Full text of "The Scientific Monthly Vol - Lii (1941)"

See other formats

THE SCIENTIFIC

MONTHLY

Edited by

J. McKeen cattell, f. r. Moulton and

Ware Cattell

VOLUME Lll
JANUARY TO JUNE

NEW YORK
THE SCIENCE PRESS
1941

THB BCIBNCB PRBB8 PRINTINU COMPANY
LANCABTRR, PRNN8TLVANIA

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

JANUARY, 1941

EXPLORATION OF MUMMY CAVES IN THE

ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

PART I. PREVIOUS KNOWLEDGE OF SUCH CAVES.

ORIGINAL EXPLORATIONS

By Dr. ALES HRDLl^KA

riTRATOK, DIVISION OF PTIVSlrAL A NTIIROPOUMIY. \\ S. NATIONAL Afl’SKUM

SMITHSONIAN

The subject of human ‘‘miimmie^s’^ has
always had a peculiar attraction. This
mainly because it’ is odd to see bodies
hundreds or even thousands of years
dead, yet still whole and showing more
or less of the oriprinal features of their
owners. But also because the subject
afipeals to mysticism, and has the halo of
dynastic Bf?ypt, where artifunal mum-
mification originated, was eventually
applied to the bodies of all the rulers, tlie
mighty and the rich, and reached the
hij?hcst developments.

The practice of mummification re-
sulted in {general from a belief in future
life. In the Old World it apparently
remained limited essentially to Bpypt,
thoufrh it reached to some extent the
Canary Islands. In later times it was
practiced in a measure, and (juite inde-
pendently probably, amonf? the Papuans
of the Torres Straits; and with outstand-
inpr personages may have been attempted,
more or less, elsewhere. It had not be-
come habitual, so far as known, in any
part of Africa outside of Egypt, in
Europe or in Asia. But it developed in
two wide apart regions in America — in
Peru with the neighboring territories,
and among the Qulf populations of

INSTITUTION

Alaska, more particularly in the Aleutian
Islands.

IIow the practice started in these two
American regions is not known. It may
have originated there from the same
(*auses as in Egypt, and in each area
independently ; it may have developed in
Peru and been somehow transmitted to
Alaska, though this seems far-fetched —
as Mould he the supposition that it
reached Peru from Alaska. It would be
hard to connect it in either region with
Egypt — yet such a (*onneetion may not
have been M’holly impossible. At this
date, unless some noAV evidence should
come from Siberia, these problems are
probably incapable of solution.

Mummification in both Egypt and in
America w^as of two kinds, the natural
and the artificial. Natural mummifica-
tion of bodies — Mdiich in all probability
suggested eventually the assisted or arti-
ficial practices — took and now takes place
in all regions and places M^here there is
a lack of moisture. The deserts, dry
caves, dry tombs, are its locations. Many
natural mummies exist in the desert sands
in Egypt, and many also were found in
dry caves or rock-shelters in America, in
parts of Peru, Mexico, the Southwest and

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THF4 BKBING SEA AND STRAIT

BlIOWINQ LOCATION OF ALEUTIAN ISLANDS,

Other rej^ions. Such American mummies
were or are mostly without wrappings,
ami are more or less damaged by insecsts,
rodents and the elements; but a few of
those found have shown remarkable pre-
servation, so much so that fairly success-
ful efforts were possible at a restoration,
through (*ertain fluids, of an approach to
the original features of the heads, hands
and feet of such mummies.^ They were,
and still are, as a rule, found in a sitting
posture, with the arms and knees drawn
up to the chest and the head bending
forward.

iSw; IT. H. Wilder, Am, Anthrop.f 6; 1-17;
also J. Oillman, Am, Jour, Phya, Anthrop,t IBs
363-69 and M. F. Ashley Montagu, Am, Jour,
Phya, Anthrop., 30: 95-101.

The artificial mummies, both in Egypt
and in America, had in common the
initial removal of the internal organs;
but the subsequent treatment of the body
differed. The Egyptians embalmed the
body by various balsams, pitch and other
materials, and then artfully bandaged
the body ; the Americans used essentially
air drying, and in some cases stuffing
with dry moss or grass, after which, with-
out pitch, balsams (so far as known) or
bandages, they dressed the body in the
best available clothes and made up the
whole— with cotton in Peru, with mats
and ^ins in the Far Northwest— into a
bundle.

In this place we will deal only with

LOCATIONS OF BUBIAL CAVES AND EOCK-SHELTBBS,

ANDBSIANOV ISLANDS, ALEUTIAN CHAIN.

UNALA8KA, IN THE EARlilEST PART OP THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

(AFTER A DESIGN BY CHORI8, 1822).

artificial mumniifieation in the Par
Northwest and more especially with that
in the Aleutian Islands.

That the practice of artificial uuimmifi-
cation of the dead once existed in these
islands was repeatedly reported by the
Aleuts to the Russians.

The first account of it is found in Mar-
tin Sauer ^8 report (Lond., 1802) of Com-
mander Billini^s’ visit (around 1790) to
the islands. Speakinj? of burials among
the Aleuts of the Unalaska District,
Sauer, who was the secretary of Billings
and interpreter, says (p. 161) ;

They pay respect to the memory of the dead ;
for they embalm the bodies of the meu with
dried moss and grass; bury them in their best
attire, in a sitting posture, in a strong box, with
their darts and implements; and decorate the
tomb wltli various coloured mats, embroidery

and paintings. With women, indeed, they use
loss ceremony. A mother will keep a dead child
thus embalmed in their hut for some months,
constantly wiping it dry ; and they bury it when
it begins to smell, or when they get reconciled to
parting with it.

In Saryfev’s account of the same ex-
pedition (Loud., 1806-7, II, 77) the same
subject is briefl^y noted thus: “The en-
trails are taken out of the corpse ; which
is stuffed with hay.”

A somewhat more circumstantial ac-
count of the practice is given, in 1840,
by Bishop Veniaminov, in his classic and
rare work on the Unalaskan Aleuts,
among whom he spent ten years of his
life* as their priest and friend. He says :
(II, 80-81) :

2 1. Voniaminov ^^Zapiski ob ostrovach Una^
laiUcinskago Otdiela. 3 vs. (in 2), 8®, Acad.
8c., 8t. Petersb 'g., 1840.

LOCATIONS OF BURIAL CAVES AND ROCK-^HELTBBS,

FOX ISLANDS, ALKUTIAN CHAIN.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

A PINE, UNTOUCHED OLD SITE OF
LITTLE KI8KA

IN THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS. THEKE ARK LITER-
ALLY HTTNOREDS OP SUCH UN'rOUCHED OLD SITES
OP HUMAN HABITATION IN THE ISLANDS WHICH
CAN BE READILY DISCERNED BY MEANS OP THEIR
RICHER AND DIFFERENT VEGETATION.

In former times, in case of every Aleut who
died, his relatives grieved over him for 40 days,
and did not bring out his body from the house
for 15 days. Several days after death they
embalmed the body, i,e,, they opened it, and ex-
tracting all the internal organs, stuffed the
trunk with dry grass and sewed it up. After
that they dressed the body in his best and most
favored garment, and 8wadd^ng it like a baby,
they placed it in a framed hkin ‘ * cradle ’ ' which
they hung in the place where the individual died
and wh«?re they kept it for another 15 days. . .

Bodies of the poorer and of the serfs they lay in
eaves. However, it appears that sometimes they
lay in the caves also the rich, as may be wit-
nessed even now according to some indications.

And further (III, 11) :

From the body of a man who died at sea, in
order that he should not decay rapidly, they
nearly always removed the internal organs and
buried them separately.

The natives told Veniaminov of two
caves with '‘mummies,’' one on the

Kapramil and one on the Tauj^inak, or
Korabl (now Shiprock), islands. Eaga-
mil, he says (1, 185-36) ;

is further remarkable for the fact that on its
western side, in a cave, there may up to now
[1835] be seen the dead bodies of some people
hanging in swings. By them arc found all their
goods: mats, parkis, otter skins, weax>ons, kind
of bags, etc. ; and they say that the bodies as well
as evcjrything that is with them are perfectly
well preserved, but that no one must touch them,
because, they say, those who touched even the
weapons became afflicted with open sores all
over the body, and after long suffering died.

And (II, 132) :

The Aleuts tell that some of the bodies to lie
found even now in caves on one of the Foiir-
Mountain-Qroup Islands, were already in the
earliest times of the Aleuts in the same condition
as they are now. They lie one by the other,
dressed in fur parki, their beard and hair brown
or reddish, the skin on the body blackish. And
it was from these bodies that the hunters en-
deavored to cut parts of the flesh and especially
some part of the hand and of the small finger,
or at least a part of the garments, (for good
luck in hunting]. But he who had such things,
even though really more fortunate in hunting,
nearly always died early and with a horrible
death — ^beginning to decay already in his best
years.

As to the Korabl Island (Shiprock),
Veniaminov says:

On the south side of this little island there is
a cave in which there are the bodies of the old-
time (unchristened) Aleuts, in sitting posture,
and which even now are free from decay.

Going to such caves was forbidden to
the young. According to the same author
(II, 122, ftn.) :

For a long time, even after the acceptance of
Christianity, the old men and women prohibited
the younger from going to forbidden places,
but now there are none of such forbidden spots,
with the exception of the eaves where are found
the bones of dead former Aleuts.

A. L. Pinart, a French archeologist,
visited some of the eastern Aleutian
Islands in 1871 and found there two
burial caves, one on XJnga and the other
on Amoknak. He made a remarkable col-
lection of carved and painted wooden

MUMMY CAVES OP THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

objects in the Unpra cave,^ but saw no
whole mummies there. In the Amoknak
cave there also were no whole bodies any-
more, but there were remains of the same.
Pinart called tlui^ cave to the attention
of Dr, Dali and in 1872 and 1873 the
latter explored it. In his article on
“Alaskan Mummies Dali refers to
these and other su(fh caves as follows;

Among tho localities which have boon visited
personally by the writer, are caves in Unga, one
of tho Bhuinagin Island, and others on the
islands of Amaknak and Atka, further west.
In all of these the remains of mummies existed:
but the effect of falling rock from above, and
great age, had in all the caves except that of
Ungii, destroyed the more perishable portions
of the remains, and in the latter place only frag>
ments remained. Many stories, however, came
to hand in relation to a cave on the Islands
of the Four-Mountains’’ west of Unalashka,
where a large number of perfectly preserved
specimens were said to exist.

Whf3n in the vicinity, in 1873, we were unable
to land and test the truth of this history, on
account of bad weather and the absouco of any
harbors.

In 1874, however, Captain E. Hennig,
of the Alaska Commercial Company :

being emjdoy<?d in roiuoving some hunters from
tho island of the Four Mountains, was enabled,
after seven unsucc<»8sful attempts, to land at
the base of tho cliff, where the fallen rocks form
a kind of cave, and was directed by the natives
to tho exact spot. Here he obtained twelve
mummies, in good condition, besides several
skulls of those which, being iaid near the en-
trance of the cave, had become Injured by the
weather. There was also a moderate number
of carvings and implements found, though some
natives, less superstitious than the rest, had
appropriated a quantity of weapons (reported
to have once boon there) for use in hunting.
The island being volcanic and, in fact, still ac-
tive, the soil is still warm, and tln^ atmosphere
of the cave was quite hot, Which accounts for
the extremely good preservation of the remains.
Host of the bodies were simply eviscerated,

* * * Catalogue des collection rapportde dc
PAmMque Busse” par Alphonse Pinart, Ex-
poshes dans lo Mus6e d’Historie Naturellc de
Paris, 1872, Paris ; also, * * La caverne d 'Aknafih
lie d’Ounga (archipel Shumagin, Alaska),
Paris (E. Leroux), 1875.

Katuraliatf 9: 436, 1875.

stuffed with grass, dried, wrapped iiv furs and ,
grass matting, and then secured in a water-
proof covering of seal-hide. Two or three had
much more pains bestowed upon them, and were
of course of much more interest.^

To this ill 1875® Dali adds:

Most of the mummies [from the Kagamil
cave] were wrapped up in skins or matting as
previously described, but a few were encased in
frames covered with sealskin or fine matting,
and still retaining the sinew grummets by which
they were suspended. These ensos were five-
sided, the two lateral ends subtriangular ; the
bac.k, bottom and sloping top, rectangular, like
u huggy top turned upside down. With them
were found some wooden dishes, a few small
ivory carvings and toys, a number of other
implements, but no weapons except a few lance
or dart heads of stone. Two or three women’s
work bags with their accumulated scraps of
embroidery, sinew, tools and raw materials were
among the collection. ... It contained thirteen
complete mummies, from infants to adults, two
of which were retained in California; and two
detached skulls. None of the material showed

FIBST STAGES OF EXCAVATIONS IN AN
OLD BITE ON AMOKNAK ISLAND

THIS BITK, WHICH IS 8TUX FAR FROM EXHAUSTED,
HAS orVlCH US MAKV RTTNDERDB OF IHTXRESTIKG
SPECIMENS, IMCliUDINO SOME BURIAI«8. IT BE-
LONGED ORIGINALLY TO THE PRE-ALEUTS.

» * * Notes on Some Aleut Mummies, ’ ’ Proo,
Calif. Acad. 8oi., 5; 899-400, 1878.

^Amcr. Naturalist, Aug., 1875; reprint in the
Indian Miscellany, Albany, 1877, 844-351.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THE AUTHOR, WITH AN OFFICER OP THE 8,8. TALAP008A

(ORDWAY, 1936).

any signs of civiUzod infiueuces, all was of in-
digonous production, cither native to the islands,
or derived from internative traffic or drift wood.
The latter comprised a few pieccis of pine resin
and bark, birch bark and fragments of rein-
deer skin from Alaska peninsula.

Rejrardinp: the mummies of the chil-
dren, Dr. Dali says:^

The case |of these] was sometimes cradle-
shaped, especially when the body was that of an
infant. On those occasions it was often of
wood, ornamented as highly as their resources
would allow, painted with rod, blue or green
native pigments, carved, adorned with pendants
of carved wood and susptmded by braided cords
of whale sinew from two wooden hoops, like the
arches used in the game of croquet. The inner-
most wrappings of infants was usually of the
fln«38t fur, and from the invariable C/Ondition of
the contained remains it is probable that the
bodies were encased without undergoing the
process previously described. The practice of
suspension was undoubtedly due to a desire to
avoid the dampness induced by contact with
the soil.

As to the finds themselves, Dali says:*

Am, Naiuraluttf 9: 436.

«Proo. Calif, Acad, Soi., 6: 399-400, 1878.

The mummies of real interest were few in
number. The most conspicuous was that of the
old chief. I am informed that this body was
enveloped in furs, dressed in the usual native
attire, and furnished with a sort of wooden
armor, formerly worn by the Aleuts. The whole
was placed in a sort of a basket, in a sitting
posture, and carefully covered with water-proof
skins, secured by lines made of sinew, either
braided or made into what saUors call square
sonnit. ’ ’ This line, together with a net made of
sinew, in which another of the bodies was se-
cured, were very finely made, and nearly as per-
fect and strong as when first placed there. The
matting, made of prepared grass, was exceed-
ingly fine, in most eases far superior in finish
and delicacy to any now made in the islands.
One of the smaller mummies, in a triangular-
shaped bundle or basket, had a pattern of a
Maltese cross worked into a stripe of another
color; this was quite fresh, and the grass still
retained its red and yellow tinge. The largest
basket has a wooden arrangement fastened with
bone buttons, forming a broad hoop, which served
it for a base. Most of the more carefully pre-
served specimens had been once suspended in
the air by handles or cords attached to their
envelopes.

The other articles found in the cave were stone
knives and other implements, and a few carv-

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

ing8, one of which was supposed by the finder
to bo an idol, but this is probably an error.
A child’s boot of native make was found in
the cave, with the fur perfectly preserved, and in
it was a little ivory image of a soa'Otter. A
number of other bone and ivory toys or trin-
kets were also found.

The only other worker in Alaska who
frave direct attention to the Aleutian
mummies and burial caves was Dr.
Joehelson. The results of his inquiries
and observations are published in his
excellent ‘‘Archeolojrical Investigations
in the Aleutian Islands^’ (4 to, Carnegie
Inst., Wash,, 1925). After a discussion
of their behaviors with the dead, Dr.
Joehelson says (p. 42) :

The Aleut achieved the art of mummifying
the bodies of their dead, which made possible
their preservation and postponed the time for
final disposal. It may i>e contended that mum-
mification could not succeed in the cold and wet
climate of the Aleutian Islands, but such is not
the case. The Aleut used no drugs for embalm-
ing, but proceeded as follows: An incision was
made in the perineum and the intestines re-
moved through the pelvis, or an incision was
made over the stomach for that i)uriiose. The
intestines were carefully cleaned, all fatty sub-
stances removed, and then stuffed with dry
scented grasses. Then the corpse was arrayed
in its best elntbing, over which a kamloika
(water-proof shirt made of the guts of sea
mammals) was drawn. Then it was arranged
in a squatting position with knees drawn up t(»
the chin. Wrapped in closely plaited grfiss-mats
and seal or sea -lion skins taken from the cover
of the dead man *g boat, the corpse was lashed
into a compact bundle with thongs of sea -weed
ropes. Then the whole package was again
wrapped in a net made of sea-lion sinews.

To which Dr. Joehelson adds (pp. 44~
49);

An old Aleut informed us that not all Aleuts
wore embalmed, this being the privilege of noted
hunters, especially whale -hunters. Corpses of
honored people and of the families of chiefs were
also mummified (p. 44). Two types of caves
were used as buritU places : one with deep grotto-
like passages with a large opening, tlie other
in the form of small hollows in the rock. Mum-
mified corpses of distinguished people were hung
up chiefiy in the bottom of the grotto-Hke caves,
while in the small caves, which evidently were
regarded as village cemeteries, all the less dis-
tinguished dead were placed (p. 45), Small

cave cemeteries of the second type, sack'shaped
hollows in the rock, were found on Atka and
Amaknax. Two such caves were discovered on
Atka, near the Atxalax village site. Evidentjly
both caves had served as burial places for the
inhabitants of the village (p. 46). In addition
to the large grotto-like caves in which the Aleut
suspended their mummified dead and the smaller
caves which served as village cemeteries, the
Aleuts used compartments in their underground
dwellings or special lodges for the disposal of
their dead. For the latter two methods the
bodies were prepared as for cave burial (p. 49).

Further on (p. 123), Dr. Joehelson
mentions a burial cave on each of the
islands of Ilak, Samalga and Ulagan, but
those he did not examine ; and he failed
in his effort to reach the (^ave on Kaga-
mil."

The practice of partial preservation or
mnmmifi(?ation of some of the dead was
not limited to the Aleutian Islands. It
extended also to the Peninsula (or parts
of it), to the Kadiak Island, to the islands
of the Prince William Sound and to
those of southeastern Alaska and British
(/olumbia. Regarding the Peninsula and
Kadiak Island, Dali,'® after earlier
sources, tells us as follows ;

The practice of preserving the bodies of the
dead was in vogue among the inhabitants of the
Aleutian Islands and the Kadiak archipelago at
the time of their discovery, and probably had
IxHm the custom among them for centuries.
The Kaniagmut Eskimo, inhabiting the penin-
sula of Aliaska, the Kadiak archipelago and the
islands south of the peninsula, added, to the
practice of mummifying the dead, the custom
of preparing the remains in some cases in
natural attitudes, dressing them in elaborately

« Regarding this cave both Dali and Joehelson
givft a native tradition of a burial there, shortly
before the Russians came, of a local chief with
his family ; and Dali believed that their mummies
were among those taken out by Captain Hennig,
which is possible, thpugh doubtful. See later
account of the cave.

10 Am. NaUirdtistt 9: 484 et seq. ; repr. in The
Indian Miscellany, Albany, 1877, 344 et seq.
( 1881 ) . Bee also his * * On The Remains of Later
Prehistoric Man Obtained from Caves in the
Catherina Archipelago, Alaska Territory, and
Especially from the Oaves of the Aleutian
Islands,” Bmithsonian Contribution to Knowl-
edge, Washington, 1878.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

SMOKING BEACH IX FBOXT OF WARM CAVE OX KAOAMIL ISLAND IN 1936

WHOM ISI^ IS A TOLCAHO AK» IS EVIDEKIXT STILl ALIVE IS ITS INTERIOR. THE SMOKE AMONG THE BOULDERS ON THE BEACH RISES FROM

BOILING HOT LITTLE STREAMS THAT ISSUE FROM THE CLIFFS.

MUMMY CAVES OP THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

ornamented clothing, Bometimes with wooden
armor, and carved muaka. They were repre-
Bonted, women as serving or nursing children;
hunters In the chase, seated in canoes and trans-
fixing wooden efAgies of the animals they were
wont to pursue ; old men beating the tambourine,
their recognized employment at all native festi
vals. During the mystic dances, formerly prac-
ticed before a stuffed image, the diuicers wore a
wooden mask which had no eye-holes, but was
HO arranged that they could only 8(*e the ground
at their feet. At a certain moment they thought
that a spirit, whom it was death or disaster to
look upon, descended into the idol. Hence the
protection of the mask. A similar idea led them
to protect the dead man, gone to the haunts of
spirits, from the sight of the supernatural vis-
itor. After their dances were over the fem-
]>orary idol was destroyed. ... In Kadiak still
another custom was in vogue. Those natives
who hunted the whale formed a peculiar caste
by themselves. Although highly respected for
their prowess and the important contributions
they made to the food of the community, they
were considered during the hunting season as
unclean. The profession descended in families
and the bodies of successful hunters were pre-
served with religious care by their successors.
These mummies were hidden away in caves only
known to the possessors. A certain luck was
supposed to attend the possession of bodies of
successful hunters. Hence one whaler, if he
could, would stoal the mummies belonging to
another, and secrete them in his own cave, in
order to obtain success in his profession.

As to Prince William Sound, informa-
tion is meager, but there is still a definite
remembraruje among the old timers of
the region of ‘‘mummy caves’’ on at
least one of the islands of this group.
Farther east, along the Alaska Gulf and
northwest coasts, carved mortuary boxes
with desiccated remains, in one case a
whole child mummy (now in the Museum
at Seattle) have been found in the for-
ests on some of the islands, but there is
no recorded tradition about the practice
of preserving the dead in tliese regions.

Obigikal Explorations

The writer's original exploration for
mummies was limited to the Aleutian
Islands, and ms based on the old Bus-
sian as well as Dali's and Jochelson’s in-
formation, supplemented with some valu-

able hints from the old natives and other
sources. The search began towards the
end of the 1936 season, and continued
through those of 1937 and 1938. Thanks
to the U. S. Coast Guard it became pos-
sible to find a series of these caves, with
results that collectively proved not only
of first importance to physical anthro-
pology, but from the cultural side
amounted to a veritable resurrection of
perishable objects that could be found
in no other manner.

The search for the caves proved both
exciting and dangerous. Jt will be best
to give the details in the form of the
original notes, for nothing else could do
the work such justice.

1936-July 28, The fine Coast Guard
boat “Chelan,” Captain L. V. Kielhorn,
is taking us off from the island of Kiska,
where we have been excavating for sev-
eral weeks. Calm to-day, but very foggy
— as most of the time here. Can not even
see the Little Kiska where we worked
part of the time in a fine old site, and
had some rare experiences. The Captain
promises to stop in the bay at Kagamil
Island wfiere we are to find and explore
the mummy cave that both Dali and
Jochelson tried in vain to reach, and that
has recently for our benefit been located
by the “Brown Bear” of the Biological
Survey, which kindly came to Kiska to
tell us about it, and brought a mummy
with a couple of bags of bones from the
cave as evidence. The information as to
the locality of the cavern is still some-
what indefinite, for the “Brown Bear”
could stay only a short time due to
weather conditions; but there is said to
bo a good landmark some distance be-
yond the cave in the nature of a steam
jet issuing from the mountain.

July 29. Up early, for we are ap-
proaching the Four-Mountain-Group.
But everything is so foggy that we can
not even see a trace of the islands, though
there are some huge volcanoes. More-
over the waters^ about the group are not

14 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

EXCAVATIONS IN THE WARM CAVE OF KAGAMIL ISLAND IN 1936

SINCE IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE, DUE TO LACK OP SPACE, TO USE ANY TOOLS, IT WAS NECESSARY TO DIO
BADGER-LIKE. POETUNATELY THE DEPOSPl'S WERE NOT HARD, BUT THE SALTY DUST AND THE HEAT

AT LOWER LEVELS WERE RATHER TRYING.

yet well charted, so that the Captain
feels unable to approach closely. With
a great disappointment we must even-
tually leave, without getting even a
glimpse of our Island. . . .

July 31- Aug, 3. Excavating on
Amoknak Island.

August 8 : 00 A.M. A message from
Captain Dempwolf to meet him this a.m.
and also Captain Kielhorn of the
* * Chelan ' ’ at U nalaska. Conference ‘ on
the ** Chelan’* at 10, barometer rising,
arrange to go once more to Kagamil at
2 p.M. Hasten back, recall companions
— all excited and eager. Have lunch, at
1 : 20 a boat for us, at 1:40 all on the
** Chelan,” at 2 off for Kagamil.
Weather and sea fairly good, though a
“swell.” Stop at Kashega, little native
village of a few straggling Aleut dwell-
ings, to discharge a sick woman.

August 5, 4 ; 00 a.m. Dense fog — ^ter-
rible. 6 : 30 a.m. Fog lifts as if by en-

chantment, and there, not far on the
horizon before us, is Kagamil. Carefully
find anchorage, in a shallow cove, have
breakfast, and at 8 : 30 off in a dory for
the “mummy cave” reported by the
“Brown Bear.”

After about an hour find the jet of
steam — ^about seven miles from the ship ;
and soon locate also the crevice of the
cave. The jet iasues from a barren cliff
a few hundred yards to the left of the
cave, and other steam cloudlets rise from
bubbling hot springs among boulders
above and in rocky beach.

Cave well above reach of storms and
spray. Its orifice a cleft in the volcanic
rocks. Approach difficult, but soon mas-
tered. Inside, cave low, a huge fallen
slab in middle— some skulls, debris of
skeletons, deposit of white salt-like sub-
stance over all. Two fairly large recesses
of the cleft filled with debris of mummies
left by foxes — shreds of matting, bones.

MUMMY CAVES OP THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

parts of skeletons — ^all on or in white
deposit. Also some old driftwood and
hand-hewn planks, evidently remains of
crude platforms on which mummies had
rested. In one of the reces,ses the white
salt (which also encrusts, somewhat
stalactite-like, much of the ceiliiifr) —
forms already a solid covering? of some
of the remains, so hard in places it can
not be broken with a i)ick.

Space within cave limited, in most of
it one can not stand up. in none of it can
use shovels; must work with hands like
badgers, but luckily much of deposit
proves not hard. But there is soon a
great deal of dust; also the recesses are
dark, and there are but a couple of small
searchlights to help along. As the salt^^

On analysis, lator found to bo actually
mainly common salt.

deposit is penetrated into, there ap-
pears mummy after mummy, in different
states of j)reservation — ^male, female and
especially children. Small children ‘in
unique baskets, woven, plaited or skin.
Some loose specimens of stone and bone ;
grass bags with objects — ^no time to see ;
a huge whale shoulder blade with two
apertures for handling; and two entire
kayaks, though frame work and shreds
of skin covering left only. My four boys
(students) as well as myself work strenu-
ously, to the limit, to secure as much as
possible, for at any moment it may get
rough or foggy outside and we be called
off. The inside is very dusty, and the
dust irritates, but do not mind. Won-
derful riches. An oflBcer and a couple of
men from boat helping effectively — ^more
can not get in. Prom time to time one or

THE WARM MUMMY CAVE ON KAGAMIL ISLAND
▲B FOVKD OK ^XBST XNTlElKa IT IK 1936, THE CAVE WAS BO ElbbED WITH BAXiTT DEBRIB AKD
MUMMIES THAf' IT WAS AT FIRST IMPOSSIBLE TO 8TAKD UP IN IT. THE REMAINS OK THE TOP HAD
BEEN DESPOILED BY STARVING FOXES, BUT THE MUMMIES LAY IK PLACES SEVERAL DEEP. THE
WHOLE CAVE WAS DRY AKD WARM, HEATED BY THE HOT LAVA SOMEWHERE UKDERKEAtH.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

another must get out a little to get a few
breaths of clean air.

Near 1 : 00 a sandwich outside the hole
— eight minutes — then work again to the
limit till 4 : 00 P.M., then must cease, to
enable men to get back to boat for sup-
per. Most fortunately w^eather has kept
fairly good and no fog closed in. Load
everything into a large dory which takes
it to the shij) — have so much the boat has
to make two trips — ^and leave finally near
5 : 00. Main things secured, but all not
yet exhausted. Yet no possibility of
staying any longer.

The cave was dry and warm. As we
dug down, particularly in the recesses,
the deposits and even the air became
steadily warmer, until, on tlie right, as
the arm reached for about two thirds of
its length, the deposits became almost too
warm to work in.

Secured in all over 50 mummies,
though most children; and about 30
additional skulls, besides numerous mis-
cellaneous bones. In addition, a great
quantity of partly damaged, partly still
good, remarkably made and decorated
matting ; and there were a mass of shreds
of fur (sea-otter), feather garments,
feathers, dried-up birds or bird wings,
shreds of various ingeniously made
cords, many pieces of worked wood from
kayaks, or armor, etc., etc.

When we reach the “Chelan” find all
excited. The sacks of mummies, etc.,
make a great pile on deck forward of
bridge, where the whole, for safety, at
the Captain’s order, is covered and
secured under canvas.

On way home I have spotted in the
crags of the shore an opening of what
may be another good cave, which my

THE COLD MUMMY CAVE ON KAGAMIL ISLAND

TKK PBOTOQUAPH SHOWS THE EXCKKDIHOLT ROUGH NATURE OF THE OW> LAVAS IN WHICH THE CAVE
WAB FOBlfED. IT ALSO GIVES SOME IDEA OF THE DIFFICULTIES OF APFROACH AND ESnCCIALLT OF

CARRYING THE COLLECTIOKS OVER THE TOP OF THE CLIFFS.

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

HEAD OF A MUMMl", WARM CAVE, KAGAMIL ISLAND

REMARKAHLY PREBEBVED HONOOLOID PHYRIOONOMY.

whole party craves to visit tomorrow.
The Captain would like to leave — ^afraid
of bad weather — but Commander Demp-
wolf, the head of the Alaska station,
persuades him to stay.

Kick day. Warm shower, supper. No
weariness. Of the offic?ers and men of
the boat every one would like to {pro with
us tomorrow.

Thursday — Aug, 6, Up before 6. Sky
fairly j?ood, but a 30-mile gale from
across the depression in the island, and
water very rough. All our party
gloomy, and not much appetite for
breakfast. At one time the wdnd is so
strong there is some fear the ship will
drag, and probably have to leave. B\it
about 9:00 things begin to moderate.
At 9 : 30 gale over, and though still con-
siderable waves we are able to leave with
the large dory and a surf boat. No pos-
sibility of landing anywhere near second
cave, so proceed to a partly sheltered
cove about half a mile away. The coast
here is nothing but huge boulders piled
one upon another, with pools and leads
of heaving water between. Landing
even from surf boat difficult and risky,
but somehow manage. Then up a very
steep slope with high grass, over rough
volcanic upland, then down another
very steep pass into a hollow filled with
rank vegetation and huge boulders

among which there are deep unseen
crevices, and finally on the bare big
boulders of the beach, from which can be
seen the opening of the new cave. Also
along the route and especially in the hol-
lows many gnats, and biting, though not
as poisonous as at IJyak.

Climb over rocks into the cave, which
is more spacious than the first, but cold,
damp and dripping from the ceiling;
also with barely light enough to see what
(confronts us. What we gradually per-
ceive is desolate, as well as rich. Skiills
and especially bones protrude every-
where from debris of skins, furs, mats
and driftwood. The cave had contained
several tiers of mummies laid on drift-
wood scaffolding, which in the course of
time has collapsed. The cave has evi-
dently not been visited by white man,
but everything has been damaged or
destroyed by foxes. For some years now
traders have placed foxes on the island^
left them there without food, and the
animals lived partly on the mummies,
and destroyed, eveU shredded, most of
the coverings and mats. They even de-
voured or damaged, more or less, such
bones as they could chew. The whole
presented a devastation.

But there was no time to spare. At
any moment there might set in another
storm, or fog, and we will be called away.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

HEAD OF A MUMMY, FttOM KAGAMIL

THERE WAS A PERFORATION IN THE LOWER OUTER
PART OF THE LETT EAR, IN WHICH THERE IS A
COLORED PEATHKR FOR DECORATION.

So once more we set to work against time,
with the help of Dr. Bingham, the ship
surgeon, together with one of the officers,
and one man from the ship. By 3:00

MOVING COLLECTIONS FBOM THE COLD
CAVE ON KAGAMIL ISLAND IN 1986

OVER DIFFICULT TERRAIN. RELAYS PROVIDED THE
ONLY POBBlBtMTY OP TBAKBPORTINQ THE MA-
TERIAL. EVEN IK THIS WAY THE HALF-MILE
TRANSFER TRIP TOOK NEAR TWO HOURS.

p.M. we had filled 24 sacks, besides which
there was one large mummy still in a
fair state of preservation, a heavy bag
with cameras, torches, etc. The foxes,
we found, had tlieir holes and lairs under
everything. There being much wood in
the cave and the air being damp and
cool, we tried to make fire, with the result
that we were almost driven out by acrid
smoke but could get no real flame.

Aside of the skulls, bones and other

SHRUNKEN JIVARO HEAD FROM
EtnJADOR

SaOWlNO THE 8AUE TTPK OP DECORATION
(PBATBER IN THE BAB). TBIB IS ONE OP THE
MANY EXAMPLES THAT RELATE REMOTP. AMERICAN
OTILTtTRBS WITH ONE ANOTHER.

remnants of mummies, there were a num-
ber of parts of war shields, several beau-
tifully carved spoons, three unique inlaid
ivory labrets, a shred of especially artful
matting, a stone lamp, a few slate knives
and whetstones, and many remnants of
decorated mats, native cords and other
articles.

Our sandwiches, and coffee, were left
in the dory — but there would have been

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

no time for them anyway. At 3 : 00 p.m.
and before it was possible entirely to
finish with the cave, word came from
the outside that the weather was failing
again and that we must hurry back to
the boat. As there was no possibility of
even the surf boat coming near to w^here
we were, it was necessary to retrace our
steps over the rough road to the cove,

A PEMALK SKULL

TAKKN FROM THE HOT MUMMY CAVE ON KAGAMIL
ISLAND. PROBABLY THAT OF A FAVORITE MEMBER
OF A FAMlI.y, PERHAPS A FAVORITE WIFE, Bl lUEO
SEPARATELY, IN MOSS, IN A WOODEN DISH.

(miLD MUMMY IN ITS CBADLE

FROM THE WARM MUMMY CAVE ON KAQAMIL
ISLAND, LITTLE MUMMIES OF THIS NATURE, AS
IS KNOWN FROM EARLY RUSSIAN RECORDS, WERE
SUSPENDED PROM RAFTERS IN THE CAVE.

but now we had also the bulky collec-
tions. There was but one thing to do
and that was to arrange to move every-
thing by relays. 1 strung the party over
the boulders at such distances that the
sacks, etc., could be handled or safely
thrown over from one to the other, the

last man to pile everything on the near-
est greater boulder; after which the
whole process was repeated. It now
started also to drizzle and the gnats were
bad. There were but five of us, the rest
having gone or been sent ahead, to bring

BURIAL OF A NEW-BORN INFANT, IN A

WOODEN DISH

THE BONKS ARE IN SOFT MOSS* THE OFFEBINaS
SEEN ARK A BIRD’S SOO AND WIN0. THE WHOLE
WAS ORIGINALLY ENVELOPED In A MATTING,
SHREDS Of WHICH ARB STILL AbEN ON THE LEFT.
FROM THE KAQAMIL WARM CAVE.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

the lunch (which never came) and to
keep in touch with the two boats which
were riding out in the cove. A consid-
erable difficulty was encountered on the
steep slope upward — there was danger
of both men and specimens sliding down,
and no space to pile up the parcels of
the end of the chain; but that, too, was
overcome. The trip from the cave to our
cove took over one and three quarters of
an hour. Meanwhile, the rocks and grass
got all wet, which made going more diffi-
cult. But the relays worked admirably
to the end. No one got real tired out.
The surf boat was manipulated into a
little inlet between a couple of huge
boulders, some of the boys from the ship
held it with oars so that the swell would
not throw it on the rocks, the parcels
were relaid bit by bit to one of the boul-
ders, from there tossed over to two men
in the boat, and when somewhat more
than half of the collections were on, the

surf boat went out to transfer everything
to the dory. It then came back, was
loaded with the remainder, took our-
selves, and by 6:00 p.m., with weather
steadily rougliening, we were once more
on board the “Chelan,^* added our har-
vest to that of the previous day, saw
everj^thing covered and safely tied on the
deck; and before w'e were through wdth
our showier the ship was on its way to
Unalaska, where we reached the next
day. Meanwhile a wire was sent to the
Alaska Commercial Company to have
ready on the dock 22 old tierces. On
arrival we found these on the dock, they
were at once taken aboard, and within
three hours everytliiug was packed and
safe. In six 'weeks it wa.s without dam-
age in Washington, and then, for over a
month, there was the rare treat of un-
packing and examining everything.
And it proved a wonderful material.

Notwithstanding these collections, the

MATS, BAGS AND BASKETS FBOM WARM MUMMY CAVE OF KAGAMIL ISLAND

THKSK OB.JKCTS WBBE FOUND BURIED WITH THE BODIES, EITHER OUTSIDE OF THEM OB WITHIN THE
MUMHT BUNDLES THEMSELVES. THE BASKET IN THE CENTER 16 OF EXCEEDINGLY PINE WORKMAN-
SHIP, AND THE OBJECTS THROUGHOUT SHOW AN ASTONISHINGLY HIGH DEORBE OF NATIVE ART.

MUMMY OAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

two eaves on Ka^^amil remained * ‘ unfin-
ished business’’; besides which there was
the possibility, backed by some liazy
rumors, of still another such cave on the
island. For this reason a second visit,
thanks to the Coast Guard, was made to
the locality in 1937, and a third in 1938.
In these visits another larjire cave was
found, but it was empty; the roujjrh
southwestern coast of the island and the
southeastern point were explored, with-
out result except the lo(*ation of a small
and not very old site in the lowland,
with a larpre barabra depression on the
flat part over the cliffs near the location
of the warm cave; and several rock-
shelters, wdth burials, were discovered in
the cliffs to the east of the warm cave
and excavated. Both the warm and the
cold eaves were finally quite exhausted,
without adding materially to our pre-
vious collections; but in the warm cave,
in the lowest parts of the ^‘salt” de-
posits, there came to lipht the remains
of a number of cremations ; and under a
lar^^e slab that lay in the middle beneath
everythinj?, there were revealed, undis-
turbed, the remains of a prroup-cremation
of several individuals, doubtless slaves.

On both the 1937 and the 1938 trips
other caves and rock-shelters, also, were
located and explored. The field notes
relating to all Uiis read as follows :

June 17, 1937, On the small Coast:
Guard ship ^‘Morris,” Lt. A. J. Carpen-
ter. Leave Unalaska in the morniny: for
Veselov (corrupted to Wisslow) island
or rock, 13 miles west from Dutch Har-
bor. Weather half fair, sea moderately
roui^h, nevertheless felt. Ship anchors
about one third of a mile off the rock.
Lunch with crew of dory, and then to
the volcanic pile. Grows forbidding as
approached, black rough sides, a huge
hideous vertical rent in midst to the sea-
ward. No beach or cove. Have to
fasten to rock itself on landward side,
where water heaves least. The islet is
found to be a mass of volcanic conglomer-

ate, a ferruginous lava warty With in-
closed cinders and rocks, verj^ rough and
steep ; but the ‘‘warts” are hard and like
welded in, so that all afford firm hold
and enable us to ‘‘goat it” over the sides.
Above half way up we find a shallow
shelter under a ledge, and in this 3 lower
jaws. Excavate to about 2 feet deep,
find other bones and a number of cul-
tural specimens. Have cleaned every-
thing. Remains Aleut,

June 18-19, Reach Chernovski Har-
bor, Unalaska Island. On a long and
broad gravel bar, between sea and har-
bor, decaying remains of a Russian-time
Aleut village, and to the left of this
an imposing older mound-site, with a
35 X 140 feet barabra depression on the
top. In distance to right, under a cliff,
a rock-sl)elter, and further seaward a
cave in another cliff, now empty but once
said to have had burials. Excavation in
the rock-shelter yields a number of old
Aleut burials. Bxj)lore coast for caves
over four miles eastward, without result;
and nothing of that nattire known of
elsewhere in the region by local sheep
herders.

Jtinc 20, Quiet, but sky murky.
Reach Nikolski, TJmnak. Krukhov, an old
native, tells about the ‘‘mummy cave”
mentioned by Veniaminov, on Shiprock.

June 21, Reach Kagamil. Sea mod-
erate, but a heaving surf. Find in our
beach a little “haveti” among the boul-
ders, just large and safe enough for the
dory. Boys eager. Work whole after-
noon in the two caves — ^just gleanings —
but among these a fine wooden laibret.
Drizzle all p.m.

June 22, 5 a,m. Lovely morning, and
nearby volcanoes, Mt. Cleveland and Mt.
Carlyle, in all pristine beauty, like huge
almost supernatural great pure-white
cones, within 10 miles of us; but begins
to cloud up before 1 can bring up my
camera.

Ashore, with all my boys and some
officers and men from ship, right after

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

VOLOANOK8 8H18IIALVIN AND TVANOT8KI ON ALASKAN PENINSULA

ON CLEAR NIGHTS, WHICH HOWEVER ARK RARE, THESE PRESENT A MAJESTIC APPEARANCE. THE
BHISUALVIN, APPROXIMATELY 8000 FEET IN HEIGHT, OCCASIONALLY SMOKES AND LIGHTENS THE
NIGHT WITH A PILLAR OF LURID LIGHT THAT RFJIOHES TOWARD THE SKY.

breakfast. Explore crapfs between the
two caves, and soon locate a rock-shelter
with some old burials. Explore also to
NW along rough coast — ^fiud caves, espe-
cially one — but nothing in them.

Iio(?k-shelter proves exceptionally rich,
full of bones and skulls, but mostly
female. Of mats and other perishables
but traces. Two bodies cremated —
doubtless sacrificed slaves. Men from
ship very helpful — none hurt, and every-
body living adventure: Good calm day,
though swell outside our ** haven.
Seals a few yards from bouldery shore
pop up from kelp to watch the visitors.
Beach smokes to-day in many places.
Lunch among the rocks. A hungry fox
comes near one of the men — ^is fed on
sardines thrown to it — ^then curls down
and goes to sleep. At times eery views
of the volcanoes through mists. . . . Late
p.M. return to Chemovski,

June 23. To-day to examine the Split-

Rock isle near Kashega, reputed to have
a “mummy cave“ or shelter.

Beach Rock near 8 : 30. Is completely
split crosswise — some earthquake. About
200 feet in maximum height, slopes of
talus, steep cliflPs. Climb on top of
smaller part — ^find two skulls there, also
a superficial skeleton, with some stone
points. A couple more skulls on the
grassy slopes. Larger portion has a
number of caves and rock-shelters ; the
caves now empty, rock-shelters worth
exploring. Excavate a deeper one on
the SE side, find burials, also four new
type stone lamps — two quadrilateral.
Dig also on toj)— two more skeletons.

Have endeavored to climb, too, the
larger part of the rock. Pound only one
possible way and that very difficult. But
the survey people had been here and left
hanging down a sash-cord with copper-
wire core. With the help of this, three
of us reached the top— only to find, when

MUMMY CAVES OP THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

AN EXCEPTIONAL VIEW OF SMOKING MOUNT CLEVELAND

SEEN LOOKlNa WEST THOM APPLEGATE COVE OPPOSITE KAGAMIL ISLANll. THERE ARE SCORES OP
THESE GREAT VOLCANOES IN THE ALEirTIAN CHAIN. PROBABLY NONE OP THEM IS QUITE EXTINCT.

THEY are rarely REVEALED, BEINO COVERED WITH MISTS.

wanting to descend, that near where
anchored the cord had so rotted that it
parts when tested. How it held while
we were scrambling up is unexplainable.
The top was very grassy, but showed
traces of natives. This isle (‘Split-
Rock’) was known to the natives as a
former refuge, and also as a place where,
on the top, there used to be some tem-
porary habitations, and burials. Based
on the native information to this effect,
the rock was visited in 1928 by the Stoll-
McCracken expedition for the American
Museum of Natural History (N. Y.),
and both parts of it were scaled, with
the results of finding, on the top of the

larger portion, aside of the depressions
of old habitations, a “driftwood sarco-
fagus containing four ‘mummies’ and
the location of a burial rock-shelter on
the south end of the smaller portion,
which gave a small collection of skeletal
as well as other materials.^*

Toward evening we tried to reach
Shiproek, a great high isolated “rock”
in the Umnak Pass, and came near — ^but
current proved too strong for our facili-
ties and so had to return. Seven days —
much good fortune — but no mum-
mies. . . .

1*^ Reported by E. M. Weyer, in an article on
**An Aleutian Burial,’’ Anthrop, Papers Jm.
Mus. NaU HisU, 31 : 217-238, 1929.

(To he continued)

THE DYNAMICS OF SNEEZINCS—STUDIES BY

HIGH-SPEED PHOTOGRAPHY’

By Dr. MARSHALL W. JENNISON

ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF BACTERIOLOGY AND SANITARY BIOLOGY,
MASSACHUSETTS INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY

Sneezing, the violent expulsion of air
from the mouth and nose, is an involun-
tary^ reflex, respiratory act. It is caused
by irritation of certain nerve-endings in
the mucous membrane of the nose, or by
stimulation of the optic nerve by a
bright light.

By the early Greeks and Romans, a
sneeze was considered a sign or omen
from the gods. This venerable belief
survives in the still wide-spread custom
of saying ‘‘God bless you,^* or its
equivalent, when a person sneezes. Sir

1 Contribution No. 174 from the Department
of Biology and Public Health.

Johfl Lubbock,® in his “Origin of Civ-
ilisation and the Primitive Condition of
Man,” states that a sneeze was evidence
that the sneezer was possessed by some
evil-disposed spirit. To-day, in the
field of public health, the activities of
this “spirit” — ^bacteria and viruses in
sneeze droplets — are recognized in the
transmission of certain respiratory dis-
eases.®

* Sir John Lubbock (Lord Avebury). ** Ori-
gin of Civiliaation and tho Primitive Condition
of Man.” Ed. 7. Longmans, London, 1012.

8 W. F. Wells, M. W. Wells and Btuart Mudd.
Am. Jour, Pub, Health, 29: 863, 1039.

PIG. 1. ABRANGEMENT OP SUBJECT AND APPABATUB FOB PHOTOOBAPHT.

DYNAMICS OF SNEEZING

FIG. 2. A VIOLENT BNEEZE, PABTIALLY STIFLED.

Recent investigations in air bacteriol-
ogy and on air-borne infection have
justifiably reopened the question of the
role of air in the transportation of
pathogenic microorganisms. Of the im-
portance of droplet infection there seems
to be little doubt, but the part played
by the air-borne droplet nuclei, which
result from the evaporation of dropleta
proper, has not been as clearly delimited.
Experimentally, little is known of cer-
tain of the characteristics of sneeze
droplets, although such factors as num-
ber, size, velocity and rate of evapora-
tion are concerned in their dissemination
and in the production of droplet nuclei.
The importance of the definition of con-
ditions which introduce bacteria into the
air and the significance of the particle
size and the resulting state of suspension
in the air have been pointed out by
Wells et al^

In a preliminary study of droplet

« W. F. Wells, ei aL, Amoriean Public Health
Association Year Book 1039-1040, pp. 90-101*

infection of air by sneezing, using high-
speed, single-flash photography for dem-
onstrating droplet production, Jennison
and Edgerton® made certain incidental
observations relative to the sneezing
process itself. ‘‘ Still' ’ pictures have
been complemented by high-speed mo-
tion pictures, and analysis of the records
reveals a number of interesting points
about the dynamics and external mani-
festations of this respiratory reflex* The
records are of general physiological in-
terest, as well as demonstrating graphi-
cally the possibilities of droplet infec-
tion.

Appaeatus and Methods

The photographic technique utilized
recent, unpublished modifications of the
light sources and control instruments
developed by Edgerton et for

5 M. W. Jennison and H. E. Edgerton, Proo.
Soo. Exp, Biol, and Med,, 43 : 455, 1040.

® H. E. Edgerton, K. J. GermeshauBen and
H. E. Grier. Jonr, Appl, Phyaioe, 8: 2, 1937.

f H* E, Edgerton, K. J, Germeshausen and

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Fia. 3. MULTTFLA 81 T METHOD FOB DETEBMINTNO DBOPJLET VELOCITY.

stroboscopic illumination and hi^h-speed
photography, which technique substi-
tutes an instantaneous flash of light for
the relatively slow opening and closing
of a camera shutter. The light illumi-
nates the object to be photographed with
an intense flash of short duration,
‘‘stopping’^ motion by providing an
exposure-time so short that the object
does not move any appreciable distance
during exposure.

The light source, which was placed at
the side of the subject/s face away from
the camera (Pig. 1), consisted of a
light-tube in a parabolic reflector; illu-
mination was produced by the discharge
of a condenser through this tube. The
light was placed in such a position that
the droplets were illuminated with a

H. E. Grier, Photo Technique, 1 (6) : 14
(October), 1989.

»H. E. Edgertoa and J. B. KiUian, Jr.
<<Pla«h! Seeing the XJnaecn by Ultra High-
speed Photography.'* Hale, Cushman and
Flint, Boston, 1939.

dark-field effect, thereby standing out
sharply even in daylight, indoors, and
giving photographic images larger than
actual droplet size, particularly when
not in sharp focus. The intensity of the
light is so great that it is unnecessary,
indoors, to consider the amount of other
light in making camera adjustments.
A white screen in front of the subject
reflected back enough light so that the
side of the subject’s face which was
towards the camera photographed
clearly.

For the single-flash ‘‘still” pictures, a
56 microfarad condenser, charged to
2,500 volts, discharged through a spiral,
argon-filled light-tube. A photographi-
cally effective duration of flash (expo-
sure-time) of about 1/30,000 of a second
was found sufficient to “stop” most
sneeze particles. For multiflash “still”
pictures (used in determining droplet
velocity), spiral light-tubes were used
with 1-microfarad condensers at 8,000

DYNAMICS OF SNEEZING

FIG. 4. A VIOLENT, IJNSTIFLED SNEEZE, NOT QUITE COMPLETED,

volts, and exposure-times of 1/100,000
of a seeond. Both types of “ stiir * photo-
graphs were taken with an ordinary
camera, with apertures of /4.5 to /ll, on
9 X 12 cm. Verichroine film. It was con-
venient, but not essential, to have an
electrical contact on the camera shutter ;
this contact set off the flash when the
shutter (set at 1/100) was wide open.

For the motion pictures, a quartz-
capillary light-tube was employed, with
a l-microfarad condenser charged to
1,200 volts. In the motion picture cam-
era (witliout shutter) the film is moved
past the lens at a constant, high speed.
Bach time the film has moved the dis-
tance occupied by one picture, the sub-
ject is illuminated by a flash of light.
The time at which the flash occurs is con-
trolled by a commutator attached to the
film-driving mechanism. The duration
of each flash is about 1/100,000 of a
second, which effectively “ stops motion
during exposure. A timing device in the

camera records the film speed directly on
the film. The sneezes were taken at
speeds up to about 1,300 frames per sec-
ond, on 35 mm panchromatic film.

Because of the lower light intensity,
and for other technical reasons, very few
small droplets showed up in the motion
pictures and in the miiltiflash ‘‘stiir^
photographs as compared with the num-
bers obtained with the single-flash tech-
nique.

Droplet velocities were obtained by
three methods: a. The order of magni-
tude was estimated from single-flash
photographs in which the exposure-time
was long enough (1/30,000 to 1/15,000
of a second), so that the fastest droplets
produced a path of measurable length on
the film during exposure^ (Figs. 2 and
7 ) . This method is relatively inaccurate,
however, because the exposure-time can
not be determined precisely. This is a
consequence of the electrical character-
istics of the light source, which, after

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

quickly reaching a maximum brightness,
tapers oflf in intensity, the point beyond
which the light is photographically in-
effective being only approximately deter-
minable; &. Velocities were determined
very precisely from measurements on the
high-speed motion pictures (Fig. 9), the
speed of which is known to within a frac-
tion of a per cent.®; c. Multiflash “stilF’
pictures also allow precise determination
of velocity/ Two lights were used, each
of which flashed once with a known time
interval l)etween the two fla.shes. This
interval was determined by photograph-
ing, in the field of the sneeze, a disc spin-
ning at known speed. A line on the disc
appeared as an angle after consecutive
flashes, and from the angle and the drop-
let displacement in the calculated time,
droplet velocity was computed (Fig. 3).

Most of the subjects used were men,
since they sneezed more readily, more
violently and had less tendency to stifle

the sneeze than women. Some of the sub-

jects had colds, others hay-fever, and
others were normal. Many of the sneezes
were initiated by rubbing a little snuff
into the nostrils. No water or other ma-
terials were held in the mouth. The sub-
jects were asked to sneeze as naturally as
possible but without consciously stifling
the expiratory effort. There did not
appear to be any marked differences be-
tween “normaF’ sneezes and those ‘‘arti-
ficially” induced, although the snuff
often produced several spasms in quick
succession.

Results

The observations arc based on some
300 “still” i)icture8 and 4 motion pic-
tures, on 16 subjects at various times.
While a sneeze consists of two stages —
a sudden inspiration, followed by a forci-
ble expiration — we have been concerned
chiefly with the expiratory phase.

All subjects always had the eyes closed
at the instant of expiration; often the

PIG. 6. A COMPLETED SNEEZE:

DYNAMICS OF SNEEZING

FIG. 6. 8NKEZE FROM SUBJECT WITH A BAD COLD.

closing occurred coincidentally with the Usually the mouth was more nearly
inspiration. This was not due to the closed at the climax than in Fig. 9. In
light, which was coming from behind the most cases the upper and lower teeth
subject Purthennore, experiments witli were closely approximated, as shown
the light shining into the subject’s eyes clearly in Pigs. 4 and 5. The extent to
showed that there was a measui'able lag which the mouth is closed, and particu-
between the light flash and the closing larly the approximation of the teeth
of the eyes. In sneezing, the eyes were largely determine the number and size of
closed at the time the light flashed, hence the droplets, that is, the efficiency of
the closing stimulus occurred before the ■ “atomization.” Most of the droplets
flash. Involuntary closing of the eyes appear to originate from the saliva in the
appears to be part of the sneezing reflex front of the mouth, more, and smaller
(Pigs. 2-8, 9). ones, being formed in the air stream

At the inspiration, in most subjects, when the orifice is restricted (C/. Pigs,
the head was involuntarily thrown back, 4 and 9). The majority of sneeze drop-
and the mouth simultaneously opened lets — ^before appreciable evaporation oe-
wide (Fig. 9). Between the inspiration curs — ^are less than 2 millimeters in
and expiration there may be an appreci- diameter, and many are less than 0.1
able time interval, during which one or millimeter, as determined from photo-
more false starts in expiration may be graphic enlargements, although in sub-
made. A typical expiratory phase con- jects having viscid mucous secretions
sisted of a qipck “down-stroke” of the from colds or hay-fever larger drops and
head, a closiiig of the mouth and the masses are common, as a result of less
forcible ejection of air and droplets, effective “atomization” (Pig. 6).

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Precise measurements of droplet speeds
in violent sneezes have given ** muzzle
velocities’^ as high as 152 feet per second
for some droplets, but speeds less than
this are more usual. While this is the
maximum rate we have recorded, we have
not tried experimentally to determine the
upper limit. For technical reasons, most
of the smaller — end possibly faster —
droplets did not photograph in the tech-
niques which allowed accurate measure-
ments of velocity.

Estimates of the pressures necessary
to obtain the droplet velocities found
have been calculated from thermody-
namic formulas for air flow tlirough ori-
flces. A velocity of 150 feet per second
would require a pressure of some 10 to 12
millimeters of mercury, not considering
inertia of the droplets or friction. This
pressure is about one fifth of the maxi-
mum steady pressure which a man can
exert by blowing into a manometer.
Since four times this pressure would be
required to double the velocity, it is

probable that even in violent sneezes^ the
fastest droplets do not have an initial
velocity much over 300 feet per second,
unless, perchance, the instantaneous
pressure in a sneeze is markedly greater
than about 60 millimeters at mercury.

The distance to which sneeze droplets
w^ni be expelled, and the distance to
evaporation, depend upon droplet size,
velocity, temperature and humidity of
the surrounding air, and the moisture
content of the particles. One would
expect mucous secretions to evaporate
less readily than saliva or water. Most
droplets, because of their small size, are
not expelled farther than two or three
feet, under ordinary conditions, as shown
both by photographs and by glass plates
and culture dishes placed in front of the
mouths (Fig. 7). Small droplets, at
high velocity, quickly evaporate to pro-
duce air-borne droplet nuclei (Fig, 8) ;
larger ones, as in Fig. 6, will be expelled
farther, then fall to the ground.

The actual mechanism of droplet for-

FIG. 7. SNEEZING ONTO A CtJLTUBE DISH TO COLLECT BACTEBIA.

DYNAMICS OF SNEEZING

mation from secretions, in sneezing, is the
sAme as that described and illustrated by
Castleman^ for the ^^atomization” of
other liquids in an air stream. A por-
tion of a mass of saliva or other secre-
tion is caught up by the air stream, and,
being anchored at one end, is drawn out
into a fine filament. This filament is
quickly cut off by the rapid growth of a
dent in its surface, and the detached
mass, being quite small, swiftly draws
itself up into a spherical drop. The
higher the air speed, the finer will be the
filaments, the shorter their lives, and the
smaller the drops formed, within limits.
Droplet formation from a filament of
saliva is illustrated in a previous paper,®
and also is shown here, although not
clearly, in Fig. 6, and in frames 70 and
71 of Fig. 9.

The photographs show that there is
great variation in numbers of droplets

vB. A. Castleman, Jr. Bnreau of Standards
Journal of Eesearekf 6: 369, 1931.

with the type and with the violence of
the expiratory effort Violent, pnstifiied
sneezes, particularly those in which the
mouth was well closed at the climari^ gave
droplet numbers in the tens of thousands
(Figs. 4 and 5). Stifling the sneeze re-
sults in fewer and in smaller droplets;
this act may also tend to produce a
greater velocity of expulsion (Fig. 2).
On a culture dish directly exposed to
sneeze droplets (Fig. 7), thousands of
bacterial colonies will develop.

In both stifled and unstifled sneezes,
the number of particles issuing from the
nose — when, indeed, any could be de-
tected from this source — ^was insignifi-
cant compared with the number expelled
from the mouth. Furthermore, in the
relatively few cases in which there were
particles that appeared to be of nasal
origin, excessive secretions of mucous
were present in the nose, and larger
masaes, not small droplets^ resulted from
the sneeze. These facts are of more than

FJO. S. DISTBIBUTION OP BBOPLETS IMMEDIATELY APTEB EXPtJLGltON,

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

FIG. SIKXUOSHIVE STAGES IN THE EXPIRATORY PHASE OF A SNEEZE.
SELKCTEl) FRAMES FROM A HIGH-SPEED MOTION PICTimE HAVING INTERVALS OP 0.0008 SECONDS
IIETWEEN CONSEfUTIVK FRAMES. NUMERALS REFER TO NUMHER OF TIME INTERVALS FROM THE
START OF THE “ DOWN -STROKE ’ * OP THE HEAD. THE SMALL DROPLET IN FRAMER 71-74 HAS A
VEliO(MTY OF 94 FEET PER SE(’ONI); THE LARGER MARS IN FRAMES 72-80, A SPEED OF 61 FRET.

iiit«NRt in nktian to infection,
beoKoae of tbe diftvonoee in the niierobio
flora the two Mgions. Otganirau of
the month haye nsoally received leae
attention than those of flie naao>phaiynz,
in connection with both droplet infection
and air>borae infection. But it is the
$maU droplett — ^thoee originating in the
mouth— which evaporate while in bus*
pension in the air, and which therefore
are of most direct importance in air-
borne infection.

The fact that in most of our photo-
graphs of droplet expulsion no material
could be detected coming from the nos-
trils, might result if particles from this
source were caught in the blast of air and
droplets from the mouth. However,
records of early and late stages of snees-
ing uBual^ eonflna the negative observa-
tions made on the intermediate stages.
While it does not necessarily follow that
no air or particles were expelled through
the nose, it appears that most of the pres-
sure was released through the mouth.
This is of physiological interest, in that
Wintcm and Bayliss*** state : “The sneese
. . . consists ... of a sudden strcmg
forced exinration, during which the glot-
tis rwailns open, but the communication
between pharynx and tiie mouth is dosed
by contraction of the anterior fauces, so
that th$ air from ih*. hmgt i$ driven
enttrdy throng the noee/* (ItalicB
mine.) This is obviously not the whole
story, except possibly when weak sneeses
are ^hXentionidly stifled, although we
have Observed that sometimes the in-
voluntary ckising of the mouth in a weak
sneeSe inay rcsoli in most at the pressure
heii^ralhMHlidfbin Bxperi-

mSntafly it Is difliotdt, in violent sneeses,
to prepent moht ot ^ pressure from be-

. ft I*, Ik Wim«s sad X 4 B. BiyUw. *'Eaiuui
Wpjtfufttf,** Bit;: g. P. BUdstoa's Sea sad

Cwsqmi^, Prt1addj^t»>

ing rdeased through the mouth, iven if
one tries. Our obserVatkmS as ito the end
result are as stated by Best and Taylor
“During the first part of the expiratox!|jr
effort the way into the mouth is blocked
by the elevation of the tongue against flie
soft palate, the blast of air thus being
directed through the nose. Later, the
reaiaianee offered by the tongne is re-
moved, the air then eeeapinp through the
mouth.** (Italics mine.)

The time involved in a sneese is of
interest, but not exactly determinable
unless the beginning and end are taken
rather arbitrarily. In Fig. 9, a sequence
from the shortest expiratory phase ob-
tained is recorded, taking as the begin-
ning the start of the “down-stroke" of
the head, and as the end the lowest point
in this movement and the disappearance
of the droplets from the photographic
field. Partly for reasons of technique,
and partly because of the type of sneese,
very few droplets show in this figure.
These motion pictures were taken at
1,260 frames per second, and the expira-
tory effort as shown took 0.07 seconds.
In motion pictures of three other sub-
jects, the exipratory phase lasted longer
— ^between 0.1 and 0.2 seconds.

Thus it is evidmit that the mechanics
of sneesing are intimately bound up with
the production, dissemination and evra
the potential infectivity of the resfdtiim
droplets. Until now it has been the im-
pression that the pious aqpiratton uttered
when a person sneeses was for the benefit
of the snewer, but obviously the ejaenl^
tion should bei intended also for the pl^
teotion of &e potratial victims.

nothing to be siMesed at I

' u 0. H. Ben saA K. B. Tejlor. «<Tbe LIv
lag Body.'* Besiy Hett saA Onmeay, Hew
Yoxk,USS.

THE HEART THAT FAILS

By Dr. CARL J. WIOOBRS

PBOrESBOH OP PHTSIOIiOOT Ain> DIBEOTOB OF DKPABTUSNT, WiaTUN BSSIRVX

UmVKBSlTT IfKDIOAL SCHOOL

Evert annooncement of a sudden
fatality attributed to the heart creates
the desire for a more intelligent compre-
hension of the mechanisms and reasons
for such calamities. Commonly used
expressions, such as “heart attack,”
“heart failure,” “cardiac shock,” “coro-
nary attack, ” etc., are merely euphonious
phrases; they do not satisfy as an ex-
planation for inquiring minds. We read
of the sudden extinction of life Under a
variety of conditions and circumstances :
a distinguished citizen, apparently well,
or certainly not significantly indisposed,
is suddenly taken off at the dinner table
or on the golf course; another quietly
departs this life while asleep. Occasion-
ally, despite the elaborate precautions
which now attend administration of
anesthetics, a patient’s life is lost after a
few whiffs of chloroform. Other noxious
vapors, such as benzol and many toxic
drugs and chemicals, act likewise.
Furthermore, the extensive use of various
electrical appliances in our homes, trades
and professions has created a new hazard
of quick cardiac death through accidental
electrocution. The cardiac mechanisms
by which life is extinguished are essen-
tially alike in all these cases.

Consciousness and life are highly de-
pendent on a continuous supply of
oxygenated blood to the brain. Other
organs of the body withstand complete
absence of blood flow for considerable
periods ; but in the case of the brain it is
only a matter of minutes or seconds be-
fore serious effects are produced. As
every one is aware, blood is circulated by
the pumping action of the muscular
chambers of the heart, called the ven-
tricles. If their pumping action ceases
even for 8 to 5 second, temporary

unco&scionsness may occur. Failure to
contract for 15 to 20 seconds can lead to
twitchings or convulsions, while complete
stoppage lasting 2 to 5 minutes is rarely
followed by spontaneous recovery.

However, the types of fatal cardiac ac-
cidents which we are considering are not
caused by standstill of the heart; on the
contrary, the contractile efforts are sig-
nificantly increased. What actually hap-
pens is that the rhythmic coordinated
beats are suddenly converted into an
incoordinate type of action, called ven-
tricular fibrillation (fi-bril-lA-tion). It
is of primary importance to form a men-
tal picture as to what such a transforma-
tion involves.

Normally, the force for expulsion of
blood from the heart is created by the
simultaneous contraction of millions of
microscopic muscle fibers which form the
walls of the ventricles or myocardium.
During ventricular fibrillation the muscle
fibers still contract but in totally dis-
organized fashion, sometimes referred to
as delirium of the heart. Fibrillary con-
tractions are somewhat similar to shiver-
ing or convulsive contractions of skeletal
muscles. Any one who has experienced
or witnessed a severe chill or convulsion
appreciates that vigorous and violent
contractions can be functionally quite as
useless as though the muscles remained
at rest. In short, in cardiac or skdetal
muscle, effective action demands not
merely that muscles contract but also
that ^ey do so in a sequential and co-
ordinated manner.

Fibrillation may also be compared to
the action of an automobile engine ip
which the gas . mixture in each of its
eight cylinders is exploded very fre-
qumtly but entirdy at random. Such

THE HEART THAT FAELS

an engine, like the flbrillating ventricles
with their millions of tiny muscle
cylinders, all firing out of phase, would
consume more fuel but produce no useful
work. In the case of the ventricles, this
means that blood is not expelled, that
pressures promptly fall to zero in arter-
ies, and that death follows in 6 to 8
minutes, owing to anemia of the brain.

While the real cause of sudden cardiac
death has continued to bafiSe physicians
until comparatively recent times, ven-
tricular fibrillation has been known to
physiologists since its recognition by
Ludwig in 1850. This lag in application
of knowledge has been due to the fact
that ventricular fibrillation is a physio-
logical disorder, incapable of recogni-
tion, postmortem. It was only through
the development of electrocardiography
with the shuttling of problems and dis-
coveries between the experimental lab-
oratory and the bedside that clinical
diagnoses have become possible.

During the 90 years which have
elapsed since Ludwig’s description of
fibrillation, physiologists have directed
their talents toward the solution of many
problems. Some of the more important
ones are (1) the interpretation of the
nature of the fibrillating process; (2) the
establishment of the conditions which
are responsible for its initiation, (3) the
devdopment of methods for defibrillat-
ing the ventricles and restoring normal
beats before the brain has been irretriev-
ably damaged, and (4) attempts to ren-
der the ventricles less susceptible or re-
fractory to fibrillating agents.

Natube VsNnactnjAB FibbuAiATIok

Coordiiiated, effective action of the
ventricles is normally achieved, through
an ignition eystem, somewhat as in an
automobile engine. Seventy-two times
per minute — more or less — combustible
material in tite millions of tiny muscle
flinders is exploded by a brief elec-
trical impulse. This imp’dse is generated
in a small knot of tissue in the right

auricle, known as the svnus node. It m
distributed to the ventricles over a
special system of muscular wires and in
such a manner that it fires all the musde
fractions approximately at the same time.
The simultaneous explosion of combusti-
ble material results in the vigorous con-
traction of the ventricles as a whole. It

is amply established that, during fibril-
lation, the electrical impulses no longer
travel over this organized route, but
spread at random and in a disorganized
fashion throughout the myocardium. In
so doing, they still cause contractions of
the muscle fractious; but entirely in a
haphazard manner.

Opinions are divided as to how this
disorganization is brought about. Ac-
cording to one school of observers, a
large number of new ignition centers
are created throughout the myocardium,
each of which emits a rapid succession
of electrical impulses which spread
wherever they can. In other words, the
heart is no longer dominated by a single
distributor of electric impulses, but by a
great number scattered through the
heart. In consequence, a conflict of ex-
citation and an asynchronous contraction
of the mmcle fibers result. According
to another school of observers, a condi-
tion is suddenly created which permits
electrical impulses to escape from an
original path, with the result that un-
restrained impulses wind and weave way
through the myocardium, return more
or less to their starting point, traverse the
path again, thus establishing perpetual
circuits of electrical impulses called
“circus rings.” In their travd thay
excite and explode the muscle cylinders
which have recovered from a previous
contraction. In effect, the original im-
pulses keep on circulating and maintain
the fibrillating condition as long as com-
bustible material and oxygen remain
availabe. Which of these eoneeptiona is
more probably correctf I can answmr
the query best by reference to some of my
personal obee^atiems. As a member of

THE SCIENTIFIG MONTHLY

a eooumttee (m electric shock, organised
in 1928 under the leadership of Professor
Howdl^ one of my projects involved a
more detailed study of the fibrillating
process by electrocardiographic and cine-
matographic recordings. These studies
demonstrated that, in the mammalian
heart, fibrillation is not a constant phe-
nomenon but involves an evoluting series
of changes from the moment that it be-
gins until it ceases in 80 to 45 minutes.
If the movements of the ventricles are
carefully watched for the first two or
three minutes or, better still, are photo-
graphed and studied through slowed
motion pictures, it is seen that the con-
tractions gradu^y change from xmdula-
tory waves to tumultuous convulrive mo-
tions and then to fine rapid trembling
movements. Analysis shows that, with
this transformation of movement the
ventrictdar surface is progressively di-
vided into smaller and smaller areas,
which contract faster and faster, each
with its own tempo. This is confirmed
by tapping electrical impulses at differ-
ent spots by means of small wicks and
recording the electrical potentials so de-
rived by a delicate string galvanometor.
In recent studies of this sort, I was able
to show that the electrical excitations in
three or four different spots bear no re-
lation to one another, and that their fre-
quencies are different. For example, it
was found in one experiment that four
areas which normally were excited sim-
ultaneously 90 times^per minute were
now excited respectively 840, 676,' 600
and 480 times per minute during the
tremulous stage. No unitary center or
single loop of electrical impulses OQuld
produce such results.

Obviously any conception or theory
as to the nature of fibrillation must in-
clude an explanation of these rapidly
evoluting changes in the fibrillating
process. We must either believe that
more and more centers for excitation
arise throughout the myocardium during
the first two or three minutes— whUdi is

ualikdy— or we must adspt the iheoijr
of **eircu8 exdtatioa** orighaally ad-
vanced by Professor Qarrey of Vander-
bilt University to the facts. My own ob-
servations incline me toward the beli^
that at the start, several impulse-fronts
sweep over large portions of the ventri-
cles, possibly over muscle bundles. These
impulses return more or less to their
starting point, approximatdy retrace
their paths, but each time the pathway
is somewhat more restricted. Aftmr
traveling over such circuits four or five
times some impulses are extinguished
through collision or are otherwise
blocked. Separated from the original
circuits they form shorter ones, which,
in turn, are blocked at the margins.
This process continues until the few
original long circuits are subdivided into
innumerable shorter circuits of shuttling
impulses which repeatedly weave thrir
way through «nall musde masses. The
shorter the circuit, the more frequent the
tempo becomes. Such a oone^tion
wotdd account for the changing modes
of contraction, the formation of smaller
and smaller areas, the gmeral speeding
up of contractions and the dfffering rates
of excitation in different areas. Regard-
less of the ultimate correctness of this
conception, it may be stated that its
formulation as a working hypothesiB was
responsible fpr the trial of a new method
for deflbrillating the ventriries, to be
discussed later.

After intervals of about 2 to 4 min-
utes, still another faetmr enters into tiie
evolution of the fibrillation process.
The eontraotiims become unmistakably
weaker and the wiavdets travel more
slowly. This 'Qie beidnninff of

the atonic phase. Gradually <me frea
after another ceases to contxiMst, and in
30 to 46 minutes lihe whtfie heart has
come to rest Whereas the evoltitiag
changes which precede this atonic phase
are attributaUe to ehanges in the iklUv*
ery of eleetrioal impulses, thoM whieh
oeeur during this stage are dus dkk%

TOT HBABT THAT FAILS

to Uok of ixcygen. Th« individual miudo
oylinden ttill have the foal and they
receive the aparh, but they fail to eon*
tract vigoroualy owing to the deficiency
of oxygen so necessary for combustion.
This anoxia, as it is called, develops be-
cause, with the very onset of fibrillation,
no blood is pumped into the aorta and
no blood flows through the coronary
arteries which supply the myocardium.
As the small reserve store of oxygen at-
tached to the red coloring matter of
heart muscle is eventually exhausted, all
contractions cease.

TbB InTTUTION of FlBBILtiATIOM

An acceptable theory of ventricular
fibrillation must explain not only the
nature of the process after it has become
establiriied but the mechanisms which
allow it to start. Heretofore we have
had only vague suggestions as to why
some electrical currents cause fibrillation
and others do not. A year ago no one
had even attempted to offer a logical
explanation as to why it starts spontane-
ously after coronary occlusion or injec-
tion of certain drugs. There is no
doubt, however, that an understanding
of the process involved or even a knowl-
edge of the coefficients necessary for its
induction would go far toward lifting
experimental studies from an empirical
to a scientific plane. Frankly, we are
not yet in a position to offer a satisfac-
tory conception of the ultimate mecha-
nisms coneemed in starting ventricular
fibrillation. But recent discoveries de-
fining the eonditions for its precipita-
tion do direct the analysis into narrower
ehannris.

We have stated that fibrillation may
follow aoronary occlusion, use of various
drugs and chemicals— i}f which chloro^
fom is merely an example~and from
|>ia«Hige ril ri^trio currents through the
i^Nurt. It msiy fiiow be added that it oc-
inm from mechanical in*

to tiM heart; indeed, it is probable

of the chest.

heavy blows of pugilism or opiry of a
bullet are not without danger ha canting
sudden death from fibrillation. Per-
sonal interest in the subject of Jfitrflla-
tion was originally aroused by the desire
to conserve laboratory ftwiniftlg in expmu-
mental work, both as a humane measure
and a matter of expense. In 1919 a
series of investigations was b^pin to de-
termine how the action of the heart is
modified by valvular lesions and other
pathological conditions. In these ex-
periments it was necessary to pierce the
ventricles of anesthetised dogs with an
instrument for recording internal car-
diac pressures. Such experiments dem-
onstrated that ordinarily the heart has
a remarkable retistance to injury and
to severe manipulation. Occasionally,
however, the piercing of the heart or an
apparently trifling insult led to fibrilla-
tion. It occurred in hearts of young
and old dogs alike; in hearts that were
well or poorly nourished. Various mea-
sures were tried to avoid such accidents
or to restore normal heart beats; but
none proved useful. The question na-
turally arose as to what determines
whether an insult to the heart proves
innocuous or leads to fibrillation. We
certainly can not be content with its
assignment to luck or chance.

In 1923, entirely unrelated experi-
ments yielded a clue as to the reason for
such accidental fibrillations. Th^ were
designed to test the reactioiui of the
dog’s ventricles to brief single induction
shocks. It was supposedly well known
to physiologists that such tiioeks cause
premature beats when they are s]^ied
while the ventrides are relaxing, but are
without effect while they are contract-
ing. To my surprise, and contra^ to
orthodox teaehing in physiology, it was
discovered that a tiiook adminhttered
druring the last moments of eonti»oti<Ka
also caused a delayed premature beat
In such tests it wge a J^t disapprint-
ment when suah a stock oecaticmi^
caused fibriBation and terntinated tiia

THE SCTBNTIFIO MONTHLY

experiment Similar results have since
been reported by physiologists at Colum-
bia University. In view of the funda-
mental importance of such observations,
we studied this problem more carefully.
During the past year we have demon-
strated unequivocally the following
facts:

1. A momentarj condenser, induction or gal-
yanic shock, or a single sine wave of a 60 ejele
alternating current fibrillates the ventricles, pro-
vided it is strong enough and coincides wit^ the
last .05 to .06 second of contraction which we
have called the vulnerable period of the ven-
tricles. Applied at any other moment of the
cardiac cycle an electrical shock is innocuous, no
matter how strong.

2. Local application of such shocks suffices;
passage of current through a large part of the
myocardium is not necessary.

3. The capacity to fibrillate is inherent in
heart muscle; it requires no sensitising or ad-
juvant action of nerves or hormones to induce it,
although admittedly these may affect the
threshold.

4. More prolonged direct or alternating cur-
rents can fibrillate either because an effective
portion of such a current coincides with the
vulnerable period of a beat or because they evoke
centers which spontaneously release impulses, one
of which falls during the vulnerable phase of a
beat.

5. Under certain circumstances, such xiatural
stimuli may be strong enough to induce fibrilla-
tion.

Into what channels of thought have
these discoveries led us in explaining
the onset of fibrillation f The demon-
stration that a stimulus must fall dur-
ing the vulnerable period in order to
start fibrillation indicates clearly that
some fractions of the 'myocardium have
become excitable again before the end of
systole, that is, before the moment when
ejection of blood from the ventricles
ceases. Such a theory was developed
by the writer in 1927. It is obvious, as
Dr. King of Columbia University has
properly emphasized, that such an asyn-
chronous cessation of contraction in the
muscle cylinders is basic to any concept
as to the initiation of fibrillation. But
it does not go far enough; something is
involved in addition, for, if the stimulus

is not strong enough, only one prematoze
beat is induced, presumably through ex-
citation of the same excitable fractions.
What this “something” is remains spec-
ulative; but we now fed reasonably cer-
tain that it must be in the nature of some
modification which permits a premature
excitation wave to reenter. We are try-
ing to obtain further information as to
whether this may be due to local blocking
actions of the stronger shocks, to initial
excitation of a larger number of frac-
tions and formation of broader wave
fronts or to the contingency that the
interventricular septum or opposite ven-
tride are excited over natural or ab-
normal pathways. The question re-
mains, what are the coefficients which
determine induction of an apparently
spontaneous fibrillation after use of cer-
tain chemicals or drugs and during
coronary oedusionf We have not
studied the former, but our most recent
experimental observations suggest an ex-
planation as to how it is produced after
occlusion of a coronary vessd.

We may reiterate that, in order to in-
duce fibrillation, we must have an effec-
tive stimulus which may be of brief dura-
tion but which must coindde with the
vulnerable moment of systole. In the
case of fibrillation which occurs spon-
taneously during coronary oedusion, the
stimuli must originate in the heart
Now, it is well known that interruption
of blood supply to an area causes the de-
vdopment of centers emitting occasional
dectrical impulses that are very much
like brief induction shocks. This is
proved by the frequent occurrence of
premature systoles after coronary oedn-
sion both in experimental animals and
in man. According to our conc^tion,
fibrillation would result if one such spon-
taneoudy devdoped stimulus fdl during
the vulnerable period of a normal beat
or that of a premature beat induced by
discharge from another center. In ad-
dition to its proper incidence, the spon-
taneous stimulus must also be strong

THE HEAET THAT PAILS

enough. This is probably not the case
when the myocardium is normal. How-
ever, we have found very recently that
lack of blood supply greatly increases
the irritability of myocardium, so that a
very weak artificial shock suffices to
cause fibrillation. We therefore believe
that a natural electrical impulse dis-
charged at the proper moment is suffi-
cient in strength to fibrillate both ventri-
cles when the tissue is hyper-irritable as
a result of myocardial anemia.

Revival op Fibbillatino Ventbicles

A considerable mortality from ven-
tricular fibrillation due to coronary oc-
clusion and to accidental electrocution
resulting from defects in electrical appli-
ances or their improper use, has stimu-
lated scientists to seek practical means
for defibrillating the ventricles and re-
storing normal beats. However, the
present state of achievement owes quite
as much to fundamental discoveries
made during the course of other investi-
gation as it does to experiments designed
particularly for this purpose.

Older investigators had clearly demon-
strated that the ventricles of all animals
are not equally susceptible to fibrillat-
ing agents. Fibrillation is difficult to
induce in cold-blooded hearts but easily
produced in those of mammals. The
ventricles of many smaller mammals,
such as mice, rats, cats, rabbits, hedge-
hogs and monkeys frequently recover
spontaneously ; whereas the ventricles of
guinea pigs, dogs, sheep, goats and man
do so ruwly, if at all. Hence, the fatal
nature of the process in animals which
do not recover spontaneously was form-
erly stressed. The conception that such
ventricles can not be defibrillated was
soon shown to be erroneous, for it was
proved that it could be stopped in ex-
cised heuis through cooling or cutting
the muscle into. smaller pieces. Admit-
tedly, a wide hiatus ekists between such
id>Qliti(m of fibrillation in excised hearts
and the revival of hearts in the body.

NevertheleBS, these fundamental denum-
strations served their purpose in recreat-
ing the hope that methods for resuscita-
tion of such hearts might be discovei»d.

The experiment of Hering, a German
physiologist, consisting in the abrogation
of fibrillation in the perfused heart by
addition of potassium chloride and the
restoration of vigorous normal beats
through subsequent irrigation with
Locke’s solution has frequently been re-
peated in physiological laboratories. It
was therefore natural for investigators
to employ this agent to cheek fibrillation
of hearts within the body. Since the
natural circulation is discontinued, the
problem arose of devising means for
transferring a potassium solution to
every unit of fibrillating muscle and for
removing or neutralizing it with calcium
chloride after fibrillation had ceased.
D’Halluin, a Belgian physiologist, re-
ported success in 1901 from injecting
potassium chloride solution into a jugu-
lar vein and spreading it through the '
myocardium *by massage. In 1929,
Hooker of Johns Hopkins University
succeeded in reviving fibrillating ven-
tricles by forcing a weak solution of po-
tassium chloride into a carotid artery
under pressure, while 1 stopped fibrilla-
tion by injecting stronger solutions di-
rectly into the ventricular cavities. Sub-
sequent application of a calcium chloride
solution by the same methods sometimes
revived spontaneous beats.

While such occasional revivals consti-
tuted a technical achievement of which
we were once justly proud, they were
certainly inadequate. Looking bade,
they served their chief and broader pur-
pose, not in their practicability, but in
defining more dearly the requirements
for successful revival. These seem to be
(1) that every vestige of fibrillatiqn dis-
appears, (2) that adequate centers sur-
vive for the generation of spontaneous
impulses, (3) that not too many and pro-
ferably only one center exists and (4)
that die musde fractions excited from

center are capable of responding
frith vigorons oontraotions. As we re-
view our experiments in which potaa*
sitms and calcium were successively em-
ployed, we are not surprised that failures
frequently occurred ; it is rather remark-
able that success was experienced so
often. Potassium ions unquestionably
abolish fibrillation, but they depress con-
tractions and pacemakers as well. Sub-
sequent use of calcium ions enhances
contractions but it awakens so many
centers of excitation that the ventricles
easily revert to fibrillation. This is also
a drawback to the use of adrenalin — a
powerful cardiac stimulant so often used
by surgeons to encourage revival of the
heart.

A significant advance in resuscitation
of the fibrillating ventricles occurred
with the demonstration by Hooker and
his associates in 1933 that a strong alter-
nating shock, not more than 5 seconds in
duration, abolishes fibrillation and re-
stores normal beats. These investiga-
tors were not pioneers in the use of the
method of conntersbock, but, as is often
true in science, the greater credit briongs
to those who place a discovery on a sub-
stantial foundation and give it cnnbney
in scientific thought. These investiga-
tors also showed that fibrillation of the
heart in the closed chest can likewise be
abolished by sending a strong counter-
shock current through the heart by elec-
trodes applied to the idlest. Williams
and his associates at Columbia subw-
quently demonstrated the eflectiveuMS
of extremely strong shocks in rams,
which are more nearly comparable in
weight to man.

^ Unfortunately, the method has its
limitations, which were clearly recog-
nised by its discoverers. Revival rarriy
occurs when the ventricles have flbril-
lated more than two minutes. We dis-
covered that when fibrillation follows
coronary delusion it is not effective even
within this short time-span. In order
to be practical even for experhnental
purposes, it was necessary to extend the

possible period nrivat Thk we fsd|
constituted Our oontributioit to tke i^reb-
lem. The change in terimique wlrich
made this possible was di^t, but the
physiriogical basia which it invdves is a
broad one and was suggested Iqr eutirely
unrelated experiments.

In^the first place, we had observed that
f ailnra to revive the ventricles after two
or more mihutes of fibriUatfon was gen-
erally not due to diflSeulty in abolishing
fibrillation but rather to the weak riiar-
acter of the coordinated contractions re-
sumed. These feeble beats either ejected
no blood or only insignificant quantities,
arterial pressnres failed to rise and the
heart quickly became more bypodynamie
or reverted to fibrillation.

Secondly, the discovery was made dur-
ing our study of coronary oedurion that
the area affected by ligation of a coron-
ary branch rapidly lost its power of ef-
fective contraction. Thus, the idea be-
gan to dawn that the *‘two-minute time
limit” for revival after fibrillation is due
to a similar interruption of the coronary
flow. Vigorous contractions can not
occur in the absouce of a supply of oxy-
genated blood. Consequently, when the
ventricles are ddIbriUated by a counter-
shock, the contractions are necessarily
very feeble. It also became clear as to
why the method seemed so ineffective in
abolishing the spontaneous fibrillation
developing aftw coronary oeduaion^ in
such cases large seetimis of the nqroesr-
dium have been deprived of their Uood
supply even before fibrillation has begun.

The indications were obvious; the my-
ocardium must be suiqpUed with Oxy-
genated blood whUe /fbHttafion eoftrinves
and before a eountenko^ cuff ent w ep-
plied. This we did by manual e<miprea>
sion of the vmtriicles, about 4D times per
minut^ so that Ihdr cavities eve em^
tied each time. This proeesst eall^
cardiac massage, oauMs a material da*
vation of arta^ pressure and fosoes
blood thiwuirii itlm cqimtaiy m
plyimr thA mwftiawtem. Ollriilff
yew irifidi has passed, we have

THU HIABT THAT FAILS

digbt bat material duuige. 'While
the ventrides are beixig rhsrthmieally
oompreased, tiie aorta is partly eon*
strioted iritii the fingers, so that a larger
prf^rtion of the blood squeesed from
the ventricular cavities is forced through
its walls by way of the coroxuuy arteries
which ariiM central to the digital con-
striction.

Daring the course of experimental
work in which the heart is exposed, my
associates and I have witnessed over
1,000 revivals in all kinds of fibrillation
in dogs weighing up to 18 kilograms.
Indeed, the procedure is now standard
in the laboratory, and its routine use has
contributed significantly to. the success-
ful completion of complicated experi-
ments on the coronary circulation.

Occasionally, however, the method
fails because one or several shocks are
unable to defibrillate the ventricle com-
pletely. A small area may persist in
fibrillation, and we are indined to be-
lieve that the interventricular septum
continues to fibrillate even when it is
not apparent from surface observations
of the heart. Apparmitly, in order to
defibrillate the ventrides completdy a
shock must pass through every fraction
of fibrillating. tissue in sufficient strength.
If the hearts are large or the dectrodes
are not properly placed, an effective cur-
rent may fail to pass through certain
parts. The deep internal interventri-
cular septum is particularly imotected.
Various expedients have bwn tried to
overeome this emergency. We have in-
creased the sise of dectrodes and intensi-
fied the oountershock current used with-
out great suecaas. Moreover, very strong
eurrants often spread to the aurides and
start idu&t Mtrillation, an undesirable
feature when the ventrides do revive.

the ventricular cavities, previous to '|he
use of massage and countenlm^ was'
apparently hdpful in abolishing suoh
residual areas of fibrillation. .Unfor-
tunately, this drug depresses mhaeular
contractions and unless cautioudy used
prevents the Yesumption of vigorous
beats. For this reason, we have ques-
tioned its value as an adjuvant to
oountershock.

In investigations during the past year,
supported by the John and Mary B.
Markle Foundation, the need arose for a
method which would revive fibrillating
hearts promptly, certainly and repeat-
edly, and which did not involve the use
of drugs or chemicals. With the develop-
ment of our view outlined above that the
fibrillation process evolutes by causing
remitrant exdtations in more and smaller
areas, the thought arose that the evdut-
ing process might conceivably be reversed
by a rapidly repeated series of A.C.
shocks. In this way, larger and fewer
fibrillating areas might again be formed.
Eventually the longer circuits created
might be completely interrupted and the
fibrillation stopped without the necessity
of having the countershock current
traverse the entire myocardium. If tins
were true, weaker currents might be em-
ployed, deflbrillation would be more cer-
tainly accomplished, and auricular fibril-
lation more generally avoided.

Extensive tests proved that this con
be done by applying a succession of 8 to
7 brief A.C. shocks of about 1 ampere
in strength, at intervals of about 1 aee-
eond. Each shock appears to convert the
fibrillation into a coarser type vti&til a
final shock results in complete arrfst of
the ventricles. We have caBed the pro-
cedure serial defibrUlation. The advan-
tages are: (1) an effective enrrent does

Bddr thd MAuts, who have adopted our
modifisatiou of tim oountershock method
in the hiiboiratsiiy of experimental sur-
pantienlariy impressed with

dogs. They found that
doses of procaine Into

not need to traverse each fflmllating foao-
tion ; it acts by rneq^ng excitation rings,
(2) the vaitrieular s^tum, difficult to
reach in larger hearts, is d^hgillateA
(8) weaker currents uhieh are not so
apt to start. aurieular Ubrillathm and
have no aftnr-^Esets on the ventririea oan

THE SOIENTIFIO MONTHLY

be used, and (4) the certainty of recov*
ery is increased. So far, the method has
proved remarkably successful. During
six months trial, tabulations of 328 tests
showed only a single failure. Indeed,
we now regard death from fibrillation in
dogs whose hearts are exposed as evidence
of negligence or bad technique.

The practicability of the countershock
method in cases of human ventricular
fibrillation due to electric shock or coro-
nary occlusion naturally deserves care-
ful consideration. It appears to us that,
while we seem to be on the threshold of
success, formidable barriers are blocking
that threshold. These must be frankly
recognized, for it is as important to em-
phasize the limitations of new discoveries
as it is to herald their success. Only a
few of the difSculties which confront us
can be discussed in the space available.
The practical utilization of the counter-
shock method is thwarted by the difficulty
of utilizing currents which are adequate
to defibrillate the human heart. It is
exceedingly doubtful whether 110 volts
A.C. house current generally available,
can yield sufficient current to defibrillate
larger human hearts even when electrodes
are applied directly. In rams, somewhat
comparable in size, Spencer, Ferris, King
and Williams found it necessary to use
3,000 volte giving currents of 25-30 A.
in order to achieve defibrillation through
electrodes applied to the chest. The
danger to patient and operator alike —
not to mention their general availability
— ^is apparent. Our observations that
weaker serial shocks seem to be effica-
cious, reawakens the hope that this pro-
cedure may require less current for
revival of human fibrillating hearts. Un-
fortunately, the difficulty does not end
here. Any method of countershock em-
ployed by itself must not be expected to
be effective beyond two minutes of fibril-
lation and perhaps less. To rush a
patient to a hospital, institute artificial
respiration, open the chest aseptically
and massage the heart within 15 minutM
requires a degree of optimism

physiologists find it difficult to share with
surgeons. This, however, is oertainly
the maximum interval after which re-
vival of brain function can be expected;
indeed, it is highly probable that mental
deterioration would occur within a much
shorter period of complete cerebral
anemia..

For the present, the hope for revival
is apparently restricted to patients who
develop fibrillation on the operating
table, and particularly those in whom
the heart has already been exposed.
Prompt utilization of massage and serial
countershock should prove effective in
such eases. To meet such contingencies,
cardiac surgeons generally will probably
soon follow the lei^ of Dr. Beck of our
surgical department in adding appropri-
ate countershock apparatus as standard
equipment in their operating rooms.

We see little prospect that revival
methods so far developed will have great
prospect of success in restoring hearts
that fibrillate as a result of coronary
thrombosis. Experimentation has shown
clearly that such hearts can not be re-
vived unless the ocdunon is first removed
and the ischemic area flooded with
arterial blood by massage ; two conditions
difficult to realize in man. While the
revival of human hearts from fibrillation
must not be r^arded as hopeless, we must
not allow ourselves or others to become
too optimistic. Indeed, it seems more
profitable for the present to direct re-
search talents toward the task of attempt-
ing to render the heart less sensitive to
fibrillating agents or even better of mak-
ing it completely refractory.

SmremzxTioN and DBSBNBmzATiON or

THE YeNTBIOI^ TO FiBBlUiAnON

The literature contains a number of
experimental reports which support the
general belief that the tendeincy of the
ventricle to fibrillate can be increased
or decreased by nervous or humoral
agents as well as by certain drugs. The
results of our studies indicate* however*
that this has not been demonstrated as

nnTnr! Tnr.A‘P»T» nnTTAnn TnATT.fii
XXlXli XlXliiAXy X XXj>J9lX JB AXJLjO

critioalljr as investigaton generally be-
lieve. Space ia lacking to do more than
enumerate the types of studies upon
which such conclusions are baaed. They
are:

1. Oompariaon of time elapaing between eoro-
naiy oeelnaion and the incidence of fibrillation,
— a Tory variable period according to our experi-
ence.

2. Determination of differencea in atrengtha
or dnrationa of a current required to induce fibril-
lation; a very erratic method, becauae any cur-
rent which laata more than .06 aecond createa a
number of factora which may induce fibrillation
fortuitoudy.

S. Compariaona of the dnrationa of fibrillation
in the eat ; a very variable interval according to
our experience and that of othera.

That such tests are inadequate is in-
dicated also by the contrary effects im-
puted to the same agents or processes by
different investigators. Thus, activity of
the accelerator nerves or adrenalin is
claimed both to increase and to decrease
the resistance of the ventricles to various
fibrillating agents.

We have only recently suggested a new
criterion based on our proof that fibril-
lation is due to application or release of
an effective stimulus during the vulner-
able phase of the systole. It consists
in measuring the resistance of the ven-
tricles to fibrillation — or tersely, the
fibrillation threshold — by the strength
of a brief shock which, applied during
the vulnerable period, just suffices to
fibrillate. We believe that it takes into
account the irritability of responsive
muscle fibers and the eventual ad^tional
state which determines that the prema-
ture impulses reenter and begin to cir-
culate.

Maiqr technical and experimental de-
tails need to be overcome, however, be-
fore such a simple test cQidd be put into
practice. The moat suitable, and easily
measurable, electric shock had to be de-
cided upon. Special apparatus had to
be designed 'in order to apply such
ihocks with certainty to an occasional
vulnerable period. After considerable

experimentation we chose tiie milliam-
pere value of rectilinear shocks .Q1 to
.03 second in duration, which, whei ap-
plied during the vulnerable period, in-
duced fibrillation, as a measure of the'
fibrillation threshold. By applying our
method of defibrillation, repeated tests
could be made on the same animal before
and after treatment.

Since the determination of each thresh-
old required 30 minutes, and the effects
of a drug could not be determined in lees
than 5 or 6 hours, it was necessary to
determine how constant the threshold
remained after successive defibrillations
over such a long period. It was in fact
at one time feared that the alterations in
pressure and chemistry of the blood, or
the effects, of countershock currents on
the fibrillation process itself might pre-
vent use of this mode of testing. Indeed,
most of our time was spent in discover-
ing the factors which yield inconstant
threshold values and in inventing ways
in which to avoid or circumvent them.
Among the factors we have learned to
control are the temperature of the ven-
tricular surface, the careful placement
of electrodes on the same spot, the avoid-
ance of polarization and other effects of
repeated currents, etc. In addition, it
proved necessary to revive the ventricles
quickly from each fibrillation and to al-
low an equilibration period not less than
15 minutes after each recovery before
making another test.

With attention to these and other num-
erous details, we have evolved a proce-
dure by which reasonably constant fibril-
lation thresholds can be obtained over
a period of five or six hours in untreatajd
dogs. Bmplo 3 ring this method, we suc-
ceeded in showiug that the fibrillation
threshold is tremendously reduced dur-
ing coronary occlusion, and that procaine
tends to raise the threshold. The pro-
cedure is now perfected so that the ac-
tions of many drugs and physiological
influences can be tested in a systonatic
manner.

THS PKESS IN AMERICAN CITQSS’

By PtotHMT B. h. THORHDIXB

orarmjm or mncAnoNAL bxsxabob, mAORiBS ooumo, atxumsu. ranvBunmr

What ia an American newspaper t
How do the newspapers in cities that
rank high in welfare differ from those in
cities that are, relatively, low in welfare!

'To answer ^ese questions, a eonnt was
made of the amount of space (excluding
advertisements) given to each of the top-
ics listed below in one or more issues of
one or more newspapers for the six werii
days, September 13 to 18, 1937, in
Augnista (Ga.), Berkeley, Birmingham,
Charleston (S. C.)> Chester, Colorado
Springs, Columbus Said St. Louis,
Evanston, Glendale, Grand Rapids, High
Point, Ealamazoo, Lewiston (Me.), Man-
chester, Meridian, Minneapolis, Mobile,
Oakland, Pasadena, Rome (N. Y.), San
Diego, San Job6, Santa BarWa, Seattle,
Springfield (Mass.), Tucson and Woon-
socket. In all, 135 issues of newspapers
were inventoried. The topics were : (1)
foreign news : war ; (2) foreign news : not
war; (8) education: general U. S.; (4)
education : local ; (5) art : general U. S. ;
(6) art: local; (7) music: general U. S.;
(8) music: local; (9) crime: general
IJ. S.; (10) crime: local; (11) local so-
ciety, dubs, etc.; (12) local personal
items; (18) athletics and sports; (14)
radio programs; (15) acienee; (16) in-
tdligence tests ; (17) bridge; (18) cross-
word puzzles; (19) question-answer;
(20) stories; (21) story pictures; (22)
comic strips; (28) cartoons; (24)
weather; (25) stodu and bonds; (26)
commodities.

We compute for each city the per-
centage which the space accorded to each
of these topics is of the space accorded
to them all. There is a considerable
variation among the 28 cities in almost

1 The iaveetigstion Tepoited in thle srtide was
one small part of a piojeet supported by a grant
from the Oamegie Corporation.

every^one of these percentages. To re-
duce ue influence of special local evmta,
we take only the 24 dties for'whidi reo-
orda of three or more days of the week,
induding at least one day from each half
of the week, are available. The spread
in percentage required to indude two
thirds of these 24 cities are as follows:

Foreign, war: 7.8 down to 8J, a ratio of 8A to 1.
Foreign, not war: 4.8 down to Z.0, a ratio of 8J.
to 1.

Edneation, art and muaie, general: 8.0 down to
.4, a ratio of 8 to 1.

Edneation, art and musie, local: 2JtS down to 411,
a ratio of 4.6 to 1.

Crimes outside Uie neighborhood: 8.4 to .78, a
ratio of 8.2 to 1.

Local erimea : 1.0 to .68, a ratio of 8.9 to L
Loeal aasoeintions, dubs, aoeie^ and peraonal
items: 14.8 to 7.6, a ratio of 8.1 to 1.

Athletie sports and games: 88.6 to 88418, a ratio
of 141 to 1.

Badlo programs: 8.08 to .78, a ratio of 6.0 to 1.
Seienee: .70 to .108, a ratio of 6.7 to 1.
Intelligenoe teats: .10 to 0.

Oontraet bridge lessons, proUems, ete.: a ratio
of L18 to 0.

Cross-word pussies: .868 to J8, a ratio of 8 to L
Qnsstiona and answars: 8.80 to .87, a ratio of 6.7
tol.

Stories: 7.3 to 8.7, a ratio of almost 8 to L
Story pktures: 8.88 to 8418, a ratio of 841 to 1.
Condo strips: 16.7 to 8.18, a ratio of 8 to 1.
Cartoon: 6.1 to 8.8, a ratio of 8.8 to L
The weather: L68 to .48, a ratio of 8.4 to 1.
Stocks and bonds: 11.4 to 1.7, a ratio of 6.7 to 1.
Commodity msorkets: 4.6 to .75, a ratio of 6A
tol.

What do the difldwnoei in the oda-
tmtz of the newipapen of eitiee lignify t
In particular, how are they related to tiie
quality of the populatitm and ite life! I
have determined fw each eiigr a eeoti^ O,
for the general gpodncM of ^ for good
people, which ia a weighted ihwrage of
the tiiirty-eeven iteua Ihded below.
Fourteen of the idiiM Wuw eiioMn fh^^^

inveel^tion heeaiiaeihw rgaied

THB: FBffiSS IN AMEBIOAN CITIES 4S

oiMtr tfas lap of the 810 eitiee in the
United States having 30,000 or more
population in 1980. Fourteen were
dbioaen because they ranked at or near
the bottom in this G score.

CIONsmutKTB or tbb G Soou ob Inozx
lUm$ of Health

Infant deatb^rate reversed; General death*rate
reversed; Typhoid death-rate reversed; Ap-
pendieitis death-rate reversed; Puerperal dis-
eases death-rate reversed.

Heme of Sdueation

Per capita public eapenditures for schools; Per
capita public expenditures for teachers’ sala-
ries; Per capita public expenditures for text-
books and suppUes; Per capita public expendi-
tures for libraries and museums; Percentage
of persons sixteen to seventeen attending
schools; Percentage of persons eighteen to
twenty attending schools; Average salary,
high-school teacher; Average salary, elemen-
tary school teacher.

Items of Seereation

Per capita public expenditures for recreation;
Per capita acreage of public parks.

Soonomie and **8ooiaV* Items

Bari^ of extreme poverty; Barity of less ex-
treme poverty ; Infrequency of gi^ul employ-
ment for boys Infrequency of gainful

employment for girls 10-14; Average wage of
workers in factories; Frequency of home
ownership (per capita number of homes
owned) ; Per capita support of the Y. M. 0. A. ;
Bxoess of physiMansi nurses and teachers over
male domesUc smrvants.

Creature Comforts

Per capita domestic installations of electricity;
Per capita domeetle Installations of gas; Per
caplin number of automobiles; Per capita
dpmcetie Initattatioas of tdiephoncs; Per
capita domestic instaUationa of radios.

Other Items

Tha cities at or near the top srim:
Berkeley, CJolorado Bprings, EYaBSton,
Qlendale, Grand Bapids, Kalamasoo,
Minneapolis, Oakland, Pasadena, San.
Diego, San Jose, Santa Barbara, Seattle
and Springfield (Mass.). The cities at
or near the bottom were : Augusta, Bir-
mingham, Charleston (S. G.), Chester,
Olumbus (Qa.), Bast St. Louis, High
Point, Lewiston, Manchester, Meridian,
Mobile, Borne, ^cson and Woonsocket.

I have also for each city a score, P, for
the personal qualities of its population,
which is a weighted average of the eleven
items listed below. The fourteen cities
high in G were on the average very high
in P also; and the fourteen low in G were
on the average very low in P.

Per capita number of graduatce from public high
high ichoohi in 1934; Percentage which pubUe
expenditures for the maintenance of libraries
was of the total public expenditures; Per-
centage of illiteracy (reversed); Pereentage
of illiteracy among those aged 15-24 (re-
versed); Per capita eireulation of public li-
braries; Per capita number of homes owned;
Per capita number of physicians, nurses and
teachers minus male domestic servants; Per
capita number of telephones; Number of male
dentists divided by number of male lawyers;
Per capita number of deaths from syphilis
(reversed) ; Per capita number of deaths from
homicide (reversed).

I make the comparison by two meth-
ods. By the first method each city is
given equal weight with every other; by
the second, any one day’s issue of any
newspaper is given equal weight with any
other. Tbe figures are always for per-
centages of space given to the topic in
question. Bach percentage has as its base
the total space given to all the topies*^
our list.

Per seat of literacy in the total population;
Per oi^ta cfamlation of Sstter Homes and
(kirdeso, end the Holtioned

capita drculation
of tto W^eeti X>e^ rate from

Site from automobile acoi-
espitn value of aeyiums,
, muioniiii and paike oened

Of value of ichoe^ etc.^
. 1^ eiiq>lta pdblic prop*

Table I relates how the press of the
cities ranking high in G and P (theaeorea
for general welfare and for qualities of
intelligenoe, morality, eto^) divided the
space which it aeebr^ to the 28 items;
and similaidy for the press of the
ranking low in G and; Pb
T he greatest dilhmnee was in the ease
of intelUgehoa which the ptm

in inp^or cities ;^ve ov«r three times

THE PBESS IN AMERICAN CITIES

have diown greater differenoes than our
counts showed. The newspapers of the
superior cities may be more truthful, in^
tellectual, moral, humane, refined and
impartial than the others to a degree not
shown by the counts of subject-matter.
Such a qualitative analysis requires much
time from very able critics and was im-
possible within my resources. But such
casual inspection as I could make leads
me to expect that these differences also
are rather small. There certainly were
many editorials in the press of the low
cities which were excellent in every way.
It must also be kept in mind that much
of the contents of the press in all these
cities is bought from agencies and used
as bought.

The variations among cities in the con-
tents and style of the press are very
great, but they seem to be caused largely
by local customs and the ideas of owners
and editors, rather than by fundamental
differences in the ideals of the residents.
The press of a city is in fact not an accu-
rate indicator of its general degree of
civilisation, welfare, humaneness or intel-
ligence. There is a correlation, but it is
not close. One glance at the infant death
rate, the percentage of 16- and 17-year-
olds in school, the per capita circulation
of public-libraries, and the number of
telephones per thousand population will
give a truer picture of the quality of life
in a community than a perusal of ten
thousand columns of its newspapers. A
newspaper is not a mirror refiecting the
nature of the community where it is pub-
lished. Nothing short of a solid body of
facts can do that. On the contrary, the
newspaper in any of these twenty-eight
cities could probably change its content
to be more like the average newspaper
without losing much circulation or caus-
ing much criticism or even having the
<fiianges noticed, if it xhade them slowly
enough. In^ied, a sordid commercialism
<^d find moderate support for its kind
0^ aewmwper in our *'best’* cities; a
oeppetent idealism could find support
for Its tdnd newspaper in our ** worst*'

cities. The profiteer and the enthusiast
would probably fill their papers vdth
much the same content — namely, that
which the buyers of newspapers eq;>eot
to find in newspapers. In judging a com-
munity, its newspaper should be consid-
ered, but only as one among scores of
features of its life.

It is common to speak of the new»-
papers of to-day as purely commercial
enterprises managed with an eye single
to profits, which are to be got from adver-
tising, which is to be got by circulation,
which is to be got by entertainment for
the masses, which is to be got by avoid-
ing all intellectual difSculties and ap-
pealing to common passions and preju-
dices. The facts of the counts suggest
that for most of the press of the United
States, this is a slander. It would be
truer to say that the newspaper of to-
day, with considerable disregard of the
cravings of the populace, provides a con-
ventional mixture of facts about what has
happened during the past twenty-four
hours at home and abroad, descriptions
of athletic contests, statistics about
prices, fiction and humor in words and
pictures, and notes about women’s styles,
housekeeping, politics, personal health
and happiness, and occasionally about
the impersonid world of truth and
beauty. The departures from this con-
ventional mixture either upward toward
what the ablest and best would choose in
their noblest moments or downward
toward what the dull and vulgar seek as
ehtertainmmit, are few and slight.

Apparently those who buy newspapers
still in large measure buy them not as a
means of entertainment in competition
with the movies, the radio, gambling, eat-
ing, drinking, sex-indulgence, etc., but
mainly for the conventional features of
a newspaper of the past half century.
Those who make newspapers apparently
still in large measure consider ^eir craft
to be that of getting and presenting
news, and not an apprenticeship for
pictorial maghaines, H(dlywood or tele-
vision.

SYNTHETIC RUBBER

By Dr. B. S. GARVBY, JR.

THZ B. r. OOODUOB OOKPAMT, AKBON, OHIO

Introduction

No material has ever been synthesized
which is identical with natural rubber in
the same sense that synthetic indigo is
identical with natural indigo. The early
experiments were attempts to make such
a duplicate of natural rubber, and for
nearly fifty years this synthesis has been
one of the aims of organic chemists.
What we call synthetic rubbers are
materials which resemble rubber in
physical properties but which differ by
varying degrees in chemical composition.
The development of these materials has
been infiuenced by the supply and price
of crude rubber, by political conditions
and by increasing knowledge of rubber
and other high molecular materials.

World production and United States
prices of crude rubber since 1880 are
shown in the following two charts taken
from ** Rubber Statistics,” published by
the U. S. Department of Commerce in
1938.

“Popularity of the bicycle and the
demand for rubber tires brought about
the high prices in the 1890 ’s; and, simi-
larly, the automobile and the Brazilian
scheme for the valorization of rubber
were directly responsible for the high
prices of 1905 to 1910.” These high

U. S. CRUDE RUBBER MARKET PRICES

prices caused a ruthless exploitation of
all sources of wild robber, especially in
Africa and Brazil, and led to an increas-
ing use of reclaim, although it is inferior
to crude robber. A few years after
Tilden first polymerized isoprene, in
1891, the boom in rubber prices changed
the primary objective of research from
one of scientific duplication to one of
commercial production of a technical
equivalent. At the same time the infant
plantation industry of the Far East was
greatly stimulated. By 1917 there was
an adequate supply of cheap, high-grade
plantation rubber. For several years
after this there was little interest in
synthetic rubber.

The World War demonstrated the
military importance of rubber, and in
recent years an assured supply of rub-
ber, natural or synthetic, has become a
matter of vital concern to all govem-

CSTIMATED WORLD RUBBER PRODUCTION

KT OrMTS

SYNTHETIC BTJBBBB

ments. For countries 'vrhioh are subject
to blockade, like Germany and Bussia,
this has meant intensive, subsidized work
on a synthetic replacement for natural
rubber.

The accumulation of knowledge con-
cerning poljoners and polymerization has
resulted in the production of two types
of rubber-like materials which can com-
pete with rubber in a free market be-
cause, in addition to the desired physical
characteristics of the natural pr^uct,
they have advantages which justify a
higher cost.

The synthetic rubbers, Neoprene and
Perbunan (Buna N), are diene polymers
which yield compositions more resistant
to oil and to aging under severe condi-
tions than does natural rubber. Mate-
rials like Thiokol, Koroseal and Vistanex
are flexible and elastic, although in chem-
ical composition they are fundamentally
different from natural rubber.

Thk Dotuoation of Natubal
Rubber

As far back as 1826 Faraday showed
that the chemical composition of rubber
can be expressed by the formula GsHs.
In 1860 Williams obtained isoprene,
CH,

CH, = i-CH sCHa, by the destructive
distillation of rubber, and in 1891 Tilden
showed that it would polymerize on
standing to a rubber-like product. Later
investigators have demonstrated that the
rubber hydrocarbon is a polymer^ con-
taining at least eight and probably sev-
eral hundred CaHa groups arranged
end-to-end in the general structure
CHa

(-CHr-ieCH-CHa-)!.

^ A polymer li a large molecule made by the
combination of many email onee. If we con-
sider a diah of ordinary paper olipe ae molecules
of is(^rene, we can sti^g them all together as
a chain whieh would correspond to a rubber
amlecule, Forming the chain is roughly analo-
gous to polymerisation and the chain to a
polymer.

For a number of years investigators
of many nations sought methods of mak-
ing isoprene and methods of polymeriz-
ing it to rubber. The most satisfactoiy
preparations were by the destructive
distillation of rubber and the thermal
cracking of terpenes. Isoprene so pre-
pared would polymerize on long stand-
ing at room temperature. The poly-
merization could be hastened by heating,
exposure to light or by the use of cata-
lysts such as the peroxides or metallic
sodium. The products of such poly-
merizations were not of industrial sig-
nificance because of the cost of isoprene.
Furthermore, they differed chemically
from natural rubber, did not process
well, gave vulcanizates of poor physical
quality,® and were not technically
equivalent to it. Their behavior on
aging was bad both before and after
vulcanization.

When one considers the complexity of
the problem it is not surprising that the
aim of the first era was not reached at
that time, nor has it yet been realized.
In the first place, natural rubber, in
addition to the rubber hydrocarbon,
contains 5 to 10 per cent, of non-rubber
constituents. Among these we now know
are substances with profound effect on
the aging and vulcanizing characteristics
of the rubber. The hydrocarbon itself
appears to be a high polymer of the

CHs

composition (-CH 2 -C =s CHCH 2 -)x in
which the methyl groups are symmetri-
cally placed along the chains and in
which the geometrical configuration at
each double bond is the same (it is geo-
metrically homogeneous). With regard
to double bonds, isoprene

* Crude rubber is tough^ thermoplaatie, aad
hardens at about 0^ 0. '^en masticated on a
rubber mUl it becomes soft, plastic, tacky or
sticky, soluble and easy to prooess. Vulcanised
rubber is non-thermoplastic^ very tough and
strong, non-tacky aad insoluble. It is elastid
from -50® C. to woU above 100® C.

THE

0 MOKTOIT

OH,

CH, = i-CH*CH,

1 as 4

can polymerize in four ways: 1-4, 1-2,
8-4, and 1-2 and 3-4. Alcmg the chain
it may polymerize head to head or
head to tail

CH, CH,

(-CHr-C = CHCH,CH,C = CHCHr-)

1 ,8 411,4

CH, CH,

(-CHii = CHCH,CH,CH = icH,-).

1 28448 21

If both 1-2 and 84 polymerizations take
place, the chain may become branched or
cross links may be formed between
chains. Even if the polymerization be
all 14 and head to tail, the individual
doable bonds may have either a cis- or a
trans configuration. The polymerization
must be farther controll^ so that the
molecular weight falls in the right range.
Finally suitable chemicals must be added
to act as preservatives and vulcanizing
aids.

The PbODUOTION of a BEPIiACBllBHT

FOR Natural Bobber

The second phase of the work was con-
cerned largely with the investigaticm of
1-8 dienes, which might be prepared
economically and which would polymer-
ize to give useful products. A measure
of success along this line made necessary
the use of accelerators and age resistors,
a development . which subsequently be-
came of prime importance in the use of
natural rubber.

The two dienes with best commercial
prospects were found to be butadiene
1-3 and 2-8 dimethyl butadiene 1-8.
The former could be obtained by the de-
hydration of 1-8 butylene glycol, and in
small yields by the cracking of hydro-
carbon oils. In no case, however, was
low production cost realized. Dimethyl
butadiene was made by the dehydration
of pinacd which, in tom, was node from

I I

acetone. Probesses and yitfds were
fairly satisfiuitoty, but the was big
The synthetic rubbers made by the
polymerization of these dienes were of
poor quality and were more nearly eom-
parable to reclaims than to emde natural
rubber. As a result they had no large-
- scale development prior to tiie World
War. Under pressmre from the British
blockade the Germans were forced to
extraordinary efforts and put into pro-
duction the synthesis of dimethyl buta-
diene and its pdymerization. Several
hundred tons of methyl rubber were
made. In addition to the poor qualities
it shares with the butadiene p<dymers,
this rubber has the added disadvantage
of becoming hard and of taking a high
set in ordinary cold weathw. Hence it
was often necessary to jack up the wheels
when trucks were left standing outdoors
in cold weather.

After the war the large supply of
cheap, high-grade, plantati<m rubber dis-
couraged the development of the qrn-
thetic material, especially because of the
poor quality of the latter. Thme was
very little development in this field over
the next decade.

Smne time in the later nineteen twen-
ties, the synthetic rubber problem was
reopened, this time by two of the woridls
largest chemical companies, the I.G. in
Germany and du Pont in America. The
German work has resulted in the Buna
rubbers and the American work in
Neoprmie.

In Germany the first step was a review
of the various butadienes to sdeci the
most satisfactMy one from tiie stand-
point of quality the priymer, availa-
bility of raw materiala and eoonmny of
manufactnre. Butadiene wps aderied.
^ starting materiai n ooal, which k
heated with limestone to make ciledum
carbide. With water thk ffiwM aoety-
lene, and this in turn adds a moikidiik ol ;
water to give aOetiddehydA : 1!^ pldet
hyde is condensed to al^ ThiMe iluNiie'

rftaeti^ are <M and had been wdl da*
Tdopad. The aldol ia then aatalytioall^
hjf^ogenated to l-S butylene glycol and
this is oatalytically dehydrated to buta*
diene. While there are a number of
steps in this reaction, the orer-all yield
is good and the raw materials are aTail*
able in Qermany. In a modification of
this procedure ethyl alcohol, from any
source, is dehydrogenated to acetalde-
hyde. The aldehyde is converted to
aldol, which is hydrogenated with the
hydrogen removal from the alcohol. In
the United States the most economical
source of butadiene is petroleum or
natlftal gas, from which it can be made
by cracking or dehydrogenation proc-
esses.

The first products of the I.G. were
made by polymerising liquid butadiene
with s(^um (Na). Hence the name
Buna. Like the pre-war products, these
were of poor quality. In an effort to
improve the quality of the rubber, the
po^ntnerisation of butadiene was per-
formed in aqueous emulsion. It was
soon found that the addition to the buta-
diene of other polymerisable materials
modified the polymerisation and greatly
imp^^ed the quality of the product.
As a result of this work there are at
present two principal tyi>es of Buna.
Buna S is a mixed polymer of butadiene
and styrene, while Buna N, or Perbunan,
is a mixed polymer of butadiene and
Serylie nitrile. Both are made by con-
^trbUed polymerisation in emulsion.

Buna S is cmisidered primarily as a
sdbstitute for natural rubber in tires,
belts, etc. It is more diiBoult to process
than natural rubber, but with suitable
pxseautions ean be handled on essen-
the same madtinety. It has little
the quality of natural rubbdr
mbkes two pieoes eoalesM when
. This makes building

opefa^bns^^^i^^ The vdlean i s at es,
ate it a quaBty oomparaUe
: xtiiiuird'. rt^her. . For tire -treads

Buna S is as good as, or better than,
natural mbbor. For pure gimi com-
pounds, such as rubber l^ds, it is.much
worse. The difference is due to ^ great
reinforcing aeti<m of carbon Ua^ on
Buns. Buna S is cheaper tiian Buns N
because slyreae is cheaper than acrylo-
nitrile. Hence Buna S was sdected for
lai^-scale production in Qermany.

The DevbxiOpkent of IraoKrmMmrts
03 sr Natosaii Bubbbb

With Buna N and Neoprmie we come
to the third phase of synthetic rubber
development. Buna N, like Buna S, can
with certain limitations be used as a sub-
stitute for natural rubber. In additioa
it has certain great advantages. It is
but little affected by petroleum hydro-
carbons and is much more resistant
to heat than natural robber. Cmise-
quently, it can be used satisfactorily
under hot and oily conditions where
rubber fails quickly. It has even better
abrasion resistance than natural robber.
Like Buna S, it is difficult to process and
lacks adequate building tack. However,
it ean be handled satisfactorily in fac-
tory operations.

The du Pont development started from
the work of Nieuwland at Notre Dame
on acetylene and led to the produetion of
substituted butadienes. Two moleeulea
of acelylene polymerise to form vinyl
acelylene, which adds (me moleeule of
hydrogen chloride to form ehfan’(q>r6nB,

CH.s(M3H»CH„ a dmlefine in i|hicih
a chlorine replaces, the methyl groi^ hi
isoprene. While other substituted Inrta-
dienes hqve been made and pidymerind,
ohloroprene is the only one which has
affiiieved oommereial aigniflcaane.

Under pr(d>etly oontrriled eonditioiM
liquid ehlureprene polymerises to a rub-
bery polymer, aimilmr to natural rubber
and of use as a replaeeiBent tot It in
most oases. ^Idke Hiaaa N, it has impaiw

ad^tagw orer nstaral rabbflr^ of tetadfetta at ialMrillfated
It isvreustant to the ««tion of peti^oleaiB lAiohol, :koi<ooeal muS yiiten«K ww
hydrooaihonis and vegetable and animal tie prodnets derived from oilier b«dki
^1. It is not sensitive to sunlight <nr mdieenles.

; donm discharge, and it vill not eon*
rinne to bum when ignited. Henee Neo*
pzene can be used in many places where
aptural rubber can not Unlike natural
rubber or the Bunas, Neoprene is not
vuleaniaed by sulfur, and hence a new
teehniipie of compounding had to be de-

TkiokcL When ethylene diehlmide is
refluxed with an aqueous solntiim of so-
dium pdysnlflde a linear pdymmr is
. forced v^ch is rubbery and which has
the constitution

(-CH«CHr-S,^r<!H.S^)y.

veloped. Although special preoautions
am also necessary, it can be used in regu-
lar factory (^rations.

More recently the process for polymer-
ising chlorcqirene in emnlsifled fonu
has been worked out This permits
smoother and more efficient produotion
with resulting lower prices.

In place of ethylene dichloride, propy-
lene diddoride, diehloroelhyl ethmr or
other didilorides mi^ be used. These
materials were developed in America as
Thiokol and in Germany as PerdUren.
They undergo a tsnpe of volcanisatiou,
but the effect is not as pronounced as
with rubber. Thiokol has a character-

Busbuu Dbvbuipuxutb

Because of political and economic iso-
lation, Russia was the flist of the great
nations to attempt autarchy; and be-
cause rubber is one of the few essential
raw materials not available in Russia, a
great deal of work was done on synthetic
rubber, as well as on the cultivation of
rubber-bearing shrubs similar to Gua-
yule. It is known that in Russia buta-
diene is produced both from alcohol and
from petroleum. Apparently this is
cimverted principally to the sodium
polymer. It seems probable tiut rub-
bers of the Buna type are also being
made. It has also been reported that
chloroprene is being pdymerised to. a
material similar to Neoprene. Outside
of Russia, however, little is definitely
known about these Russian products.

Other BijAstio Matbruih •

There are several materials of funda-
mentally different chemical constitution
which are sufficiently like rubber in
physical prop^ies to justify their in-
clusion in a discuBsiim of synthetic rub- ,
to. All the previously discussed mate-
rials have been polymers or co-polymers

istic odor. With respect to tmisile
strength, toughness and cold flow it is
not as good as the materials previously
discussed, but it probably has betto gen-
eral solvent resistance. It was the flrst
material of this group to be developed
commercially.

Koroseal. l%e gamma polymw of
vinyl chloride is extremely tough and is
unique in the strength and toug^ess of
the gels formed frmn it with various
liquids. As Koroseal in tto country
and Igelite in Germany, these gete have
become of great commerekl importaime.
The po^vinyl chloride itsidf is resistant
to nearly all chemicris and to most sol-
vmts. It does iK>t bum or support emu-
bustimi, and is praotioally unaffected by
aging. By ddlfnl compoimiding of plaa-
ticiaers, pigmmts, etc., flaxffile and elas-
tic gds can be obtained whii% retain, in
large measure, these resistant dimmcter*
istlos. Emroseal nbed not be yUliMnised.
It can be tubed, ofdendered and pcfidiri
thermophwtically. In addition to the
rubbery whhdt to uii^ for, vd»i

taidc liniatait sMcdii

tubing and nudded pii^ Knraseel can
be made as a told

traiiiiiMMPtet i&igr ia

torf HSTHy

« «iiteriaQof, greuepnat citd «ge-r»-
ditaiit (kwtiijtg all km4a of fabrica.

Viaimex. Vistanaac ia polymeriaed
iaobutylene of the piH>bable atrnetore

r ^

. <!«.

It combines to a considerable extent
the physical properties of rubber the
chemical properties of parafBbn. Like
rubber it is a hydrocarbon, but unlike
rubber it has no double bonds and there-
fore does not vulcanize. On a mill it
does not become as plastic as rubber and
it is therefore more dilDScult to process.
Oold flow limits its use as a rubber sub-
stitute and it is used principally as a
coating material. The lower polymers
are extensively used in lubricating oils
to reduce the fall in viscosity with rising
temperature.

Rbcebkt Developments

^ During the year which has elapsed
since the outbreak of the war in Burope
thex^ have been several announcements
whi^ show that extensive research pro-
granUi have been under way for several
ycazs on the development of new syn-
thetic rubbers. All the products re-
centiy announced use petroleum as the
basic raw material and all appear to be
some type of butadiene eOpolyiner. Defl-
xiite compositions have not been an-

The Standard Oil Company
of l9ew Jersey has acquired the Amer-
patent rights relating to the manu-
f acl^ of the Buna rubbers and has
aatUbunced that it wxU start production
of PerbuiMte late in 1940. The: Pire-

Slid Bubber Compel^ hal

patents and
{flans for starting pro-

’/’r'

\ >

1 > 'I

Btandani jDil

the ■QiaJlHMile

'..'/’I, ’■ , ■;

I I • ^ '‘f.

i'' ‘ ''' " '

I << ■ . M i. • '

production of ''Bntjrl Bnbb#,**
is a eop<d3nn«r of olefins unifi diolUEhu.
The proportion of •diolefin ii ih>
tiiat the vulesnised prodnet is essentially
a saturated hydroearW. While no'defl-

nite composition of the mateiial has been
reported, the deseription of its proper-
ties suggests that it is a Vntanez tjrpe
made yulcanisaUe by the nse of a
proportion of a dioleflne. The high pro-
portion of (define in this robber it
different from the others. It is too early
to do more than guess as to its plaoe in
the general picture.

A.rn6T%pol and Byeor, The BydrcMsai^
bon Chemical and Bubber Cknupany has
announced the 8mall>soale production of
**Hyear 0 B*’ and is enlarging its pi>«t
for the manufacture of this maiwfini
There are two types of Byoar, one of
which ia oil resistant and other not.
Both are butadiene copolsmiers of nndhh
closed composition. The B. F. Goodtieh
Company markets prodnets made firam
Hycar under the general trade name.
“.LneripoL"

Ameripol tires made of Hyemr atf
being aold to the publie at a premium of
about 80 per cent, above the cost of tires
luade of natural rubber. Bzperienee iuh
dica^ that these tires are equivalent in
quality to the present tires of natural
rubber. There are a number of imfanr
differenoes in the prodnetion of, tires
when B^ear is used. Thronedt oontinn-
ous stnall-seale prodnetion the B. F.
Coodrich Company hopes to solve the
more outstan^ng problems before the

need for large-scale prodnetion Imigr
arise. . f ■

The ofl-reeirtaitt type (xf Hyear is
being need ealensively in sucdi menhen -
ie|l goods as hose, gaskets and artieles
for tile printing and antomiitivs ^ dn s-
tries. The serviee given by tiie .finkdied
artkdee has proved to bs very satis-
factory. '

Bb^droeariion

ber Company haa^keaniitfm^ thoB

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

F. Goodrich Company and the Phillips
Petroleum Company to inte^rrate the
production and sale of the crude syn-
thetic rubber which is being offered on
the market as Hycar.

Chemigum, The Goodyear Tire and
Rubber Company has announced the
small-scale production of “ Chemigum
and is expanding its production. It is
a butadiene copolymer of undisclosed
composition which is resistant to oil.

The company is using ‘‘ Chemigum
in regular production in various types
of mechanical goods where oil resistance
is important. It is proving satisfactory
in such service. Experimental tires have
been made and have given good service
in tests.

Synthetic Rubbbeb in the
United States

As a national problem for the United
States the synthetic rubber problem
should be considered from two technical
angles: (1) as a replacement for natural
rubber, and (2) as an improvement over
natural rubber; and from two economic
angles: (1) under normal economic con-
ditions, and (2) under emergency con-
ditions. The views expressed here are
the personal views of the author.

As improvements on natural rubber,
Neoprene, Buna N, Hycar and Chemi-
gum have already established positions
in the American rubber industry because
the superior properties which can be ob-
tained with them are worth more than
the added cost as compared with natural
rubber. The production of Neoprene is
now on a large scale (J to 1 million
pounds per month), although even this
comprises less than one per cent, of the
total rubber used. Substantial produc-
tion of Buna N by the Standard Oil
Company, of Hycar by Hydrocarbon
Chemical and Rubber Company, and of
Chemigum by the Goodyear Company is
expected before the end of 1940. While
in one sense these materials compete with

natural rubber, they also tend to expand
its use because they are often used with
it in composite structures where rubber
alone would be unsatisfactory.

The use of these materials is based
chiefly on their resistance to oils, oxida-
tion and sunlight. Butyl rubber is re-
ported not to be resistant to oils but to
have other properties which should lead
to considerable use. With increasing
knowledge other types of S3nithetic rub-
ber may be expected with other special
|)roperties. There should be continued
expansion of the use of these special syn-
thetic rubbers regardless of the price of
natural rubber.

Korosoal, Thiokol and Vistanex have
also shown their worth under normal
economic conditions. Thiokol is used
principally for solvent resistant hose,
packing, etc. Except for wire and cable
covering, the uses of Koroseal and Vista-
nex are principally in fields where rub-
ber has never been used to any great
extent. Technically these materials
might be substituted for rubber in a
considerable volume of production, but
ordinarily such a substitution would not
be profitable.

The position of a synthetic replace-
ment for natural rubber will depend on
its relative cost and quality. Crude rub-
ber is a high-quality product with ex-
cellent characteristics for factory proc-
essing. So far none of the synthetics
has proved much better for any of the
large volume uses. Hence, unless new
advantages are discovered, the competi-
tion will be on a cost basis. This type
of rubber will probably be either a poly-
mer of a copolymer of butadiene. Its
cost vnll depend considerably on the vol-
ume of production. For at least the next
decade in this country petroleum ap-
pears to offer the most economical source
of butadiene.

Rubber is one of the most important
raw materials obtained almost exclu-
sively outside of the United States, and

SYNTHETIC RUBBER

the continuation of an adequate supply
is a vital part of any program of national
defense. Even by the end of 1940 the
total production of all the materials dis-
cussed here will probably not exceed 5
per cent, of the rubber requirements of
the country. To satisfy this demand
there will be required an industry with
a capacity at least twenty times that of
the present production of synthetic rub-
ber, almost ten times that of the present
dye industry and three to five times that
of the present synthetic resin industrJ^
Such production is not built up over-
night, even under emergency conditions.

If shipments of rubber should be
stopped, present supj)lies could be ex-
tended to meet requirements for about
a year by expanding the production and
use of reclaim and synthetics already in
production. Plant construction and
operation would be greatly aided by the
knowledge already available from the

SCIENCE AND

One of the only two articles that remain in my
creed of life is that the future of our civilization
depends upon the widening spread and deepening
hold of the scientific habit of mind ; and that the
problem of problems in our education is there-
fore to discover how to mature and make of-
fectivo this scientific habit. Mankind so far
has been ruled by things and by words, not by
thought, for till the last few moments of history,
humanity has not boon in possession of the condi-
tions of secure and effective thinking. Without
ignoring in the least the consolation that has
come to men from their literary education, I
would even go so far as to say that only the
gradual replacing of a literary by a scientific
education can assure to man the progressive
amelioration of his lot.

Scientific method is not just a method which
it has been found profitable to pursue in this or
that abstruse subject for purely technical rea-

production of various types of synthetic
rubber. Even so, it would probably take
two or three years to raise production to
an adequate level. Such expansion is
not normally practical and will require
government support as a defense mea-
sure.

The National Defense Advisory Com-
mittee, in considering what might be
done to replace rubber should its impor-
tation be prevented, is studying the
problem of quantity production of syn-
thetic rubber in this country. It seems
advisable that definite plans should be
made promptly so that the manufacture
of synthetic rubber in substantial quan-
tities can be started as soon as possible.
Experience in its manufacture and utili-
zation for the more essential rubber
products will give assurance of the abil-
ity of the nation to replace natural rub-
ber without delay should the necessity
arise.

DEMOCRACY

sons. It roprosents the only method of think-
ing that has proved fruitful in any subject —
that is what wo mean when we call it scientific.
It is not a peculiar development of thinking for
highly specialized ends; it is thinking so far
as thought has become conscious of its proper
ends and of the equipment indispensable for suc-
cess in their pursuit.

If ever we are to bo governed by intelligence,
not by things and by words, science must have
something to say about what wo do, and not
merely about how we may do it most easily and
economically. And if this consummation is
achieved, the transformation must occur through
education, by bringing home to man’s habitual
inclination and attitude the significance of genu-
ine knowledge and the full import of the condi-
tions requisite for its attainment . — John Dewey,
in **The Scientific Method and Study of Proih
esses. * ’

HEREDITY AND THE PHYSICIAN

By Dr. MADGE THURLOW MACHXIN

lODICAIi SCBOOt, UinVEBaiTT Of WKSTEBN ONTABIO, IiOKOOir, OiHAOA

Tbb belief by the physician that an
intimate knowledge of the constitutional
background of his patient is of distinct
value to him has undergone changes in
the past century. At a time when the
“family physician” was indeed one who
ministered to the whole family, who
knew and treated the brothers and sis-
ters of his patient, the uncles and aunts
and the cousins, such a close under-
standing of the family fiber was to the
physician a sixth sense. It supplemented
what he heard, saw and felt in his
patients, and taught him often to know
what to expect and how they would react
to his treatment. Thus he knew that
Mrs. H. would probably be an invalid
for weeks after her children were bom,
while Mrs. M. would be up and around
within a week. He had learned that the
N children ran a very high fever without
much serious trouble, and that the T
children were likely to have convulsions
during relatively minor illnesses. When
Mr. S. would come hurrying in to say
that little Amelia, who was bright and
well yesterday, was crying fitfully and
running a fever, his fbrst thought was,
“Another ranning ear : whenever any of
those children get a cold, they always
have running ears.” Or when Mrs. Z.
came to him in her first pregnancy, he
was more than watchful, for he had seen
kidney complications in her grand-
mother, her mother and her older sister.
He had seen little Tommy P. die of
hemorrhage after he lost his first tooth,
and he felt helpless when Tommy’s little
brother began to bleed from a scratch on
the forehead, although he applied all the
treatments recognised by the profession
of his time. He knew that some of his

patients would weather most illnesses
and live to be old men and women, while
others would fade quietly away from
conditions not half so severe. Not always
were his predictions correct, but the
knowledge of the background of his
patient helped him again and again, and
his recognition of the constitution of the
sufferer was often as important in his
diagnosis, prognosis and treatment of
the case as were the facts which he ob-
tained through observation with his keen
eyes, or through the tips of his sensitive
fiiagers.

iNFiiimNCB OF Baotbbioloot Ufon
Impobtanob of Hbreditt

And then a new order came to replace
the old. Science taught that many of the
diseases which he treated were due to
infinitely small forms of life, entering
the body of the patient perhaps through
the nose or the lungs, where they grew
into millions of other small forms of life,
and thus caused the illness. The vogue
of bacteriology with its precision in iso-
lating the germ, and in finding that the
same germ always caused the same dis-
ease, left well in the background the idea
that the constitution of the patient was
of great importance. If you developed
tuberculosis when your mother had died
of it, it was not because you had in-
herited the weak lungs of your maternal
parent, but because you had bem ex-
posed to the tubercle bacillus that had
killed her, and so you succumbed. Loco-
motor ataxia in father and son did not
arise because they were relate but
because both were exposed to the spiro-
chaete of Disease after disease

was shown to be caused by bacteria, para-

HEREDITY AND THE PHYSICIAN

dtos, virases, until it seemed that the
constitutional background of the patient
had little to do with his getting sick, and
that the environment was responsible for
all his ills.

As industry expanded, new chemicals
brought new hazards ; and more illnesses,
formerly thought to run in families, were
found to be dependent upon the simi-
larity of occupation of various members
of the family group. Also as industry
grew and as transportation facilities in-
creased, sons and daughters left the vil-
lages where they were born, and mi-
grated to cities or to new lands. There
they came into the hands of physicians
who did not know them or their fore-
bears; who treated them as individual
patients and not as members of a fam-
ily with certain traits. Migrations also
made members of families lose contact
with one another, so that a son in one
part of the country or in a distant
land did not know what his grandmother
died of or what had been the character
of the illness which took off his father
in bis early fifties. In this way, be-
cause the patient knew less of his fam-
ily, he was able to give less and less
information to the doctor; who in turn,
because he got less and less information
about the family from his patient, grew
more and more cursory in the examina-
tion into the history of his patients’
families, until finally we have the medi-
cal profession sinking to the level of
writing on a history sheet, “Family his-
tory negative. “ As if the family history
of a patient ever could be negative!
None of his relatives may ever have had
the same illness from which the patient
suffered, but he had a father and mother ;
they were either alive or dead ; if alive,
they had reached a definite age and were
either well or ill If ill, they were ill of
some disease; if dead, they died at a
certain age and of some cause. The
patient waa either the only child in the
family or there were others; if there

were others, they were either younger or
older, were male or female, were alive
and well or ill ; or had died of some cause
at some age. There can be no such thing
as a “negative family history,’* and the
physician or the mescal student or in-
terne who writes that down acknowledges
thereby that either he has been too lazy
to inquire for the facts or too indifferent
to write down the facta which he elicited.

True, it is not always necessary on a
history sheet to write down a long dis-
course on the family of the patient. If a
man comes in with a broken leg, acquired
from having fallen from a truck, it prob-
ably does not contribute either to the
diagnosis, the prognosis or the treatment
to know of what his grandparents died
or whether he has brothers and sisters.
But if the patient states that his leg
snapped when he was rising from his
chair, a family history is of interest and
importance. In other words, when the
disease with which one deals is of obvious
external origin, family history is not so
essential, although it should be taken
with care; but when the disease with
which one is dealing is of constitutional
origin, a family history may be of great
significance and should be taken most
carefully.

Diboovkbt of thb Laws of HsaErarr

Oddly enough not only did baetmriol-
ogy and scattering of family groups play
a part in lessening the emphasis on the
value of heredity to the physician, but
the discovery of Mendel’s work and the
keen awakening of the scientific world to
the laws of inheritance discouraged ac-
ceptance of evidences of heredity ^ man.
The use of forms like Drosophila in
which a whole lifetime is telescoped into
a few days, in which innumerable gen-
erations can be bred in the working life-
time of a scientist; or the use even of
mammals like mice which may produce
four generations to a year, instead of
four to a century, so impressed every one

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

with the value of the experimental
method in genetics that those unable to
use such a method on human material^
and able to observe at the most only
three generations, perhaps not more than
two, came to believe that what little they
could observe in man was worthless.
This attitude was to a large extent
fostered by some geneticists who felt that
unless the matings could be experimen-
tally controlled observations were use-
less. Of course such an attitude was
wrong. The observer of human material
is handicapped to a tremendous degree,
because he can not make experimental
matings, nor do his subjects reproduce in
large enough numbers for the data to be
significant, nor can he examine the germ
cells for cytological evidence of disturb-
ances in the chromosomes. But all this
does not preclude his making careful
observations of matings that do occur,
and of applying other methods than
those of the experimentalist to his obser-
vations. Even the experimental geneti-
cist often can not tell the hybrid form
from the homozygous dominant until he
breeds it to the homozygous recessive and
finds that he has offspring of two kinds.
If he mates two hybrids, he often can
not tell which of the animals exhibiting
the dominant trait is homozygous for
it and which is hybrid. He must
breed them to find out ; and so it is with
man. Observations on the results of
human matings may be of as much value
in some instances as are those on the
progeny of controlled' experimental mat-
ings; the difficulty is that they are so
few in number and one has to wait for
such matings to occur spontaneously.

The explanations which the observer
of human heredity makes of his observa-
tions must of course rest upon facts
which the experimentalist elicits from his
controlled matings. He can test his data
by the experimentalists’ criteria, and ar-
rive at conclusions that are worth while.
After all, it is not of much value to the

physician to find that a certain malfor-
mation is due to a deletion instead of a
translocation of a specific chromosome in
his patient. What is of infinitely more
value to him is that if his patient has
produced a child with a certain type of
malformation, she may produce another
such child, and that the chances of dupli-
cation of the deformity in later offspring
are fairly large for some deformities
and negligible for others. Even when he
knows that the chances are one in two
that a son of a carrier mother will de-
velop hemophilia, he can not predict that
the next child will be a son or, if it is,
that it will inevitably inherit the gene
for hemophilia. Nor can the scientist
with his controlled matings under sim-
ilar circumstances predict what percent-
age of the next litter of mice or of the
next batch of fiies will show a certain
trait. Both can predict averages on the
basis of laws of probabilities, but neither
can predict accurately the specific traits
which each offspring will show when his
parents are not homozygous.

Reawakening of Interest in Medical

Qsnetics

The pendulum is now beginning to
swing back again to a belief that inheri-
tance plays a large role in disease, and
that the physician who knows the fun-
damentals of the laws of heredity and
who knows the family background of his
patient is better equipped to diagnose,
treat and give a prognosis intelligently
than is the man who lacks such knowl-
edge. It is being recognized that, al-
though bacteria cause disease, suscepti-
bility and immunity to these bacteria
are hereditary. Webster has shown with
his mice that epidemics introduced at
will into his colonies rage with violence
or die out, depending upon the relative
proportions of hereditarily highly sus-
ceptible or highly immune animals which
he has placed in the population.

It has been shown that although the

HEEEDITY AND THE PHYSICIAN

physician lacks the experimental method
in studies in human heredity, observa-
tions on many cases by many workers do
lead to certain general principles which
he can use, both in advising his patients
and in diagnosing and treating their ills.
There have been several factors respon-
sible for this rebirth of appreciation of
the importance of a knowledge of hered-
ity to the physician. One is tlie fact that
many more of the general public are be-
ing educated in colleges and are being
exposed to the teachings of biologists.
Here they may learn something of the
general laws of heredity, and may learn
to appreciate that man is subject to them
as well as are the animals and plants
whose hereditary traits they see exem-
plified in the laboratory. Medical stu-
dents also are learning a little genetics
in their premedical courses. A second
factor is the popularization of science by
certain writers, who put into the hands
of the non-medical public simplified
genetic truths as discovered in the lab-
oratory. A third factor is the leavening
influence of a few ardent students of
human heredity, both within and with-
out the medical profession, who strive
to have genetic truths taught to the
medical students who are to be the phy-
sicians of to-morrow. They meet with
the objections that there is no time in
the medical curriculum for any new sub-
jects and that there should be a closed
season for medical students,^’ that the
students can pick these things up for
themselves in the clinics, etc.

As Lord Horder once remarked, there
would be room in the medical curricu-
lum, were other less important things
discarded, to make a place for a course
in inheritance in disease. The students
might be spared learning the times of
appearance of all the ossification centers
in the bones of the body, that being
better typed upon a card and hung above
the desk than carried in the head to the
exclusion of more important matters.

The same might be said of so much ana-
tomical detail which the student is ex-
pected to cram into his mind, and which
he never uses unless he does so at the
autopsy table, at which time he can look
up the standard measurements and
weights of organs. He might give up
learning what veratrin and curare do to
frog’s muscles, which he will never use
in his clinical work, for the sake of learn-
ing the syndromes which he will meet in
his patients. He will probably never
hear of many of the hereditary disorders
unless he learns of them in a course in
genetics. There is not much use in
hoping that students will read about in-
heritance in disease after they leave
medical school unless they are taught the
rudiments of the subject in their stu-
dent days. To the physician who knows
something of the laws of inheritance,
and what types of disease are likely to
be inherited, examples of hereditary dis-
orders are constantly manifesting them-
selves ; to the physician who knows noth-
ing of this fascinating subject, they are
completely lost.

The following is an example. Not long
ago a friend told me of an acquaintance
who had suddenly developed intense
swelling of the eyelids, so that she could
not see. Several physicians had seen
her, treated her ineffectively, and she
still remained a blind prisoner in her
room. I asked if she had any relatives
who had had similar experiences, think-
ing that she was probably a sufferer
from hereditary angioneurotic edema.
The victim was quite surprised when
questioned whether any of her family
had a similar trouble and asked how I
knew. In view of the fact that this dis-
ease can be so swiftly fatal if it attacks
the vocal cords, or the laryngeal mucosa,
it would have been desirable for the phy-
sicians in question to have attempted
first to detect any external factor which
might bring on the edema, and second,
if there was any therapy which would

THE SOIENTIFIO MONTHLY

reduce the edema, to give her direetiooe
to always have it about her, and to take
it at the slightest sign of the trouble.
None of the physicians had recognized
the true character of the edema, nor that
it could affect the lar 3 aigeal mucosa as
well as the eyelids.

Value to the Phtsioian

I have said that gradually more of the
medical profession are becoming aware
of the value of a knowledge of inheri-
tance as a part of their professional
equipment. How valuable can it be, and
is it worth while spending time on teach-
ing medical genetics in medical schools f
First, it gives the physician an acquain-
tance with the laws of heredity that
makes him a much more intelligent
reader and writer of medical reports.
It saves him from making the fallacious
statements on heredity which now are
a commonplace in medical literature.
For example, we see the statement made
repeatedly in medical texts, “Disease X
is hereditary in a small per cent, of the
cases, familial in a much larger per
cent., and sporadic in almost half the
instances.” The percentages differ of
course for different diseases. Or we
may see that “Disease Y is not heredi-
tary, it is merely familial. ’ ’ Such state-
ments would not occur, of course, if
medical students were trained in genet-
ics and knew that sometimes a disease
may run directly through two or more
generations (the so-called hereditary
cases) or it may be transmitted as a re-
cessive and appear in several siblings
without there being any history of it in
ancestors (the so-called familial cases) :
and finally that it may appear in only
one child in a family without there be-
ing necessity of densing its hereditary
nature. If the disease is transmitted as
a recessive, then the majority of oases
will be “sporadic,” since more families
are likely to have but one affected ths"
they are to have two or more affected.

This is true in all families with five or
fewer children. Not until we get to
families with six or more children are we
likely to find the majority of families
with at least two affected with a recessive
trait. But as families of six or more
children form less than one fourth of the
population, it is quite clear that the type
of case designated as “sporadic” is the
predominant type. It may nevertheless
be dependent upon factors resident in
the germ cell, and therefore hereditary.

If the physician knew some of the
fundamental genetic laws, he would not
make statements such as this : “Disease X
is known to be a familial disease, but the
patient here described is the only one in
the family affected. Therefore t^ child
can not have disease X, although all the
symptoms and findings are suggestive of
that diagnosis.” It would seem obvious
that some child in the family has to be
the first to be affected ; it would be most
unusual to have all the potential vic-
tims develop it simultaneously. As just
stated, if the disease is transmitted ac-
cording to the recessive, one child only
in the family will be affected more often
than will two or more.

Xeroderma pigmentosum, a cancerous
degeneration of the skin, is admittedly
dependent upon a recessive gene substi-
tution, and hence hereditary; neverthe-
less this disease affects only one child in
the family in about two-thirds of the
families, and more than one child in the
remaining third.

The genetically trained physician
would not decide that amaurotic family
idiocy was not dependent upon recessive
genes in the family he described because
it failed to show the 3 :1 ratio expected
in such cases. He might find only one
out of twelve children showing the
anomaly ; but he would know that of all
families of twelve children in whhfii
amaurotic idio^ occurs, <me in every
seven families will have but one of the
children affected, the other eleven ehil>

HEREDITY AND THE PHYSICIAN

dren being nonnal. He will understand
that although one fourth of a family
where both parents are normal but car-
riers of a recessive trait will be affected
on the average, not all families in actual
life will have the ideal percentage of 25
showing the disease. He will not even
demand that a series of families in which
amaurotic idiocy is found should have 25
per cent, affected ; he will know that if he
has a series of families he will probably
find considerably more than 25 per cent,
with this anomaly. He will not say that
polydactyly is not behaving as a domi-
nant trait in the family he reports,
merely because 4 of 6 children, instead
of an expected 3, have too many fingers.
These things he will know and he will be
saved from making gross errors which
serve to lessen his scientific reputation.

But the average physician may object
that he has no intention of writing
articles for journals, and if he did he
would not attempt to discuss the heredi-
tary angle of any disease. Are there,
therefore, any more tangible benefits to
be derived from a study of medical
genetics than that of making him a more
educated man, or than the mere saving
of facet

MsmoiL GBNxnos Helps in Diagnosis

It is quite obvious that the most im-
portant, as well as the most difficult,
part of medical practice is to diagnose
correctly. If one has the diagnosis, then
even the less intelligent can look up in
recent books on therapeutics the most ap-
proved treatment, and carry it through
with a large share of success. The cru-
cial thing is to diagnose properly. Now
a knowledge of medical genetics will not
enable one to diagnose all disease by any
means, but it will help not infrequently
if one's mind is alert to its possibilities.
Let me give a few examples. These
could be mi^tiplied many times, and
they have not been chosen because they
are the most apeotacular, but merely be-

cause they are actual instances in which
a knowledge of inherited disease has
helped the physician, and are instances
which are known to me.

A child of ten or thereabouts devel-
oped a large bony growth on his arm.
The pediatrician, suspecting a malig-
nant growth, had an x-ray picture taken
of the arm. The roentgenologist pro-
nounced it sarcoma and advised imme-
diate amputation at the shoulder. The
parents were unwilling to have this
done, but when the swelling increased
in size they demanded the opinion of
other physicians. The child was taken
to another city, and there the suigeon
who was consulted diagnosed a bony
exostosis. He not only showed that
there were other beginning bony excres-
cences on the child’s skeletal S3^tem,
but also that the father who had accom-
panied the child had bony exostoses,
none of which had ever grown large
enough to call his attention to them.

A man was brought to a physician
with a history of repeated hemorrhages
from the stomach, the last so severe as
practically to exsanguinate him. The
diagnosis rested between several possi-
bilities, one being gastric ulcer. Should
diet or surgery be employed! The
father of the patient volunteered the in-
formation that be had suffered from pro-
fuse nosebleeds all bis life. To the man
imacquainted with hereditary diseases
(and again let me emphasize that many
of the ber^itary diseases are not men-
tioned in the ordinary course in medi-
cine, and hence the student is unaware
of their existence), there would seem to
be no connection between epistaxis in the
father and gastric hemorrhage in the
son. But to the genetically initiated,
the possibility that the father had telan-
giectasis in the blood vessels of the nasal
mucosa, while the son had the same
anomaly in the vessels of the gastric
mucosa, was very real. Exploratory op-
eration, with jh.e wall of the stomach il-

THE SOIENTIPIC MONTHLY

laminated, showed that the ph^^sician’s
* ‘ hunch was correct and a large dilated
thin-walled vessel which had ruptured
was found and excised. The patient re-
covered and his gastric hemorrhages
stopped.

A child of about eight, with thin,
sparse hair, dry skin and a few irregu-
lar teeth, was taken to a physician for
treatment. The diagnosis of myxedema
was made and the child was given thy-
roid medication. He did not improve,
but seemed definitely worse and finally
refused to take any more medicine. He
was then taken to another physician who
had heard of hereditary ectodermal dys-
trophy, and who recognized that the
thin, fine hair, the absent teeth, the dry
skin might all be explained by the fact
that in the development of this child,
something had gone wrong with the
derivatives of the ectoderm, so that he
lacked most of his hair follicles, most of
his tooth buds, and all or most of his
sweat glands. Examination of others in
the family showed that the mother, too,
had fine sparse hair, dry skin and lacked
some teeth. It was true that the correct
diagnosis could not initiate an active
correct treatment, but it could bring
about one that was passive, which was to
leave the child alone. He was already
suffering from inability to regulate his
body temperature through evaporation
of sweat, and suffered intensely in hot
weather because of that failure in his
heat-regulating mechanism. The first
type of treatment whipped up his me-
tabolism to a higher rate and made him
even more uncomfortable than before.

Recognition of this syndrome of ecto-
dermal dystrophy in children may be of
great therapeutic assistance when they
develop childhood diseases, for they run
a grave risk of dying from lethal tem-
peratures following mild infections, be-
cause of inability to lower the tempera-
ture by evaporation and radiation.
Treatment directed toward keeping the

temperature within bounds may save
them.

The YAiiUE of Medical Obketios in

Treatment

Naturally, if diagnostic ability is im-
proved, therapeutic measures will im-
proves accordingly. If the bony lump is
diagnosed as sarcoma, amputation is the
treatment prescribed, but if an exostosis
is recognized, the arm is saved. If gas-
tric ulcer is suspected a dietary regime
may be instituted, which would help the
ulcer, but leave untouched the dilated
blood vessel causing the trouble. If
what looks like a fractured clavicle
does not heal, the patient may be sub-
jected to several operative procedures
to insure union of the ends of the bone ;
but if the physician has recognized that
the clavicle on the other side which was
not broken also has ends which are not
united, he recognizes his patient as an
example of cranio-cleido-dysostosis and
does nothing. No completely rational
treatment can ever be given until the
physician knows what is wrong with the
patient. I recall two small boys, both of
whom were diagnosed as problem chil-
dren by psychologically minded physi-
cians. The first, although six, suffered
from enuresis. Despite punishment, va-
rious kinds of treatment, etc., the child
continued to wet his bed. Finally he
was taken to another physician, who
looked at him not as a psychological but
as a physical problem, and elicited from
the mother the fact that the child drank
huge quantities of water at all times,
even during the night. Realizing that
he wet the bed because be drank so much
water and that he had diabetes insipi-
dus, he diagnosed the case as the Hand-
Schiller-Christian syndrome, in which
xanthomatosis of the bones of the skull,
exophthalmos and diabetes insipidus are
present. That physician controlled the
enuresis by proper medication. Up to
the present, this disease has not been

HEREDITY AND THE PHYSICIAN

included in the category of hereditary
diseases, but it probably will be found
to belong there. It is due to an anomaly
of lipoid metabolism and as such very
probably has a genetic basis.

The other little boy was considered
a problem child at a very early age by
an over psychologically minded pedia-
trician. He vomited practically every-
thing which was given him except his
mother’s milk. He was looked upon as
having such a strong maternal fixation
that he would eat no food other than hers
without vomiting it. But his father was
an asthmatic, a sufferer from hay fever
and strongly allergic to a number of
foreign proteins ; his mother was highly
allergic to several plants, and her whole
family for three generations were aller-
gic to various foods, plants, dyes, etc.
When he was finally recognized as a
product not of psychological traumata,
but of his hereditary allergies and when
rational treatment of gradual immuniza-
tion to egg white, to cow’s milk, etc.,
was instituted, he ceased being a prob-
lem child.

If the physician has heard of the
hereditary disorder known as periodic
paralysis he may bring his patient out
of an attack or may inhibit an attack
by injection of potassium salts. But if
the practitioner has never heard of this
syndrome, he may be non-plussed or
think that the patient is malingering;
or he may even try to psychoanalyze him
out of some subconscious complex.

The condition known as myotonia con-
genita or Thomsen’s disease has a curi-
ous history. The man who first de-
scribed it was himself its victim. It con-
sists of difficulty in initiating or stop-
ping voluntary motion. Thus the man
who wants to shake hands with you can
not raise his hand quickly enough to
meet yours, but when he finally clasps
your hand firmly, he continues to hold
it in an ever-increasing embarrassment.
The son of the doctor who first described

this syndrome was being punished for
malingering by the military authorities,
for he could not (or would not, as the
officers thought) obey an order promptly.
He could not march when the order was
given ; then when his comrades were ten
paces away, he would start up slowly at
first but with ever increasing accelera-
tion until he was marching normally.
But when the order to halt came, he still
went on walking for about ten paces
more. The father, who had managed to
keep his defect to himself, by never mak-
ing any sudden move and by concentrat-
ing for some moments before he made
any motion, revealed his condition in
order to save the lad from punishment.

Although this condition was described
many years ago, it had been forgotten,
and when two brothers, both with the dis-
ease, were drafted in the German army
during the War of 1914, they underwent
for months much the same experiences
as those just related. Finally the medi-
cal officer before whom one brother came
for examination after having served kit-
chen duty for his supposed disobedience,
recognized the disease, and the soldier
was dismissed. He then managed to get
his other brother out of the army also.

A patient whose brother had devel-
oped gastric carcinoma had his symp-
toms of digestive disturbance treated by
a genetically minded practitioner with
far more concern than would have been
the case had there been no such family
history. Twins developed breast cancer,
several years apart. Later another pri-
mary cancer in the other breast devel-
oped in each twin; and finally an ovar-
ian carcinoma occurred in the first twin*
Should the ovaries of the second twin be
removed as a preventive measure or
should she merely be watched f If the
latter course is adopted, it is safe to say
that if she develops ovarian carcinoma,
it will be detected at an earlier date
than it would have been had there been
no hereditary history of it.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Mbdioal Genetics m the Field or Pee-

VENTIVE MeOIOINE

If it is easier to diagnose disease, it
becomes as a matter of course easier to
treat it and ultimately to prevent it.

Our eyes have been turned so con-
stantly on the infections diseases that we
have largely forgotten that preventive
medicine in the realm of inherited dis-
ease also furnishes a very large scope
for our ingenuity. And so successful
have we been in the realm of infec-
tious diseases that many which formerly
claimed a large percentage of the popu-
lation have been completely or almost
completely eliminated. With each ad-
vance in that field we will be confronted
in ever greater numbers by hrafeditary
diseases, and if we would avail ourselves
of all opportunities for preventive work
we must begin to bring these diseases
into the orbit of our consciousness.
Some hereditary diseases will be impos-
sible of prevention, since we can not
know what initiates them other than that
they are dependent upon hereditary fac-
tors, but in some instances we may pre-
vent their manifestations. Thus in peri-
odic paralysis, we can not prevent the
sufferer from inheriting a peculiar po-
tassium metabolism, but we can prevent
the symptoms from appearing by fur-
nishing him with potassium. In perni-
cious anemia, we can diagnose the early
stages of the disease in those who have
not yet developed it, by looking for the
gastric juice alterations that seem to be
its forerunners. Long before the blood
picture in the circulation alters, or be-
fore the heniopoietic system undergoes
its primary change, and long, loi^ be-
fore the nervous symptoms are mani-
fested, one can detect the achylia gas-
trica in potential pernicious anemia pa-
tients. By proper therapy it may be
possible to prevent Gie actual disease
symptoms from appearing. Whether
this will be completely and always pos-
sible we have yet to see; this form of

preventive medicine is too young for UB
to make any pronouncement upon it.

Cardiovascular disease has long bem
first in the list of “causes of death.”
Many of these conditions are of course
not Weditary; they are due to damage
done to heart and vessels by some in-
fectious condition. These are being less-
ened materially, and hence the cases of
cardiovascular diseases that are left will
become increasingly more and more of
the type that depend upon hereditary
factors. Hypertension, at least some
forms of it, runs in families, and hyper-
tension is one of the elements in the
cardiovascular death rate. If we can find
some .therapy that will prevent the pres-
sure from rising (and recent work shows
promise), and if we are able to detect the
members of the family who are potential
hypertensives, then we may administer
the medication, thus preventing or in-
hibiting the appearance for a long time
of the heightened blood pressure.

The earliest onset of diabetes may be
detected if the physician is watching for
it in members of a family in which it
occurs. By proper dietary regime and
administration of insulin, the full effects
of the disease may be prevented. Can-
cer of the rectum may be forestalled by
removal of the polypoid growths in
persons as yet unaffected with cancer.
Cancer of the uterus may be prevented
in some women whose female relatives
are prone to develop cancer of the uterus
by having the uterus removed after the
number of children desired has been
bom. Numerous examples of the pre-
ventive side of hereditary diseases will
occur to the alert practitioner.

Advioe to Pabents

One of the direct means of preventing
hereditary disease is, of course, not to
have the potential victims of the disease
procreated. If a woman has given birth
to one boy with hmophilia, the volun-
tary restriction of hmr family will pre-

HBEBDITY AND THE PHYSICIAN

vent labseqnent sons in which the dis-
ease might develop. Since she will have
no more daughters who may have sons
to bleed, cdie prevents the disease from
being passed on to future generations.
A woman who has had one child die or
lose his sight from retinoblastoma can
limit her family, thereby preventing
other potential victims from being bom.
If the hereditary disease is one which
appears early in the life of the indi-
vidual, then family limitation can be of
value in wiping out the disease; but if
it is one that appears when the child
is fully grown, then the mother has prob-
ably had all her children before she
knew of the defect in her offspring.

If the disease is one that is deleterious
and is transmitted as a dominant, then
the affected persons can refrain from
procreation if the defect appears early
enough in their lifetime; or if it be one
which occurs after the persons have had
their offspring, but is undesirable, then
potential victims of it should not have
children. Thus a man or woman, one of
whose parents has developed Hunting-
ton's Chorea, stands an even chance of
inheriting the disease. It may not show
up in them until 46, but it so completely
wrecks the life of the patient that such
persons should not reproduce even if
they are not sure that they have in-
herited the malady. Just one genera-
tion of refusal to bear children on the
part of those whose parents have de-
veloped this disease would mean its elim-
ination.

We must use our common sense in giv-
ing advice in this field of preventive
medicine. If the defect or disease is one
which has not been appearing until the
patient has lived a long useful life, not
only is it useless to try to prevent the
disease from being passed on, but it is
undesirable to do so. Take cancer, for
example. If a man dies of rectal cancer
at 70, one ehii not breed out that disease
from his family, for all his children and
probably dl his grandchildren will have

been bora before his disease overtakes
him. The only way to wipe out cancor
from that family would be for all his
descendants who were still young enou^
to procreate to refrain from reprodno-
ing. It would be far better to have'them
and their descendants as good citisens
for 60 or 70 years, dying of cancer in
old age, than to have their stock lost to
the commnnily in order to wipe out that
strain of cancer. Moreover, it is not at
all certain that they have inherited the
factors for rectal cancer ; or, if they have
inherited them, it is not at all certain
that they will live long enough to die
their inherited condition, because death
at an earlier age from some other disease
is likely to occur. If, on the other hand,
it is a tumor such as retinoblastoma
which is taking the child at an early age,
and which either means death or dis-
figurement, those who are likely to have
offspring with such a tragic inheritance
should refrain from reproducing chil-
dren whose heritage is far from being a
goodly one.

If one's mental and physical endow-
ment is good through a long lifetime, and
if the hereditary disease is not one which
means leaving ^e patient for years to be
cared for by the community, it would
seem unwise to attempt to breed out the
hereditary disease. If it is one that is
devastating in its effect, and appears at
an early age, parents have no moral
right to bring children into the world
who may suffer from such diseases, if
they know that such probabilities exist.
The final balance must be struck after
weighing the time of onset and balancing
the good qualities that the patient 'piay
inherit against the undesirable ones
which are also to be his portion. Unless
the oxiset is late and the good far out-
weighs the bad, then it were better to

Oaneel from the seroU,

Of UnivOTO, OM luoUeM Iramaa sool.

Than drop bp drop enlarge toe flood
which rolls,

Hoaraer with aagniih as toe ages roQ.

THE SdENTIFIO MONTHLY

A knowledge of inkeritanoe is of value
when the physician is asked to give ad-
vice to a mother who has had a mal-
formed child. She wants to know
whether she is likely to have another such
mishap. No matter how rare the defect,
the physician can not assure the parents
that such a mistake can not occur again
and that subsequent children are certain
to be normal. If such assurances are
given, the unexpected often happens and
the mother has a second defective child.
It is heartbreaking for the parents who
have relied upon the doctor’s assurances
when such an accident occurs and it is
detrimental to the doctor’s prestige, and
not infrequently loses for him the family
and their friend as patients. Following
are a few examples known personally to
have occurred. A mother who was an
elderly woman at the birth of her first
child had the tragic experience of having
it bleed to death from hemorrhage of the
lungs at one day. This occurred before
the days of Vitamin K. Feeling that she
had perhaps not had the best prenatal
care in the village where she lived, she
went to a city during her next preg-
nancy and placed herself under the care
of a specialist for several months b^ore
the second child was bom. The same
thing happened, and her child bled to
death before it was one day old. But she
had undergone that second pregnancy
after she bad been told that “It could
not happen again.’’ Another mother
whose first baby had a trident hand was
informed that nature might play that
trick once but not twice in a family. Her
second baby was a duplicate of the first,
and the family changed doctors.

With some defects, one can almost, but
not quite, guarantee that the mother’will
not have other children similarly de-
formed, while with other defects it is
almost certain that she will have other
children similarly affected. Thus a
mother who has had one anencephalic
baby is likely to have a second malformed

child who probably will also be anenee-
phalic. A mother who has had a baby
bom with an arm miaring can not be
assured that her subsequent children will
be all right, but the chances are much in
favor that &ey will be normal, especially
if the parents were not related.

Thb Physician as a Bboobd Gathhbbb

Not only should the {fiiysiciaa be
trained in genetics for the added breadth
of knowledge it affords him, for the
greater benefit which it brings in diag-
nosis, treatment and prevention of dis-
ease, but be should know what is of value
for genetic records. The geneticist u not
in a position to gather the data from
which the general principles of human
genetics are drawn ; the physician is the
only one who can do that. But he is not
trained and hence much of his record
taking is useless for the medical geneti-
cist who would use his data together with
those of other physicians for formulating
laws. Thus in reporting a case of in-
herited disease, he may inquire as to
whether the parents were related, but if
they say no, he does not record that fact.
The geneticist does not know if this point
of consanguinity was inquired into, and
the answer found to be negative, or if
the physician never thought to ask about
it, in which case the parents might have
been related. Again the child with the
disease may be the only one affected in
the family. If the record states that
there were four other normal children,
the record is of value, since it smrves for
pedigree analysis ; but if the record does
not state whether there were other sibs
or if so, how many, such a record is
worthless. If repeatedly large families
of ten or twelve children are found with
but one child affected, then one is con-
strained to find some other interpreta-
tion than that the disease is dependent
upon a recessive gene substitution. A
few such families are expected, but they
diould not be in the majority. Hence

HEREDITY AND THE PHYSICIAN

the nnmber of sibs is important, and the
genetically trained physician is so aware
of this that he would not omit such in-
formation from his record.

The age of onset is important. If the
disease begins at 15, and the patient is
the oldest in the family, the fact that the
younger sibs under 15 are unaffected
does not mean that they are necessarily
normal. They may develop the disease
later on. But if all were older than the
patient, it might be assumed that they
were really normal. The genetically
trained man will realize the importance
of such information and record it.

He will not speak of the patient as
“it" or “the child" or “the patient"
but will give the sex, for some diseases
are more prone to occur in one sex than
the other, and the mode of their inheri-
tance may be determined by the sex dis-
tribution. Therefore the sex will be
recorded. All the other data will be
recorded briefly and in usable form.

Thb Impoktanob or Bjecobob on Twins

The genetically trained physician will
appreciate the importance of twins in the
field of genetic research and will not only
keep records on all pairs of twins smong
his patients, but will record them in the
literature in usable form. He will not
select cases in which both twins were
affected with a similar condition, but will
report as well aU cases in which one twin
oiUy was affected. He will know that
any conclusions he reaches on identical
twins must be controlled by similar ob-
servations on fraternal twins. Records
will not appear in which the following
axe not clearly stated ; (1) the sex of both
twins, (2) whether they resemble each
other very closely, or are unlike, and if
possible (S) what their blood groups,
their coloring, their physical measure-
ments are, and (4) pictures of well-taken

finger prints, so that the reader can esti-
mate the validity of the criteria upon
which their mono- or di-sygosity was
judged. More careful examination of
the membranes will be made before it is
stated that the twins were monoohorial,
and hence from one egg, especially if the
two show widely dissimilar characters.
The possibility that the twins are from
two eggs, that the placentae have fused,
and that the membranes also have closely
fused, giving the appearance of but one
chorion, when there are in reality two,
will be considered, and the true state of
affairs recorded. Perhaps no one man
will see enough twin pairs with any
specific inherited trait to make his own
records worth analyzing, but if his rec-
ords are published, they will be a verit-
able treasure house for the trained
medical geneticist.

The physician who is the guardian of
his patient’s health, who is the adviser
and friend of his patient, will find his
ability to diagnose and treat that
patient’s ills enhanced, and his counsel
better founded if he is genetically
trained. Moreover, he may become a
true research worker, not in the labora-
tory with chemicals or animals, but in
the realm of human genetics, by pains-
takingly recording the accurate details
of his patient’s background as well as of
his hereditary illness, and by making
these available to the geneticist who can
analyze them accurately. Many physi-
cians regret their inability to do research
through lack of time, lack of money, lack
of facilities for undertaking the study
of some problem. The field of human
heredity offers them their greatest oppor-
tunity ; for there is scarcely a physician
who does not encounter some case that
offers chance to contribute valuable data
toward the solution of some genetic prob-
lem.

AMATEUR SCIENTISTS AND THEIR

ORGANIZATIONS

By W. STEPHEN THOMAS

SXSODTIVB aZOSKFABT, COlOlITm ON mVOATIOH AND PAKFIOIFATION IK SOIBNCB, AlOBOAK

PHIUWOPBICIAI. B9OIKTT

To-dat, “amateur” and “profes-
sional” are terms used with increasing
emphasis in reference to many spheres
of human endeavor. From athletics and
politics to literature and gardening we
make a distinction between the person
who carries on a certain activity for his
livelihood and another who engages in
it for quite difFerent reasons. Science is
another domain in which sharp differ-
ences are drawn between amateur and
professional participants. Although we
can not forget that amateur can be used
in the sense of dilettante or trifier, when
we speak of an amateur scientist we
mean one whose interest in science takes
the form of a leisure-time hobby or avo-
cation in contrast to the professional
who has formal training and makes his
living in his chosen field. In thi^ latter
use, the word “amateur” conveys the
same meaning as when employed in a
sporting sense, a connotation which is,
indeed, a favorable one.

Not more than a generation or two ago
scientific research had not yet been dig-
nified as a profession. Priests, teachers,
doctors, artists and laymen of many
sorts carried on important investiga-
tions and made outstanding contribu-
tions to the sum of knowledge. Leeuwen-
hoek, Herschel, Darwin and Mendel are
a few of the brilliant figures who did not
make their living from science. To-day,
thousands of persons throughout the
United States, especially those in urban
and suburban communities, are follow-
ing scientific pursuits as a form of recre-
ation. These do not include that equally
large body who make their daily bread

from science in one way or another.
Most of these avocational scientists or
amateurs are educating themselves in
many branches of scientific knowledge;
a major portion of them are leamii^
scientific techniques. A great many are
recording facts and compiling data
which will be useful to professional
scientists. A few are makiiig original
contributions to knowledge.

Concrete examples of amateur aid to
science come readily to mind. Among
these, the work of ^e amateur astrono-
mers has deservedly attracted attention,
while the collective efforts of the Society
of Variable Star Observers, a selected
group of these amateurs, has a high
ranking in original investigation. We
may mention, also, the amateur bota-
nists, entomologists, geologists, mineralo-
gists and soologists, who, here and there,
have advanced knowledge throughout
the land by making collections and
recording data on the distribution, ecol-
ogy and life-histories of plants and ani-
mals. Although the volunteer observers,
stationed throughout the country assist-
ing the United States Weather Bureau
in keeping records, are essentially com-
pilers, they are amateur scientists. In a
similar category are the bird students
whose check-lists of species are invalu-
able records and whose work in banding
aids specialists in probing the msrsteries
of migration. In far smaller numbers
occur the amateur chemists and physi-
cists, but these devotees are none the less
represented. On the other hand, in the
many branches of the applied and social
sciences such divisions as agricnltare,

AMATEUB SCIENTISTS

hortiealtare, aroheologjr, aviation, eco-
nomics, history, mechanics, photography
and radio can claim hosts of leisure-
time enthusiasts. In numerous cases the
skills and abilities of these amateurs are
pronounced, so much so that important
contributions have resulted from their
efforts. To specify but two examples,
one can point to the rapid developments
in color photography and radio which
are achievements for which amateur ex-
perimenters are given much credit.
Very appropriately. Dr. Edwin G.
Conklin has said, “Some of the best
work ever done in science has been by
amateurs and the spirit which has led
them on has been the spirit of adven-
ture and discovery. ... It is essential
for the normal development of human
beings that this spirit should be culti-
vated and it is highly important for the
development of science itself.”^

Apart from the contribution of ama-
teurs to the advancement of science lie
other reasons why professionals, as well
as the public at large, should ponder
upon the significant role which may be
played by these laymen. Science, to-
day, has many more social implications
than it had in the past. People whose
everyday lives are materially improved
by the discoveries and applications of
science often feel they have a duty to
acquire a general understanding of it.
Furthermore, the future of research is
a matter closely concerned with the atti-
tude toward science held by the man in
the street It is quite likely that in the
future, financial aid for original inves-
tigation will come less from private and
semi-private sources in the form of en-
dowments for scientific and academic
institutions and more from the public in
the form of taxes. On this account if
for no other reason, the general public
will need to know more about science

* E. G. Oonklii^ " AetlvltiM ia Selenee in the
PhiladS^^ila Area.*' A eirenlar of inf onnation.
Amarlean Philosophleal Society. Oetober, 1080.
Ko. 1.

and the scientific method.* Is^men of
all types, who have gained praotical ex- .
perience in some scientific specialty such
as the cdlection and dassification of
insects, or, let us say, the construction
and use of a telescope, would certunly
tend to have a more intelligent compre-
hension of science, both in fact and in
method, than individuals limited to
sporadic reading or forgotten school and
college courses. At the same time, the
person with a scientific hobby can be an
interpreter of technical subjects to his
neighbor. He can serve as a liaison be-
tween the research scientist and the
common man in diffusing the spirit of
science. It is this spirit of the scientific
method that, above all things, must be
imparted. It shows itself in the esti-
mating of evidence, in the training in
facts rather than fancies and in the use
of the trial-and-error method of think-
ing. For every one to-day, nothing is
more needed.

To popularize science in the best
sense is a difficult task. Lately, consid-
erable thought has been directed to this
problem. A survey made in 1984 by Dr.
Benjamin C. Qruenberg revealed the
startling fact that of all the offerings in
adult education only from five to six
per cent, were in fiel^ of science.* Here
was one factor to account for public
ignorance, namely, the lack of opportu-
nity for learning about science. The
situation evoked the question as to what
suitable means might be used to bridge
the gap between science and the public.
Were formal educational methods, such
as books and courses the only way, or
might there, perhaps, be other avenues
of approach T

In order to make a specific experiment
testing the possibilities of amateur edu-
cation in science in a limited area. Dr.

* Mone A. Oartwriglit, Jwr. of Adeit XduM-
tim 11: 8, June, 1080. p. 886.

• Benjamin 0. Gmenberg, < 'Selenee and fbe
Public Hind," p. Idl. MeOnw-Hill, N. T.,
1086.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Frederick P. Eeppri, president of the
Carnegie Corporation of New York, re*
quested the American Philosophical
Society to undertake a survey and pro-
gram of action through a special com-
mittee of its members* This Committee
on Education and Participation in
Science, composed, for the most part, of
research scientists distinguished in their
fields, were members of the society and
outlined the policy of the program. The
group consisted of the following: Dr.
Edwin G. Conklin, chairman, Drs.
Anton J. Carlson, Earl E. Darrow,
Luther P. Eisenhart, C- F. Eenneth
Mees, Oscar Biddle, Harlow Shapley,
George G. Simpson, W. F. G. Swann,
Edward L. Thorndike, Harold C. Urey
and Roland S. Morris, ex-officio. The
project, inaugurated in June, 1939, was
not only directed toward amateur scien-
tists but emphasised the actual partici-
pation of these persons in scientific
activities. An area within 30 miles of
Philadelphia was chosen for study. The
result of the findings of this Committee
on Education and Participation in
Science, operating with an executive
staff of scientific consultants, was to in-
augurate a series of volunteer prograpis
to test the effectiveness of amateur
efforts, both as self-education and as an
aid to science. However, the aim of this
article is to reveal and interpret some
of the data concerning the whole sub-
ject of the amateur and amateur science.
First, the characteristics and interests of
the former will be disqussed; and, sec-
ond, there will be examined the organi-
zations which have bemi formed to
accomplish the multiple aims of recrea-
tion, self-education and original
search. Although the data used were
obtained in the Philadelphia area, it is
believed that the facts will serve to rep-
resent other regions as well.

* Frederick P, Keppel, '‘Besponeibillty of
Fndowinente in the Promotion of Knowledge,”
Amerieen Philosophical Society, Prooeedinps,
VoL 77, No. 4.

The Ajcatbob SomNnsi

There are not a few reasons why the
general public should be rather vitally
concerned with increasing its under-
standing of natural phenomena as well
as acquainting itself with the various
sciences applying to our universe. The
rising educational level, manifested in
part 'by the growing number of high-
school and college graduates throughout
the country, together with a greater dif-
fusion of general information through
print, motion pictures and the radio, are
infiuences leading to a greater alertness
of our people. One specific indication
of this fact is the growing desire of some
individuals to learn more about their
environment and to enjoy it intelli-
gently. City populations, thanks to the
bicyde and automobile, are not re-
stricted to their urban background.
They can move cheaply and quickly to
the out-of-doors. Combined with shorter
working days and longer vacations,
these factors increase the range for
action in one’s leisure-time. 'We see
evidences of these influences in the hik-
ing and camping fervor which sends
annually into the mountains and wood-
lands hundreds and thousands of young
and old persons and, again, in the
broadening influence of gardening on
great numbers of dwellers in the suburbs
and in the growing desire to know more
about and to protect wild life. All
these tendencies relate closely to an in-
quiring attitude toward the sciences
upon which forestry, biology, horticul-
ture and conservation are based. Imme-
diately coxmected with the apiflied
sciences are the daily interests of per-
sotts in the machinery and gadgets whidi
are interwoven with our modem living.
The mechanical precision and technical
proficient^ of the automobile and air:
plane engine, the radio set and the cam-
era have captured the i m aginations of
hosts of laymen who wish to know more
about mechanisms and their functions.

AMATEUE SCIENTISTS

Snob curiosity often leads to the sciences
lying behind these inTcntions.

Who, then, is the genuine amateur
scientist t For our purposes, he, or she,
is the one seriously enough interested to
participate in some activity in science
as a leisure-time pursuit. First of all,
he follows his hobby for the sheer joy
he derives from it, but that hobby, gen-
erally speaking, represents a sustained
and, often, consuming interest. There
is frequently an esthetic and intellectual
appeal. Second, it is an interest which
involves self-learning and self-improve-
ment in most cases. In this respect it
is more than a mere pastime. The
means of learning about a subject and
mastering it by the hobbyist may be
conventional or they may be self-devised
and ingenious. One interesting point
to consider is that so many amateur pur-
suits in science involve the use of both
hand and brain. Furthermore, almost
all amateurs who have advanced in their
fields of science have perfected some skill
or technique. Finally, and third in the
list of characteristics of scientific ama-
teurs is the desire on the part of the
more advanced of them to do original
work or investigation which will add to
the sum total of knowledge.

To supplement and clarify such state-
ments as the foregoing it may be helpful
to supply some detailed information.
Ai part of the committee’s preliminary
study, a survey was made of a selected
group of 800 adult men and women who
had active interests in science. These
persons were interviewed by the writer
through the means of a questionnaire,
filled out at twelve different meetings
held by amateur dubs and societies,
adult night schools, institutes and mu-
seums.* The individual tastes of these
persons showed a wide diversity. The
twenty-dght different fidds of science

*W. SteiAm .Xhomai, OommlttM on Sdnea-
tiOB sad Paxtieipatim in Beieaee, Amerlcaa
Pb&osopUeal Sodety, Progrew Bsport No. S,
Nobniaiy 88, 1840, p. 0 (niq>iiblidied).

which were indicated as holding interest
are as follows :

anthropology

arebeology

astronomy

aviation

bio-ehemistry

botany

ehemistry

embryology

entomology

flsh eulturo

general natural history
general seienee
geology
geognqihy

bortienltnre
mathematics
medidne and pnhlio
health
metallurgy
meteorology
mieroseopy
mineralogy
oceanography
ornithology
photograph
physics
psychology
radio
soology

Now, it will be seen that these hobby-
ists are not only the amateur astronomers
who grind lenses or are the banders
of birds, but, also, the gardeners, radio
operators, f^ culturists and many
others who, in the course of their recrea-
tion, follow bypaths inevitably leading
to scientific inquiry. Many individual
cases may be cited demonstrating how
intelligent curiosity may bring about
worthwhile results in the form of a per-
manent and active interest in a subject.
There is the actual instance of the city-
dwelling insurance salesman who, on a
country walk, wondered about the in-
dination of bees for certain types of
pollen. This curiosity induced him to
become not only a skilled apiarist but a
student of cross-fertilization in flower-
ing plants. Other real cases are the rail-
road lampman who carries on experi-
ments in physics and the real estate
broker whose daily route through a mid-
dty park resulted in his becoming an
authority on bird migration in his
territory.

In making this analysis, there are
some additional and pertinent facts re-
vealed by the committee’s study which
are worth mentioning. One of these is
the average age of the partidpants. Out
of the 266 persons who reported their
age, the mean was 86.5 years, and of
the whole group of 800, 64 per cent.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

yrete men and 86 per cent were women.
The survey also revealed some interest*
ing points concerning the amateur as a
human being. That the average repre-
sentative leads a well-balanced life seems
to be indicated by the non-scientifio in-
terests listed. Becreations varying from
golf and tennis to bridge playing and
kxiitting were often mentioned.

As for the daily occupations of these
people, 91 per cent, were employed and
9 per cent, were not regularly employed,
but of these, at least half were either in
the leisure class or had retired because
of age. In the midst of the present sit-
uation of wide-spread unemployment in
many fields, this last factor is an inter-
esting commentary. In all, some 77
different occupations were represented
by these science-minded laymen and lay-
women. Twenty-one per cent, of the
total, or 64 persons, followed some of
the professions, being engaged in engi-
neering, law, medicine, the ministry or
teaching. Seventeen per cent, were oc-
cupied in business or office work of the
white-collar type. Fifteen per cent,
were skilled workers, including me-
chanics (3), printers (4), patternmak-
ers (3), brick masons (2), a wood
carver, a wool dresser, a plasterer, a
carpenter, a postman, a police sergeant
and a restaurant counterman, to men-
tion a few of the various callings.
Students made up 9 per cent, of the
total number, but the majority of these
seemed to have interests in science aside
from their studies. And, finally, 6 per
cent, were scientific workers or technolo-
gists, including one astronomer, nine
chemists, a pharmacist, a photo-mechanic
and a mineralogist.

Austeur Scientific Obganizstions m
A Metropolitan CoiciniNmr

A desire to share one’s interests with
a group of congenial persons is often
manifest among amateur scientists.
This tendency is particularly shown by

persons in the beginning stages el •
hobby. Sometimes, if sufficiently ad-
vanced, the amateur later becomes a con-
firmed individualist and avoids a group.
But, generally speaking, the club spirit
prevails. It is, also, an incentive to pro-
ductive amateur work. Dr. H. L.
Hawkins writes of a similar situation
in fespect to amateur scientists in
Great Britain:

Sociability is, howevor, the key to the sneeess
and almost a roisoa d’etre of a local (amateni
sdentifle) society. Unless this is an association
of friends, it belies the name and loses its ef-
ficiency. It is not in the academic eminence of
its members, but in the spirit of cooperation
and enjoyment that the value of the society
lies. . . .*

The selected amateurs, interviewed in
connection vrith the Philadelphia survey,
showed the important part which or-
ganisations play in stimulating and
promoting interest Forty-nine per
cent of the whole group questioned
belonged to one or more amateur dubs,
while 41 per omit, expressed a desire to
join one or more additional organiza-
tions, despite the fact some of them were
already members of groups. Several of
these last-mentioned persons stated
their wish to become members of dubs
in fidds in which no amateur organiza-
tions now exist in their locality. These
fidds were anthropdogy, chemistry,
metallurgy, meteordi^ and psychology.

It was precisely because of the impor-
tance of the amateur scientific organiza-
tion and its role in creating a wider
understanding of science that the Amer-
ican Philosophical Sodety’s committee,
through its executive staff, made an in-
tensive study of the groups in the Phila-
ddphia region. They found here 287
dubs and societies, representing a total
of 32,000 mmnbers, which, in the broad-
est sense, were concerned with the
sciences. These organizations may be
divided into two main groups. First,

• H. L. HstfUiia, Sot&iue, SO: S884, SfiS,
September 28, 1982.

AMATEUR SdENnSTS

thCNM with interests strictly in the pure
seimces and these include the amateur
astronomers, botanists, chemists, ento-
mologists, microscopists, etc. There
were approximately forty of these ; and,
second, a much larger division of more
general scope. Under this category are
placed the members of garden clubs, the
aviation hobbyists, the amateur photog-
raphers with 85 separate clubs, the radio
amateurs (1,700 licensed operators)
and, lastly, a very large body of hunters
and fishermen.'

While viewing the picture of amateur
groups in and around Philadelphia, the
third largest city in the United States,
it seems worthwhile to touch, for a mo-
ment, on the significant background of
this metropolis as a center for research
and education in science. In colonial
days medical teaching and practice
gained an early foothold in the city.
The University of Pennsylvania, the
Library Company and the American
Philosophical Society, all founded in
the early eighteenth century, were other
factors contributing toward making the
city a focal center of learning. The last-
named institution, with an intercolonial
membership for promoting useful knowl-
edge, was an especially potent force.
In its early years it was virtually an
amateur group and played a leading role
in stimulating that spirit in the sciences.
Residents of the city, frequently law-
yers, ministers, merchants and often
physicians, showed a bent for the physi-
cal and natural sciences as diversions.
Prominent among them were figures like
Benjamin Franklin, with his experi-
ments in electricity; David Rittenhouse,
clockmaker, and the Reverend J(dui
Swing, a minister, both eminent con-
tributors to astrmiomy; John Bertram
and his son, William, among the earliest
botanical students in America; and the
physicians, fobn Morgan, Benjamin

' Begport of OomsilttM oa Bdneatlon and Pax*
tidpstloa in Sdeaea, 1989. Yearbook of Aaur*
loan j^oaopbieal Boelety, 1989, pp, 868-864.

Rush and Casper Wistar, who had inter-
ests in a number of the sciences.

Another iafluenoe for such activity’
was the Quaker attitude. Members* of
the Society of Friends often crowed
strong leanings toward the sciences as
recreational pursuits. With art, music
and dancing frowned upon as worldly
pastimes, activities of a scholarly tyx>e,
such as archeology, bird study, botany
and horticulture, were undoubtedly
welcome as esthetic and intellectual out-
lets. Leading Quakers who distin-
guished themselves in these fields were
the Bartrams, already mentioned, James
Pemberton, merchant and philanthro-
pist, who collected materials on the
Indians, Thomas Say, the entomologist
and zoologist, and William Darlington,
the botanist, to mention but a few.*

In the first quarter of the nineteenth
century a strong influence toward popu-
lar diffusion of science in the vicinity
of Philadelphia gave rise to several
academies and institutes which were
established and supported chiei^ by lay-
men. The oldest of these is the Academy
of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia,
founded in 1812 entirely as an amateur
venture. It was started by two manu-
facturers, two physicians, a dentist, a
chemist and an apothecary. For most
of the years of its existence the academy
has had afSliated with it America’s lead-
ers in descriptive biology and the earth
sciences. The academy to-day is impor-
tant as the meeting place of ten active
amateur scientific societies, representing
a membership of over 1,800 per8<ms.
Nearby is the Franklin Institute,
founded in 1824 for the study and pro-
motion of the mechanic arts and applied
sciences. At the present, its large mod-
em museum of hundreds of action-
exhibits cover the physical sciences and
graphic arts. These, together with the
Fels Planetarium and public observa-

• Boland S. Morris, 7As yrisnd, Phlladolsliia,
Pa., 118: 10, 178-174, November 1, 1989.

THE SCIBNTIPIO MONTHLY

tory, make it a natural center for ama-
teur interest with twelve such organisa-
tions meeting there.

The Wagner Free Institute of Science,
founded in 1847, on the other hand, is
the only institution in the city where
adults may attend free lecture courses
at night on chemistry, ph3rsics, engi-
neering, botany, geology, geography
and zoology. Three amateur dubs also
meet here. Further removed from the
city, in Media, county seat of Delaware
County, is the Delaware County Insti-
tute of Science. This unique institu-
tion, started in 1833, also bears testi-
mony to the spread of amateur interest
in science both in the past and to-day.
Here, under volunteer leaders, are en-
rolled men and women in autonomous
groups in geology, mineralogy, foreign
languages and other subjects. Other
museums in the Philadelphia community
available to amateurs scientifically in-
dined are the Commercial Museum and
the University of Pennsylvania Museum,
both notable in their specialties. The
former is devoted to exhibits of com-
merce and geography and carries on
educational services for the public
schools. It also provides a series of free
lectures for adults in geography and
travd. The University Museum, con-
cerned with archeology and ethnology,
conducts research in these fields and
maintains outstanding exhibits. It, too,
features a free lecture course. From
time to time, amateur archeologists and
ethnologists have worked as volunteers
on the stafl.

However, the institutes and museums
mentioned are not the only institutional
facilities in and around Philaddphia
available for stimulating amateur
science. In addition, there are extension
courses of colleg^, adult night schools
and other agendes. It must be noted,
though, that the science content of such
offerings is limited. The city is also rich
in library resources of the reference or

research lype. Thir^-eight of them
contain books in the general Adds of the
sdences. The Bibliographical Planning
Committee should bring about coopera-
tion for the most effective use of such
valuable resources.

Philaddphia possesses other instm-
men^ities for broadening interest and
knowledge in science. Its Fairmonnt
Park system, consisting of 39 different
tracts and areas, comprising a total of
3,838 acres, is the largest natural park
region within the boundaries of any
city. It offers innumerable opportuni-
ties for fidd studies in natural history.
Situated in Fairmount Park are the
Zoological Cardens, maintained by the
Philadelphia Zoological Society. It is
the oldest institution of its kind in the
United States with an important collec-
tion of animals, whereas its educational
program is broad and is an important
influence in the city for populariang
science. Also located in Fairmount
Park is the city-owned Aquarium and
the Horticultural Hall. In and about
the metropolis are a number of arboreta
and botanical gardens, public or semi-
public in function. Largest is the Mor-
ris Arboretum in Chestnut Hill, owned
and run by the University of Pennqrl-
vania. Finally, as a resource for soim-
tific education and research aie the seven
observatories in the Philaddphia district
accessible to amateurs. In all, there are
some 164 separate institutions or other
potential centers for amateur use. The
American Philosophical Society's com-
mittee is now preparing a guide to all
these.

Now, turning to those various dubs
and societies formed to meet the needs
of thousands of leisure-time sdentist%
we shall appreciate their function more
fully after having examined their back-
ground. The following statements are
based on analysis of 30 of the most active
groups devoM to the physical and nat-
ural sciences. By means of question-

AMATEUR SCIENTISTS

xuireB, Tisits to orgcanixatioiis and eon-
ferenees, the executive staff has compiled
this list. The executive staff consists of
Roger Conant, curator of the Philadel-
phia Zoological Garden, in zoology; Dr.
John M. Fogg, Jr., assistant professor
of botany of the University of Pennsyl-
vania, in botany; Dr. Serge A. Korff,
Bartol Research Foundation, in physics
and astronomy; Dr. Edward E. Wild-
man, of the Philadelphia Board of Pub-
lic Education, in education and general
science; and the executive secretary, W.
Stephen Thomas, formerly director of
education of the Academy of Natural
Sciences of Philadelphia. The follow-
ing amateur scientific organizations
which were studied, together with the
total number of members of each, as
reported late in 1989, are as follows:

Number

Organiaation of

Members

1. Aero Club of Philadelphia

2. Amateur Aetronomere of The

Franklin Institute

8. American Bntomologieal Society

4. American Meteor Society — (In

Philadelphia area)

5. Bird Club of Philadelphia

6. Botanical Society of Pennsylvania

7. Burhblme Bird Club

8. Comstock Society

9. Delaware County Institute of

Sdenee !

10, Delaware Valley Naturalists’

Union

11* Delaware Valley Ornithological

Club

12, Eastern Bird Banding Association
18, Fraakford Mineralogical Society...
14. Geographical Society of Philadel-
phia -

16, Junior Zoological Society

16, Leidy Microscopical Club

17, Naturalists’ Field Club (U, of P,)

18, Pennsylvania Fish Oulturists As-

sociation

19. Penniylvanla Forestry Association

80. Pennsylvania Parks Association ......

81, PeregHne Club

22, Piiiladelphia Botanical Club

28. Philadelphia Geological Society ....»

24. Philadelphia Mineralogical Boiktf

130

120

225

150

160

430

800

650

1,400

187

25. Philadelphia Natural History

^iociety* ................................ 4.6

26. Philadelphia Council of Camera

dubs 81

27. Bittenhouse Astronomical Society ... , 205

28. Society of Natural History of

Delaware 126

29. West Chester Bird dub 60

80. Wissahickon Bird dub 104

Total Membership 3,899

With but one exception (the Phila-
delphia Geological Society whose mem-
bership is semi-professional) this list
includes amateur groups. For that
reason, professional and academic or-
ganizations were not considered in this
study, though records and statistics
concerning them have been gathered by
the committee. Illustrations of the pro-
fessional type are such well-known
bodies as the American Association for
the Advancement of Science, American
Association of Scientific Workers, Amer-
ican Institute of Chemists, American
Chemical Society (Philadelphia section),
Pennsylvania Chemical Society, Ameri-
can Gem Society and many others.
These would not exclude teachers' or-
ganizations, clubs and seminars formed
in aMiation with the scientific depart-
ments of colleges and universities. But
all of them are, or should be, interested
in amateur scientific endeavor and
should be of potential service in giving
advice and, where possible, should pro-
vide leadership.

In turning to the analysis of the
selected organizations grouped above, a
prime concern of the committee was to
discover the causes motivating the or-
ganizing of these bodies. Scrutiny of
their constitutions showed that the ex-
pressions “to promote interest” in one
subject or “to diffuse knowledge” of
another were most frequently used.
Actual count revealed that 67 per cent,
of the thirty clubs considered education
of the members and of the public at
large as their chief aim. On the other
hand, 80 per cent, indicated that orig-

THE SCIENTmO MONTHLY

iual mTestigations in the fields of seienoe
concerned came first in the interest of
the group. Several organisations ex-
pressed this purpose as “the improve-
ment and advancement” of their subject
through original research. Only 8 per
cent, seemed to put any emphasis on the
social features of their meetings.

Activities of the thirty amateur clubs
and societies studied fall into eleven
different classes. The number of dubs
engaged in these activities is shown in
the following table :

1. Meetings 29

2. Beports by members 28

3. Lectures and talks hj guest

speakers 29

4. Demonstrations, ind. use of pic-
tures, specimens, apparatus 28

5. Maintenance of scientific collections 12

6. Field trips 25

7. Keeping records 19

8. Publications 12

9« Maintaining library 12

10. Exhibitions 11

11. Owning laboratory or apparatus — 1

Any analysis of the sort attempted by
the committee would have lacked some
worth had it failed to reveal the actual
part taken by members in the activities
of their respective organisations. This
part of the study, based on figures of
attendance at meetings, participation in
discussion, the makitig of reports and
the attendance on field trips and in
other functions, varied to a marked de-
gree. In one instance only 3 per cent,
of the membership took part, whereas
in two other bodies, each small and selec-
tive, almost 100 per cent, of the mem-
bers participated in amateur activities.
However, the average participation for
the total number of thirty groups was
47.2 per cent.

Another important fact brought out
by the survey was that 85 per cent, of
the membership of these clubs and socie-
ties in the course of their recreation in
science utilized some form of skill or
technique. These techniques varied

from the ability to identii^, dassify and
prepare many typea <ff organic or inor-
ganic material to the conslxuction and
manipulation of apparatus and instru-
ments. The latter included cameras,
microscopes, telescopes, radio instru-
ments and even airplanes.

As the effectivmiess of moat profes-
sional scientific research depends upon
its availability for use through publica-
tion, BO, also, in amateur endeavw,
publication of original observatimis,
records and other data is a prominent
factor. As noted before, 12 dubs, or 88
per cent, issued their own publications,
though only 23 per cent of the total
membership actually saw their material
in print The publications ranged from
creditable scientific periodlcalB, often
with professional sdentists such as mu-
seum staff members as editors, to more
ephemeral bulletins and newdetters in
mimeographed form. But it must be
pointed out that these latter served as
a medium for stimulating interest and
spreading education among the mem-
bers.

Although, as was previoudy indi-
cated, approximatdy 80 per cent of the
various amateur groups emphasised piue
research, it is to be remarked that the
minutes, publications and other records
of the organizations, as well as the scien-
tific collections which are in many cases
assembled, represent material of possible
use in the promotion of knowledge. Es-
pecially does this fact apply to the nat-
ural sciences in which dm seasond
variations in fauna and flora are re-
corded by fidd observers who may be
amateur bird students, botanists, ento-
mologists or the like. H. L. Hawkins,
already quoted, wrote in this eonnectim
regarding amateur groups in Great
Britain:

la the matter of research, the greatect eoatri-
button (other than eaeonragemeat) that eaa be
made by sdeatlfle aeeletics emaes from their
ability to bmp, Cheek, aad pablUh records of

AMATEUB SCIENTISTS

tnuMient pb«iioiiieiuu Sverj recurrent eeaeonal
event in nature invitee and often receives ac-
curate obeervation. • * . In such work the soci-
ety as distinct from the individual has a special
value; for records without independent confir-
mation are of uncertain use. • . >

One fnndamental disclosare of the
Philadelphia study was the information
concerning the needs of the various
organisations in advancing the interests
of their members and in promoting and
diffusing science. In the course of its
survey, the committee found that, al-
though a majority of the groups seemed
adequately organized for their own pur-
poses, 56 per cent, of the total would
profit by outside help and cooperation.
More specifically, there was a need for
coordinating programs and activities,
ezohangpng speakers and increasing
membership. Also desirable was more
varied program material, such as dem-
onstrations of scientific work and the
provision of more visual aids in the form
of good motion pictures and colored
slides. Lastly, there was need to further
the original work of members. Sixty per
cent, of the organizations expressed the
immediate need of new members. Sev-
eral of the groups gave evidence that if
new membership were not secured, it
was doubtful if the club or society would
long survive.

Several of the groups, more especially
those in general natural history, showed
a record of more pronounced activity
thirty or forty years ago than to-day,
with a decided falling off of interest and
participation in the last ten years. The
situation, however, did not apply to
individual amateur naturalists working
on their own. An interesting com-
mentary on this condition is the fact
that between 1900 and 1920, in the
Philadelphia area, there were reported
to be some thirty small but active ama-
teur microscopical study dubs. To-day,
there are but two. Twenty years ago,
there existed in the region five organi-

■ Op. eit., p. MS.

zations, each with several hundred
members, devoted to the stu^ and etd-
ture of aquarium fishes. At the present
time, the Pennsylvania Fish Cnltnrists
Association is the sole representative (ff
this once flourishing amateur interest.
Equally significant, though, has been the
growth of interest in astronomy and
bird study, while in the applied sciences
activity in photography and radio opera-
tion has accderated tremendously in the
last decade.

In examining the effectiveness of the
divers bodies for stimulating amateur
science, it was found that the most suc-
cessful organizations were those which
possessed within their ranks one or more
scientifically qualified leaders. These
moving spirits were not only experts in
their subjects but delighted in working
with those less informed and had the
ability to interpret technicalities in a
popular but accurate manner. In this
connection, it can be pointed out that
some relation with science in its profes-
sional aspects has proved continuously
healthy for amateurs. That the meeting
places of a number of the groups are
placed in museums and similar centers
has undoubtedly been one of the reasons
why amateur science has flourished, not
only in Philadelphia but in other com-
munities. The easy access to scientists
on academic and museum staffs and the
availability of research material in the
form of books and collections has done
much to spur on the layman to contrib-
ute to the accumulation of scientific
knowledge. Such relationships need to
be strengthened and perpetuated. One
means for bringing about this situation
would be the formation of informal
councils or advisory groups for each of
the clubs seriouidy concerned with
science to which qualified professional
leaders would be willing to contribute
advice and other assistanoe.

An immediate reaction to the ques-
tionnaires sent out by the committee and

THE SCIENTmO MONTHLY

the Tisits of its staff was the favorable
attitude toward mutual cooperation.
Tangible evidence of this feeling was the
spontaneous movement for a council or
affiliation of all the various scientific
bodies within a thirty-mile radius of
Philadelphia. Such an afiUiation, semi-
professional in nature, has existed in
New York City as the New York Acad-
emy of Sciences and Affiliated Societies.
Two other such councils have just been
organized in Buffalo and Rochester,
N. Y. In Philadelphia, a meeting of
thirty delegates from twenty-five groups
included in the survey held a meeting
which appointed an organizing commit-
tee. The latter, in the spring of 1940,
formally launched the Philadelphia
Council of Amateur Scientists. This
council pledged itself to act as a clearing-
house for information, to coordinate the
purposes and activities of the groups, to
increase membership, exchange program
material and to bridge the gap between
science and the public.

In reviewing the role of amateur scien-
tific organizations, one further consid-
eration is not to be neglected. All these
aggregates of leisure-time scientists,^ fol-
lowing many different branches of inter-
est, have an important link with their
immediate community. They represent
groups organized for the mixed ptirposes
of recreation, education and the promo-
tion of knowledge. Ip this sense they
are social agencies. They have, for that
reason, a potential relatioxuhip to other
local groups and organizations. It can
readily be seen how schools and general
educational bodies and these amateurs
might work together to mutual advan-
tage. An instance of this appears in the
effective work which might be done with

the large number of seianoe dubs in the
elementary and high schools, both public
and private. These small dubs provide
means for intelligent recreation after
school hours, for they allow young
people to learn about science by Tn«iniig
experiments, collecting specimens and
data and c<mstrueting apparatus. Adult
dubs could aid, from time to tune, by
furnishing speakers and leaders and by
affording stimulation through other
means. On the other hand, these
younger groups possess members who, at
a later date, will be highly qualified to
join the older organizations. This might
be a possible solution to the dwindling
membership in some of the adult groups.
Another instance of future cooperation
exists in the situation regarding the
adult evening schools, fiourishing in
suburban communities around Philadd-
phia as well as in other localities. These
self -organized schools for laymen are in
need of practical courses and demonstra-
tions in the pure sciences. But profes-
sional sources do not seem adequate to
supply material and teaching personnd.
Here is a case where local scientific dubs
could provide enriched programs and
leaders for teaching science and stimu-
lating scientific activities and hobbies
among the public. Also, in the fidd of
recreation, such agencies as Boy and
Girl Scouts and social welfare groups
need trained leaders to supervise nature
study, photography, gardening and
many other branches which are forms
of amateur science. Lastly, the ama-
teur groups, each in its own locality, can
serve as important interpreters of
science not only through many formal
educational means but through the
example of their individual members.

UNIFYING SCIENCE IN A DISUNIFIED WORLD

Prepared for the International Institnte for the Unity of Science

by M. B. Singer and A. Kaplan

Thk first week of the European war
coincided with the convening of an in-
ternational group of distinguished scien-
tists and philosophers to participate in
the Fifth International Congress for the
Unity of Science held at Harvard Univer-
sity. That forces for unification should
be called out by a world in which dis-
unification is wide-spread is not without
historical parallel. Welcoming the two
hundred delegates from nine countries,
President Conant of Harvard called at-
tention to the similar circumstances un-
der which the Boyal Society of England
was founded three centuries ago **in a
period of civil and religiooB strife. ’ ’ And
to-day the scientist is even more closely
concerned with the world around him,
for science is frequently blamed and
oriticiaed for the part it allegedly played
in brix^ing about the contemporary
chaos.

The discussions at the congress ex-
hibited the activities of the unity of sci-
ence movement as proceeding simulta-
neously along three fronts : first, the co-
ordination of the special sciences with
one another through a coordination of
the concepts and principles of the differ-
ent sciences; second, making available
the results of such unification for more
efScient application of various sciences to
the solution of practical problems in engi-
neering, agriculture and medicine ; third,
applying the content, method and out-
look of science to formal and adult edu-
cation.

The last two phases were given spe-
cial emphasis at the congress because of
the influence American pragmatists and
operatimmlists have had on the move-

ment as a whole. This influence was ex-
plicitly acknowledged at the Harvard
Congress by a paper commemorating the
centenary of the birth of Charles Peirce,
the founder of American pragmatism,
and by an appreciative letter to John
Dewey in honor of his eightieth birthday.
The international movement, however,
owes its origins to two groups of philoso-
phers and scientists who met informally
in pre-Hitler Berlin and Vienna to dis-
cuss the works of Ernst Mach, Bertrand
Bussell and Ludwig Wittgenstein. Since
that time, the voluntary or forced expa-
triation of many of the Germans and Aus-
trians has minimized the importance of
geographical boundaries in the movement.

Although it is scarcely five years since
it was officially organized, the Intema-
tioiml Institute for the Unity of Science
is fast becoming responsible for a major
movement in the scientific world. The
Harvard meeting was held under the
q>onsor8hip of the American Association
for the Advancement of Science, the
American Philosophical Association, the
Philosophy of Science Association, the
History of Science Society and ^e Asso-
ciation for Symbolic Logic. The last
two organizations, sharing members and
interests with the institute, held joint
sessions with the congress proper.

In the investigation of scientific method
the unity of science movement has set
itself the task of constructing, with the
help of mathematics and symbolic logic,
the skeleton of an exact language in
which the logical connections of terms
and laws of the different sciences could
be precisely expressed. One of the inno-
vations of the Harvard Congress was

V-^.'T

0# tli^ idoilt iKsi^ttKM "^iii
gh^ tt utttetioii as of
Iii^ika! Mitem

; 1!%e Humud CSongnn was alao uaiqM
Jin anliating tba interei^ and aotiro oo»
aperatioa of piaotieal teobiuoiaiM to dia-
' 0088 the applied and aooial aspeeta of
aeienoe. At the two eeaaione devoted to
this iRibjeot papoa were read V P^ro-
feadonal engineata and a repreaentativa
of the U. S. t>aP>rtment of Agrionltore.
The diaeoaaiona in thia field were ex*
ifioiatoiT in x^atore and inaognrated
eomideration of problema in the biatory
and aoeiology of aeienee idtioh will on*
doobtedly aaaome inoreaaing importanoe
hi the ptoooM of imifjrihg the adeneea.

> Of moat aignifieanoe to the gmeral
pifiiUc are the implioationa of the onity
of aeienee for edneation. Theae were
partly traced ih a paper hy an edneator
urging' that moeh of ^.present aimleoa-
neaa and inooherence in American edu*
cation ooold he eliminated witboirt.im-
poaing doetrinaire regimmtation util-
kiag the reaooroea of the nni^ of aeienee
movemait, and partieolarly hy introdoe-
ing into aoientoSe eorrieola, even at high-
•ohod and dementaxy levela, a atody of
the hiatory and logic of aeienee. ^

For many memhara of the oongreaa,
eqMcially for Dr. Otto Neorath, Ita
permanent aecretary, theae implioationa
reaeh beyond the daaaroom. He and
hia aaaoeiatea in the unity of aeienee
movemmit want to dSaaeminate a aeien-
tifie outlodc among all^ literate a^ta.
Oura ia a aeientifie age and almost every
one haa some notion of what aeienee ia
about. But the frequent miainterpretar
tiona and unwarranted extrapolationa of
aeientifie findinga promulgate by care*
leaa or inoompetttit popularisations have
created the important and difBeult fune-
tion of interpreting the reanlta add meth*

' j'

hiyp«£^
dm eaaentfal alaini in fibs uitfeiRamua
of tide fnnetion is to toterpret tiki leeh*
nioal language of the aeiencea hi tocdto
of every day language. Aa Dr. Naomiai
formulatea tiiia teak: it ahotdd he poa>
aiblg to tmalato Bintoshi’a titeory
relativity into a toad driver's vemacear.
The wmrk that has nbea^ hean done on
the strueture of aeientifie language ^tMkea
tide a fav leas quixotic objective than
pears at first sight Togetiier with the
pietorid tedmiqnes for preaenting ata*
tistieal data (Iso^fM), to vdiieh 2^.
Neurath haa idao nmde important eon*
tributiona, thia wwk offers vivid and
aeeurate tools to the adult edueatiem
movement

To prmnote this and the otiier phaaea
of its activities the International Insti>
tnte for the Unity of Soienee lafidB an*
nual oongreoaes, publitiies a /owfual cf
VniiM BoMNce (W. P. Tan Stodhum
and 2!oon, Hdlaad; American agmts:
Unhraaify of CSiieago Press), diieota the
pnUieation of numograplm and botika
eontributing to the movement througdk
ita "LilNrary of Unified Seienee^" Add
haa just ini^ted a fsr-reaehuig project
of conatmeting an “Bneyokgw^ of
Unified ^enoe" (Univetoity of Chicago
Preaa), which will embody the prograa*
sive attainments of the movement
The unity of aeienoe movonent proin>
iaes to become a fit expreashm of tiho
twentieth*eentnry aeientiat's abeial eCn*
aeienee by promoting mutual ua^bns
standing among st^tirts, darityiag. tito
nature of 8eiattee-4>otii in ito^ gnd aa

a fotM in hllllSIl

poaaiUe mootb and aceunto tito^dda-
from the jnwfeeaional world of the sol*
entiet to the everytUy world of iCientiat

Iftimiaii AliluL

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

FOUNDERS OP CHEMISTRY^

Those who enjoyed Mr. Haynes’s
entertaining sketches of the pioneers of
American chemical industry, as they ap-
peared serially in “Chemical Indus-
tries,” have now the opportunity of re-
reading these interesting biographies in
attractive book form. After a prelimi-
nary sketch of the many-sided efforts of
John Winthrop, elr., to exploit the unde-
veloi>ed chemical resources of colonial
New England, the author passes over the
next century and a half in order to take
up the real program of his volume,
which is to give a vivid account of the
founders of some of the leading chemical
industries of the United States. These
founders in nearly all cases established
chemical dynasties M^hose histories
through several generations of family
control constitute the most interesting
feature of the present volume. Details
of business developments and transfers
are interspersed wdth an abundance of
anecdotal material so that the interest
of even the most casiial reader is well
sustained. The sketches of the Rosengar-
ten, Kdlbfleisch, Mapes, Grasselli, War-
ner, Klipstein and other chemical found-
ers all show similar traits of business
capacity and enterprise not only by
native sons of colonial ancestry but by
later immigrants of British, French,
Dutch, German and Italian origin. No
small part of the early developments in
American science and industry is due to
the transplanting of European ideas and
practices to the more stimulating en-
vironment of the new republic. The
book is recommended not only to chem-
ists and chemical manufacturers but to
those who are interested in the origins
of domestic industries and in the story
of human relations.

C. A. Browne

i Chemical Pioneers, By William Haynes.
lUuatrated. xvi + 288 pp. $2.80. 1939. D.

Van Nostraad Company.

FLOWERS OP THE DESERT^

Jaeger’s “Desert Wild Flowers*’
makes one want to pack up the old
flivver and start out to find the plants
he pictures. Jaeger interprets “flow-
ers” very broadly to include Pina and
Palm as well as Cactus and Gastilleja,
The book is in fact a flora of the South-
western Deserts, though the author de-
parts from the formal order of a flora
and dispenses with keys — which the re-
viewer would wish to have. But the
species are figured, mostly with draw-
ings which by lines or with simple
shading catch and portray the essential
features of the plants with unusual skill.
To these are added a few photographs
softly done on matte paper in a style at
times almost worthy of a Corot.

It is easy to see that Dr. Jaeger is a
teacher — ^though a zoologist rather than
a professed botanist — ^for he advises his
readers “to carry the book with them
into the desert along with a box of
colored pencils so that they may fill in
the colors directly from the flowers.
This if carefully done will not only
greatly increase the attractiveness of
one’s copy of the book but will also im-
press the plant more firmly on 'one’s
memory”; and the paper of the book
w'as in fact carefully chosen to take such
color. Few users, however, will have
either the patience or the skill necessary
to color the fine detail drawings success-
fully. It is so much easier in these days
to take Kodachromes far more accurate
than hand-colored prints. This leads the
reviewer to hope that the time is not far
distant when the cost of reproducing
pictures in color will come down to a
point where every such manual will be
illustrated in color. For a generation or
more Europe has had popular floras with
the flowers shown in color. Is it not

1 Desert Wild Flowers, By E. C. Jaeger. Il-
lustrated. 822 pj). $8.50. March, 1940. Stan-
ford University Press.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

time that America reached the same
stage f

Robert F. Griggs

THE MIND GROWS UP^

The present volume is the third edi-
tion but first English translation of a
well-known work on comparative devel-
opmental psychology, written from the
Gestalt point of view. The concept of
comparative development is taken as
fundamental, being illustrated by ge-
netic parallelisms of behavioral develop-
ment as observed from data in the fields
of child psychology, social and ethnopsy-
chology and anthropology, animal psy-
chology and psychopathology. The book
should be of especial concern to students
of these fields, as well as to those inter-
ested in a systematic psychological sci-
ence.

The author begins by contrasting the
“mechanistic^* and “organic** {Oestalt)
approaches to psychological phenomena.
The former term is used to denote any
analj'tic or reductionistic schema for be-
havior description, as found in various
forms of associationism, behaviorism or
other stimulus-response psychologies.
Werner cites the usual Gestalt argu-
ments against this approach, and adopts
the second or “organic** view, with its
emphasis upon the priority of totalities
or configurations. Werner *s position is
thus typical of the German Strukiur or
Oestalt psychology, with its historically
related movements of the Oestalt- or
Komplexqualitdt, the Personalistik and
the Oeisieswissenschaften, The central
tenet of these various movements is that
the study of mental patterns or Oestciten
should take precedence over the more
analytical study of elements, events or
stimulus-response coordinations. Thus
Werner states (p. 15) ;

1 domparative Psychology of Mental Develop-
meni. By Heine Werner. 610 pp. 1940.
Harper and Brothers*

Development cannot be symbolised by a eon-
tinaotts, mathematically conceived line, but rather
moat be thought of in the form of typical mental
patterns, with the relatively higher levels being
understood as innovationa emerging from the
lower.

Werner then reports extensive data
from child psychology, social psychology
and anthropology, animal psychology
and psychopathology, illustrating the
“primitive character’* of behavior in
each of these fields. The material is
classified as follows: (1) primitive sen-
sori-motor, perceptual and effective or-
ganization, (2) primitive imagery, (3)
primitive notions of time and space, (4)
primitive action, (5) primitive thought
processes. The author purports to find
the same structural principles of mental
organization to hold in the mental life
of children, “primitive** peoples, ani-
mals and schizophrenics. Primitive men-
tal life, in such cases, is held to be syn-
cretic, diffuse, indefinite, rigid and labile.
Animism, magic and synaesthesia are
three illustrative examples from differ-
ent fields. The course of mental (as well
as biological, c.g., neural) development
illustrates increasing differentiation, sub-
ordination of parts and hierarehization.
Increasing differentiation yields a “plu-
rality of mental levels,’* the genetically
higher levels being characterized as not
syncretic, but discrete; not diffuse, but
articulated; not indefinite, but definite;
not rigid, but flexible; not labile, but
stable.

Criticisms of the book can best be di-
rected against (1) the loose use of terms,
many of which can neither be opera-
tionally defined nor logically derived
from others capable of operational defi-
nition, and (2) the Gestalt bias and com-
plete disregard for other possibilities of
interpretation. Thus, for example, there
is no discussion whatever of the phenom-
ena of conditioning, and no use is made
of conditioned response principles in the
interpretation of the data. In feet, there

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

is no reference to conditioning in the
index, and no apparent reference to the
extensive work in this field in the other-
wise excellent bibliography of 751 items.
The obvious relevancy of conditioned
I’esponse principles to many if not most
of the data is illustrated by the following
passage, taken as a random illustration
from the discussion of ‘‘primitive ab-
straction’’ (p. 238) ;

Again, concrete abstraction accounts for many
verbal expressions for the qualities of objects
the adult names for which the chiid has yet to
learn. He may designate colors by naming
familiar objects which charactoristically exhibit
those colors. For example, a boy four and a
half years old is sorting color cards. Ho knows
only the names “red,’’ “blue,” “white,” and
“black.” Wlien asked for the name of the
yellow card he says, beaming with triumph:
“The mail box! ” (Australian mail boxes are
yellow.) According to Descoudres’ report there
are small children who designate “brown”
by “chocolate,” “white” by “chalk,” and
“blue” by “pon*box. ” This is concrete ab-
straction. The imagined objects and the colored
test cards together build up a configuration in
which color is the dominant quality-of-the*
whole.

Could Pavlov himself have furnished
better illustrations of conditioning 1 And
how much more precise and experimen-
tally verifiable than the configural inter-
pretation !

In spite of these serious limitations,
however, the volume remains an excel-
lent sourcebook of comparative develop-
mental material. There is also a much-
needed emphasis upon the relations be-
tw’een comparative developmental and
general experimental psychology. For
such methodological “insights” as well
as for the extensive source material, the
book should be read by every serious stu-
dent of human and animal behavior.

John P. Foley, Jb.

M£N AND STARS^

There is no other book on, or rather

^ Stars and Men* By Stephen A. lonides and
and Margaret L. lonides. Illustrated, xvii-f
460 pp. $4.00. 1939. Bobbs-Merrill.

relating to, astronomy similar to this
one. Instead of directly discussing what
has been learned about the universe
beyond this earth, it meanders leisurely
in and out of various subjects, some of
which at first thought might not appear
to be connected closely with the stars.
In these excursions the authors at times
are in the mythological days of Mesopo-
tamia or Egypt; at others, in the be-
ginnings of science in Greece or China;
at others, on the frontiers of profound
theories with New'ton and Einstein.

Although the authors wander widely,
their patlis are not aimless. Instead,
they have reulixed more fully than most
writers how^ completely the somewhat
austere franiew’orks of the astronomy of
the professional scientists has been
clothed by the ma.sses of men with thou-
sands of vague beliefs that together form
substantial mass philosophies. They
have WTitten not only of the stars but
much about men and their ideas of the
cosmos.

The style of the authors is clear, enter-
taining and often really delightful.
Many of their paragraphs are enriched
w^ith apt quotations from the writings
of authors ranging from Homer to Lewis
Carroll. Since they have limited their
discussions largely to such subjects as
the sea.sons, eclipses, constellations and
navigation, to subjects which have been
of interest since antiquity, many current
astronomical problems are only briefly
considered or omitted entirely. For ex-
ample, the nature of the stars and the
structure of the galaxy are touched
rather lightly, though quite clearly and
correctly. Extended expositions of what
is known about Such things would be
severe and quite out of harmony with
leisurely and friendly descriptions of
familiar objects and of ideas mellowed
by age.

“Stars and Men” is an excellent book
and is deserving of a wide circulation.

P. R. M.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

HAMS Z1MS8KB

PBOrnsSOB of BACTBKIOLOOT AXD IMUUMOUMT, HABVAXO XIDICAIi BOHOOL, WHO MID OM BIPTKM*

BIB 4, 1B40, AT-TFBI AOl OF 61 TEARS.

The death of Hans Zinsser leaves
many voids in the intellectual life of
to-day. He was a disting:uished scien-
tist, an important commentator on medi-
cal education, a soldier and expert in
military sanitation, an author and poet
of f^reat ability and popular appeal.

Reared in a family of great cultural
attainments, his early education was
somewhat unorthodox, but it gave him
a substantial training in and an abiding
love for music, art and literature. Many
trips abroad (over twenty before his
formal education was completed) and
subsequent travels in pursuit of profes-
sional interests and duties in many coun-
tries — Germany, Prance, Serbia, Africa,
Russia, Mexico and China — ^made him,
because of his humanism, a true cos-
mopolite.

Until the summer of 1938 when the
symptoms of his illness became appar-
ent, his physical vigor and endurance
had been great and showed no effect of
age; his intellectual powers remained
unimpaired to the end. We may only
speculate over the possibilities of pro-
ductivity in many directions which dis-
appeared when that matured combina-
tion of great experience and a many-
facetted brilliant mind ceased to operate.

He was born on November 17, 1878.
He received his A.B. degree in 1899 ; his
A.M. and M.D. degrees in 1903 — all from
Columbia University. Honorary Sc.D.
degrees came from Columbiia in 1928,
Western Reserve in 1931, Lehigh in 1933
and from Harvard and Yale in 1939.
He was, in turn, professor of bac-
teriology and immunology at Stanford
University, 1910-1913, Columbia Uni-
versity, 1913-1923, and Harvard Uni-
versity, 1923-1940.

He accompanied the American Red
Cross Sanitary Commission to Serbia in
1915, as bacteriologist. He served in
the United States Army Medical Corps,
attaining the rank of colonel, from 1917

He was sanitary commissioner
for the League of Nations to Russia in
1923. He was exchange professor from
Harvard to the University of Paris in
1935, and to Peiping University in 1938.
He was a member of 36 scientific socie-
ties, including the Association of Ameri-
can Physicians, American Philosophical
Society, American Academy of Arts and
Sciences and the National Academy of
Sciences. His decorations were — Distin-
guished Service Medal, U. S. A. ; legion
d^Honneur, Prance; Order of St. Sava,
Serbia.

Dr. Zinsser’s scientific work was
almost wholly in the field of immunology
and his researches have contributed
many important elements to the struc-
ture of that science as it stands to-day.
He was a bold and versatile investigator
of problems concerning tuberculosis,
syphilis, pyogenic diseases and the path-
ogenic filtrable viruses. Prom 1930 on
he was occupied almost wholly with
the many problems concerned wath en-
demic and epidemic typhus fevers —
etiology, transmission, immunology and
epidemiology — ^to all of which he made
notable contributions. His last success
in the typhus field was the development
of methods practicable for the mass pro-
duction of vaccines for typhus fever
and, incidentally, for Rocky Mountain
spotted fever.

He is appraised in scientific circles as
one of the outstanding bacteriologists
and immunologists of his time. The pub-
lic knew him best through his two de-
lightfully written books, ‘‘Rats, Lice and
History” (1935) and his autobiography,
”As I Remember Him; The Biography
of R: 8.” (1940). Medical students
throughout the world know of him
through his text-books of bacteriology
and immunology, both of which have
gone through many editions and trans-
lations into other languages.

In university 'circle, the breadth and

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

HANS ZINSSER— SCIENTIST AND HUMANITARIAN

to 1919.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

depth of his knowledge brought him con-
tacts witli the best minds in diverse fields
of learning. He was an inspiring and
enthusiastic teacher of medical students.
A leader in research, he attracted stu-
dents from many countries; they re-
ceived from him education in many
things outside of science because he dis-
coursed freely with all his associates and
was wholly devoid of academic affecta-
tion.

His was a sensitive nature, quick to

respond in defense or aid, wrath or sym-
pathy, as occasion warranted. As Pro-
fessor Walter B. Cannon has said : “The
wide range of his interests, his sense of
humor, his skill as a musician, his ex-
uberant spirits and infectious enthusi-
asm and his warmly affectionate nature
made him a delightful companion and,
to those who knew him well, one of the
choicest of friends.”

S. B. WOLBACH
Harvard Medical School

THE AMERICAN ASSOCIATION ADVANCES SCIENCE

On the general program of the meet-
ing of the American Association for the
Advancement of Science held in Phila-
delphia from December 27 to January
2, the titles of more than two thousand
addresses and papers appear. It is diffi-
cult to visualize such a volume of scien-
tific contributions. If the papers were
presented sequentially before the associa-
tion as a whole, and if the average length
of time required to read a paper were

DB. A. B. COBLE

PROrRSROR OF MATHEMATICS, UNIVERSITY OF
ILLINOIS J CHAIRMAN OP THE SECTION ON MATHE-
MATICS.

fifteen minutes, the meeting would con-
tinue more than 500 hours, or two
months at eight hours per day. Conse-
quently, it is necessary to hold many ses-
sions simultaneously; in fact, as many
as forty-five are to be held at one time.

Two distinct kinds of sessions are held
at the meetings of the association. There
are sessions at which specialists present
before other specialists in the same field
the results of their most recent investi-

DB. GEORGE SCATCHARD
PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY, MASSACHUSETTS IN-
STITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY; CHAIRMAN OF THE
SECTION ON CHEMISTRY.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

ROBERT R. McMATlI

DlRRCTORy MCMATH-HULBKRT OBSRRVATORY, UNI-
VERSITY OP MICHIGAN; CHAIRMAN OP THE SEC-
TION ON ASTRONOMY.

^rations. There are other sessions at
which distirif^uished scientists present
surveys of rather broad fields of science.
The former, roujfhly speaking, are
analyses, while the latter are syntheses.
Science marches in two columns, each
of which is necessary for the continued
advance of the other.

As I have said, there are sessions for
the presentation of technical papers by
specialists. These sessions are analytic
in character because they pertain to one
of the narrow fields into which science
has been analyzed. When the associa-
tion was founded ninety-two years ago,
science consisted of natural philosophy
and natural history. Natural philoso-
phy? generally speaking, included the
mathematical and physical sciences ;
natural history, the biological sciences.
Very soon subdivisions of these fields
were organized. Now the association has
fifteen sections, including the humani-
ties — ^if the word has any definite mean-
ing. But this is not all; one hundred

DH. liEON J. COLE

PROFESSOR OF GENETICS, UNIVERSITY OF WISCON-
SIN ; CHAIRMAN OF THE SECTION ON ZOOUXUCAL

SCIENCES.

M. L. FEBNALD

FISHER PROFESSOR OR NATURAIi HISTORY, HAR-
VARD university; chairman of SECTION ON
BOTANICAL SCIENCES.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

'.,‘v‘l.

. ■< - ;

DR. KARD M. DALLENBACH

PROFERBOa OF PBYCHOLOOT, OORKBLL UKXVSRSITT ;
SDiToa^ American Journal of Peyohology , obah-
MAN OF THE SECTION ON FBTOHOXiOQT.

and seventy-four other scientific societies
are affiliated with the association, many
of which meet with it regularly. They
range from societies organized for the
advancement of such universally known
subjects as astronomy and ph^ics to
such recently recognized subjects as
rheology, psychometry and photogram-
metry. A wag once said that specialists
in such narrow fields are scientists who
learn more and more about less and less.
There is some truth in the quip, but in

'■JV''. \y. ■ . K'.. Vr'-* , ■ 'y •

vS,

DR. HOLBROOK WORKING

KCONOMIBT, FOOD BKSEIBCH IKBTITUTX, BTANFOBD
DNITIKSITT; CHAIBHAM OF THE SECTION ON
SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC SCIENCES.

fairness all the emphasis should be
placed on the “more and more.”

It is the other aspect of science, the
synthetic, as it appears in the meetings
of the association, which I wish espe*
cially to consider here. In addition to
the general sessions, open to all scientists
and the general public as well, there are
formal syntheses in special fields by men
who have achieved distinction in them.
Each of the fifteen sections of the asso*
elation has a chairman for one year who

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

is also vice-president of the association.
Upon retiring from ofl8ce each vice-
president delivers an address upon some
subject in the field of his section. The
retiring presidents of the affiliated socie-
ties also usually deliver formal addresses
before their respective societies or before
joint sessions of their societies and of
societies in related fields.

As might be expected, the addresses
of the vice-presidents of the association
and of the presidents of affiliated socie-
ties are generally synthetic in character.

DB. OHAUNCEY D. LEAKE

PSOrBSBOR Of PHARMACOLOGY, UNIVERSITY OF
CALIFORNIA MEDICAL SCHOOL; CHAIRMAN, SEC-
TION ON HISTORICAL AND PHILOLOGICAL SCIENCES.

Syntheses are not simply enumerations
of facts and theories in some field. They
are coherent organizations of data and
theories in special fields. They develop
the inter-relations among the data and
theories and often their relations to
other fields of science and, in these days,
to the complex problems of human rela-
tions.

Photographs of the retiring vice-presi-
dents of the association are reproduced

R. L. SAOKETT

EMERITUS DEAN OF ENGINEERING, PENNSYLVANIA
STATE COLLEGE; CHAIRMAN OF THE SECTION ON

ENGINEERING.

DR. PAUL R, CANNON
PROFESSOR OF PATBOLOGT, UNIYERSITY OF CHI-
CAGO; CHAIRMAN OF THE SEOTtOK ON MEDICAL

SCIENCES.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

DR. W. H. CHANDLER

PROFESSOR OF POMOI.<OOY, AND ASSISTANT DEAN,
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA; CHAIRMAN OF THE
SECTION ON AGRICULTURE.

in this issue. They were nominated by
their sections as beinj? amonf? the leaders
of American science in their respective
fields, and they were elected by the
council of the association. The titles of
their addresses are priven in the General
Proprram of the meetinp:. Uepresenting,
as they do, every principal field of the
natural and social sciences, their ad-
dresses are a cross section of science at
the present time.

Every day we read in the daily press
that the present is a critical time in the
world’s history and every evening we
hear, if we listen, the same sentiments
expressed over tlie radio. Perhaps it is
a critical period in which we live. But
on the whole scientists contemplate it
without hysteria. For every unfavor-
able influence that c^an be mentioned,
they can name two new ones that are
favorable. The statement can be illus-
trated by the destruction of human life.
The war is taking a considerable number
of lives directly and probably a greater
number by malnutrition. But at its

DR. E. J. A8HBAUGH

DEAN OP THE SCHOOL OP EDUCATION, MIAMI UNI-
VERSITY; CHAIRMAN OP THE SECTION ON EDUCA-
TION.

worst the destruction is not comparable
to tke plagues that once swept over the
world. Even the reduction in infant
mortality during the past forty years
more than offsets any prospective loss of
life in the present war, and the general
improvement in diet will more than cure
the consequences of temporary under-
nourishment. The proof of these state-
ments lies in the rapid general increase
of populations throughout the western
world and in the striking improvement
in human statures, at least in America.

The vice-presidents of the association
are excellent representatives of scientists
who regard mankind and its present
troubles with the perspective of a knowl-
edge of the long history of the earth and
of the life that has evolved on its surface.
They are aware of the great tragedies
the world has witnessed, and of its mar-
velous triumphs as well. From this vm-
tage point of knoivledge they look with
steady eye at the evils of a day.

F. R. MouimJN,

Permanent Secretary

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

CONTRIBUTIONS TO PUBLIC HEALTH OF THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT

The National Institute of Health in
reality is the research division of the
United States Public Health Service.
On a bronze plaque in the rotunda of
the Administration Building of the new
institute at Bethesda, Maryland, there
are inscribed these words; “This Insti-
tute is dedicated to the investigation of
matters pertaining to the public health.^'
That brief statement expresses very well
the field of activity of the institute.

The institute (*ame into being in a
room at the old Marine Hospital at
Stapleton, Staten Island, New York, in
1887. Its creation for study of infec-
tious diseases was an example of the
wisdom of those ofl8cers of the Public
Health Service who foresaw that the
development of public health work in the
United States must be allied with re-
search into these fields. A few years
later the institute was transferred to
Washington, D. C., and in 1901, with a
very modest appropriation of $35,000,
the Hygienic Laboratory, as it was then
called, came into being on a small plot

of ground transferred from the Navy
Department. Additional buildings were
added in 1918, and again in 1930» at
which time the name of the laboratory
was changed to the National Institute of
Health. In 1935 Mr. and Mrs. Luke I.
Wilson donated a tract of land of 45
acres at Bethesda, Maryland, to be used
as a site for the National Institute of
Health. Then followed in rapid succes-
sion the construction of the buildings to
house the field and administrative offices
of the institute, the Divisions of Indus-
trial Hygiene and Public Health Meth-
ods, the National Cancer Institute, and
finally the last two buildings of this
group of six to house the Divisions of
Infectious Diseases, Biologic Control,
Zoology, Chemotherapy and Pathology,
which were dedicated by the President
of the United States on October 31, 1940.
As the original site was too small, Mrs.
Wilson and her son, after the death of
her husband, donated an additional 40
acres.

Although there was never any doubt

THE ADMINISTRATION BUILDING OF THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE OP HEALTH

COMPLETBD LAST FALIi, THIS BUll/DlNO BOUSES THE UBftAET AKB Al0>ITORnJM AS WELL AS TBE

ADMIKI6TKATIOK OmCES.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

of the necessity and legal authority for
the research work carried on at the insti-
tute^ it was not until 1912 that Congress
enacted into law the broad authority for
public health research under which the
work of the institute is still carried on.
This act, which changed the name of the
Public Health and Marine Hospital Ser-
vice to the Public Health Service, also
carried with it authority “to study and
investigate the diseases of man and con-
ditions influencing the propagation and
spread thereof.” Since an appropria-
tion for “Field Investigations” was ob-
tained under the authority of this act,
we may take it as the first recognition
by the Federal Government of its obli-
gation for the conduct of public health
research. Three other acts have had an
important bearing on the scope and
character of the research work of the
institute ; these are : the Biologies Act of
1902, which imposed upon the service the
control of all biological and analogous
products sold in the United States; the
National Institute of Health Act of
1930, authorizing the institute to accept
gifts for study, research and investiga-
tion into the fundamental problems of
the diseases of man and matters pertain-
ing thereto; and the National Cancer
Institute Act of 1938.

Originally the institute consisted of
four divisions — bacteriology and pathol-
ogy, zoology, pharmacology and chem-
istry, and was a part of the Scientific
Research Division of the Public Health
Service. There existed at this time, in
addition to the institute, over 20 field
offices having to do with certain field
investigations such as malaria, stream
pollution, child hygiene, statistics, in-
dustrial hygiene, nutrition, and others.
In 1937 Surgeon General Parran con-
solidated the Research Division with the
National Institute of Health and by the
establishment of additional divisions of
the institute brought together all the
field investigations’ offices under one
directing head.

The National Institute of Health

therefore consists of nine divisions,
which are as follows: Industrial Hy-
giene, Public Health Methods, Zoology,
Pathology, Infectious Diseases, Biologies
Control, Chemistry, Chemotherapy, and
the National Cancer Institute.

The scope of public health investiga-
tions undertaken at the institute, while
indicated in general by the names of the
divisions, reaches down into broad rami-
fications of health and sanitation prob-
lems affecting the people of this country.
Some few of these problems may be
briefly sketched.

Year by year the population of this
country is piling up more people in the
older age groups. This means that more
of our population are coming into the
cancer age and this disease is now sec-
ond in the important causes of death.
The National Cancer Institute is attack-
ing this problem from every angle ; it is
coordinating and stimulating cancer re-
search in its own laboratories, as well
as in other laboratories throughout the
nation that are engaged in similar work ;
it is aiding in the development of cancer
control programs in State and local com-
munities; it is cooperating with other
agencies in bringing to the people the
simple understandable facts about the
treatment of cancer ; it is training scores
of physicians in cancer treatment that
these men may be more useful to the
people of their communities; it has
loaned radium to many hospitals
throughout the nation where it is used
without cost to those needing treatment,
but unable to pay for it; and lastly it
has made many grants-in-aid of money
to universities and laboratori^ which
need financial assistance in their re-
search problems.

Many health problems have been and
are being solved in the Division of In-
fectious Diseases: Goldberger’s work
on pellagra; Francis’ discovery of
tularemia; Spencer’s Rocky Mountain
spotted fever vaccine; Aimstrong’s
work on poliomyelitis and the other
virus diseases, and the contributions of

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Dyer and his associates in the rickettsial
diseases have given us insight into the
prevention and control of many diseases.

In the Division of Industrial Hygiene,
not only has this division added much
to our knowledge of the prevention of
silicosis in the dusty trades, but in a
practical way it has aided in the estab-
lishment of over 25 industrial hygiene
units in the separate states, which in the
present expansion of industry in the de-
fense program makes it possible in this
country for the first time to control
industrial hazards before they exist.

The stream pollution studies of the
Division of Public Health Methods have
been carried on uninterrupted since
1913. Besides the many contributions
to our knowledge of the basic principles

of stream purification made by Frost
and his associates, the publications of
this laboratory have been accepted by
our courts of law in the regulation of
stream flow in certain sanitary district
areas.

From these few illustrations it will be
seen that the work of the National Insti-
tute of Health in attacking the public
health problems of the nation is roughly
along two lines : through field and labo-
ratory research we are reaching more
deeply into the basic causes of disease
and of health, and with this knowledge
in our hands we are attempting to apply
it to the practical welfare of the people.

Lewis U. Thompson,
Directory National Institute
of Health

THE WASHINGTON EXHIBIT OF THE BUREAU OF PLANT INDUSTRY

A DISPLAY covering some of the high-
lights of the work of the Bureau of Plant
Industry w’as held in the patio of the
Administration Building of the Depart-
ment of Agriculture throughout the
month of November. As it w^as impos-
sible to cover the work of the entire
bureau in the space available, attention
was focused on investigations concerned
with soils and plant nutrition, plant in-
troduction, plant breeding and plant re-
search of special interest to urban resi-
dents.

Living plants were used almost ex-
clusively in the exhibits on plant nutri-
tion, introduction, and breeding. This
feature attracted unusual interest and
lent an air of reality so often lacking in
displays that rely on charts and photo-
graphs. Each individual exhibit and
each of the four groups was planned to
tell a story of research achievement.
The presence of living plants made it
possible to reduce to a minimum the
need for explanatory placards. For
students and others interested in more
detailed discussion, brief mimeographed
notes were available.

In planning the exhibit the interests
of city dwellers were kept in mind. For
this reason one of the features was an
exhibit on lawns. At the entrance of the
patio a beautiful bluegrass lawn 6 feet
square showed results of fall seeding and
proper fertilizing. Nearby were four
smaller squares of sod each of which had
been the victim of poor management.
Hundreds of visitors viewed this exhibit
and compared notes on their difficulties
with lawns.

In the first half of the month chrysan-
themums introduced by the bureau were
displayed around the fountain in the
center of the patio. For the last two
weeks this place of honor was occupied
by Easter lilies in bloom, forced from
American-grown bulbs. In each instance
the flowers represented plant breeding
work of the bureau.

The soils exhibit was built around an
enlarged copy of the soil map of the
United States, Five-foot monoliths of
eight representative soil groups of the
country gave many visitors their flrst
opportunity to see what lies beneath the
top layer of soil. Equipment used by

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

CLAUDE R. WICKABD, SECRETARY OF AGRICULTURE, AND DR. M. A. McCALL,

ASSISTANT CarEF OF THE BlIRKAlJ OF PLANT INDUSTRY, EXAMINING THE TOMATO SECTION OF THE

EXHIBIT OF THE BUREAU OF PLANT INDUSTRY.

PLANT NUTRITION EXHIBIT

THE TOBACCO PLANT IN THE CENTER WAS GIVEN ALL SOIL CONSTITUENTS NEGBSSART FOR ITS FULL
DEVELOPMENT* BACH OF THE STUNTED PLANTS ON BITRSR SIDE DID NOT RECEIVE ONE OP THE

REQUIRED MINERALS*

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

soil surveyors was on display and a
series of photographs told how this work
is performed.

An exhibit that attracted much atten-
tion was a series of 11 tobacco plants
growing in glass jars containing nutrient
solutions. The center plant had received
all the elements necessary for normal
development, and stood about five feet
tall. On either side were five other

could see the nematodes moving about
under a low power lens.

Although nearly every fruit, vege-
table, cereal and nut may seem good
American crops, many of them like our
people have come from other lands.
Two world max)s, by a series of symbols,
showed that nearly every country of the
globe has made some contribution to
our foodstuffs or our flower gardens.

NEW VARIETIES OF CHRYSANTHEMUMS

ORIGINATED AS PART OP THE WORK OP THE BUREAU OP PLANT INDUSTRY.

plants of the same age. Each had been
deprived of one of the elements neces-
sary for normal growth. On a nearby
table was an exhibit of fertiliser mate-
rials commonly used to provide these
elements.

To further emphasize the relationship
between soils and plants an exhibit on
soil microorganisms was used. The fea-
ture of this part of the exhibit was a
group of microscopes on which were
mounted living nematodes. Slides were
replaced every few days so that visitors

Various tropical and subtropical ex-
hibits included coconuts, once from
Malaya, now from Florida ; persimmons,
once from China, now from California,
Texas and other states* pistachio nuts,
once from Asia Minor, now from the
Pacific Coast, and so the list might be
continued almost indefinitely.

As one walked through this portion of
the show, looking at the murals of
bamboo, rice, persimmons, dates, wild
tomatoes, rubber, navel oranges, coco-
nuts; noting th^ various palms from

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Central and South America, the c^cti
from Argentina, haws from China,
almonds from Spain; and studying the
seed collections, one could only marvel
at the diversity and value of the crops
which have been ‘‘naturalized’' here as
a result of plant introduction efforts
both public and private.

Except for tree fruits and nuts, all
the plant-breeding exhibits consisted of
living plants. Crops represented were
apples, alfalfa, clovers, grass, cotton,
corn, oats, sorghum, wheat, tobacco, to-
matoes, sugarcane, sugarbeets and nuts.
In most instances the plants were grown
in greenhouses especially for the exhibit.
Several stalks of cotton with open bolls
were sent up from Mississippi and a
group of dry-land grasses including
Buffalo grass was sent from the South-
ern Great Plains station at Woodward,
Oklahoma.

The aim was to show results, rather
than techniques of plant breeding. This
was portrayed in a striking manner in
the tomato exhibit. This exhibit illus-
trated how plant diseases are often con-
trolled by breeding. In this case the
objective was resistance to wilt. The
exhibit consisted of 6 matiire plants, all
of which had red, ripe fruit, and 12 seed-
lings, about the right age for transplant-
ing. First in the line-up of mature
plants was the wild Peruvian currant,
resistant to wilt and collected in Peni
by a plant explorer several years ago.
Its fruit was about the size of a marble.
Next was a typical plant of the Mar-
globe, introduced by the bureau several
years ago and now the leading commer-

cial variety in the country. The third
plant was a first generation cross of the
first two. The remaining plants were
successive backcrosses to the Marglobe
parent, and each showed a marked in-
crease in size of fruit. The final product
had fruit as large and isttraetive as that
of the Marglobe, and ririiitant to wilt.

Th^ young plants detnoiMrtrated the
effect of wilt on Bonny Best, a popular
commercial variety, Marglobe, Peruvian
currant and the new hybrid. Bonny
Best plants were completely killed and
Marglobe was badly stunted. The cur-
rant and its offspring showed no effects
from inoculation with the fungus.

Photographs enlarged to 60 by 80
inches served the double purpose of
“walling in” the patio and providing
an attractive background for the indi-
vidual exhibits. In so far as it was pos-
sible to get suitable negatives, the photo-
graphs were on the same subjects as the
exhibits directly in front.

Special invitations were sent to science
classes of all nearby high schools and col-
leges. No actual count of visitors was
attempted, but from the number who
registered it seems safe to say that at
least 3,000 students alone visited the
exhibit, in addition to many thousand
others. Most of the students came with
their teachers and took notes on what
they saw.

The exhibit was arranged by a special
committee, consisting of one member
from each division of the bureau.

B. C. Auohtbr,

Chiefs Bureau of Plant Industry
U, 8. Department of Ayrieulture

THE SCIENTiniCiMONTHLY

FEBRUARY. 1941

ASPECTS OF TWIN RESEARCH

By Dr. H. H

PK0FRS8OR OF ZOOLOGY,

Bfxiinnings op Twin Research

Since time immemorial twins have been
(»bjeets of intense interest. Human atti-
tudes toward twins have been greatly
influenced by changes in the social evolu-
tion of mankind.

Because twins and multiple births are
leather unusual they were at first re-
garded as ill some way abnormal and
omens of good or evil to the families or
tribes into which they were born. Even
to-day some primitive tribes treat twins
as either objects of awe and respect or
as visitations of evil spirits, to be gotten
rid of as soon m possible.

Gradually superstitious attitudes to-
ward multiple human births have given
way to Ncientiflc curiosity about them,
but it was a long time before twins and
multiple births became the objects of
scientific study.

Prior to the twentieth century chief
interest in twins was centered on the
problem of the nature and origin of
double monsters. A long controversy
raged over this problem, in which many
of the leading biologists of the eighteenth
and nineteenth centuries took part. One
school of thought upheld the preforma-
tion view, according to w^hich double
monsters were preformed in the egg or
sperm; while their opponents, the epi-
genesists, believed that doubling was the

1 Dr. Newmiui is author of Multiple JSTw-man
Births, the flmt of the American Association for
the Advancement of Science series of non-tech*
nical books on important scientific subjects of
wide general interest.

NEWMAN^

t^NlVERSlTY OP CHICAGO

result of something that occurred during
the course of development. Even to-day
some biologists hold that double monsters
are the products of the fusion of origi-
nally separate embyros, while others re-
gard them as the products of the incom-
plete fission of an originally single
embyro.

It was not until 1904 that double mon-
sters came to be regarded as instances of
incomplete one-egg twinning, when H. II.
Wilder elaborated this view in his signifi-
cant paper, ** Duplicate Twins and
Double Monsters.^’ Wilder showed that
si‘parate one-egg twins and symmetrical
double monsters, for which he invented
the term “cosmobia” belong to the same
series. Wilder seems to have been the
first worker to make detailed compari-
sons between the members of one-egg
twin pairs and to carry this comparison
to such minutiae as finger prints and
palm prints.

So far as we have been able to ascer-
tain, the first to recognize the existence
of two kinds of twins, one-egg and two-
egg twins, was Sir Francis Qalton. By
a stroke of genius he guessed that these
two types of twins exist and leaped to the
logical conclusion that one-egg twins
were genetically alike and that two-egg
twins were merely siblings conceived and
born together. Qalton promptly realized
the use to which twins could be put as
materials for genetic research.

By the use nf questionnaires sent out
to a considerable number of twins of

100

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

STRIKINGLY SIMILAR “IDENTICAL” TWINS

SEPARATED AT EIGHT DAYS OP AGE AND REARED IN QUITE DIPPEEENT BNVIRONHEMTB. IN THE UNITED
STATES ABOUT ONE BIRTH IN 88 CONSISTS OP TWINS, OP WHOM ABOUT ONE POUETH ARE ONE-EGO

(IDENTKIAL) TWINS AND TKR»K FOUETHS ARE TWO-BOO TWINS.

both types he sought answers to two main
questions :

(1) Do fraternal (two-egg) twins
grow more similar as the result of being
subjected for years to a common environ-
ment?

(2) Do identical (one-egg) twins grow
more different after being separated and
living under different environmental
conditions?

The questionnaires seemed to give neg-
ative answers to both questions. Fra-
ternal twins, instead of growing more

similar as the result of living together
for years, persisted in exhibiting marked
differences and often became increas-
ingly unlike ; while identical twins, even
when one had lived for years in India
and the other had stayed in England, re-
mained as similar as ever.

On the basis of these results Galton
came to the conclusion that environmen-
tal differences, such as are to be found
in the same community and at the same
time, produce only slight changes in the
individuars physical and mental traits,

ASPECTS OF TWIN RESEARCH

101

which are, therefore, determined chiefly
by ‘Mnborn nature/* These first studies
by Oalton were published in a paper en-
titled, ‘*The History of Twins as a Cri-
terion of the Relative Powers of Nature
and Nurture. ** Thus began the scientific
study of twins.

Twin research between 1876, the date
of Oalton *s publication, and 1904, when
Wilder aroused new interest in twinning
problems, was largely limited to statis-
tical studies.

As early as 1885 Veit had made an
(‘xtensive study of the frequency of twin,
triplet and'* quadruplet births in Ger-
many and had determined for that
country that on the average th^e oc-
curred one twin birth in 85 births. Ten
years later Hellin announced his remark-
able rule, called “ Hellin *s Law.** This
rule is that if the frequency of twins to
total births is 1 to 85, the frequency of
triplets is 1 to 85^, while that of quad-
ruplets is 1 to 85“. This rule agrees re-
markably closely with actual mass data.
Just why, nobody knows.

In 1902 Weinberg, on the basis of the
sex distribution of very large numbers
of twins, came to the conclusion that not
only are one-egg twins a reality, but
that about one fourth of ail twins are
one-egg twins. Weinberg reasoned that
there should be equal numbers of same-
sexed and opposite-sexed two-egg twins.
By doubling the number of boy-girl twin
pairs (surely two-egg twins), making an
allowance for the slightly greater num-
ber of males than females, and subtract-
ing this number from the total number
of twin pairs in a country, he obtained
the number of one-egg pairs. This came
to be known as the Weinberg Differential
Method. In 1907 Nichols used the Wein-
berg im‘thoil in determining the percent-
age of one-egg twins to all twins in the
United States to be about 26. This w^as
in close agreement with Weinberg’s fig-
ure for Germany.

Up to the time when Weinberg showed
statistically that a large number of same-
sexed pairs of human twins must be one-
egg twins the existence of such twins was

■iiilA

OLOSKLT SIMILAB << IDENTICAL’’ TlyiNS

ALTHOOOH TRS OKS ON THK LUfT WAS RKABED IN liONDON AND THE OTHKE IN A SMALL TOWN IN
.ONTARIO, 0ANAJU,»TBm BXaXMBLANOE 18 t)NMiaTA1c;AilI4B. (JOURNAL OF HBRRDtTT)

102

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

purely liypotbeti(;al. Galtoii, on the basis
of the very strong intra-pair resemblance
in so-called “identical twins “ had rea-
soned that such twins must have a com-
mon genetici make-ui) and therefore must
have been derived from a single egg. At
that time there was no direct embryo-
logical evidence that one-egg twinning
ever takes place among mammals.

The first reports on these two studies
were both published in 1909. In both
these species of armadillo but one egg is
involved in each pregnancy, as is evi-
denced by a single corpus luteum. All
fetuses in a set are of tlie same sex. In
the Texas nine-banded armadillo (D.
novvmcJncftts) four fetuses are arranged
very regularly within a single chorion,

IDENTICAL ONE-EGG QUADRUPLETS

ONLY ONE BIRTH IN 600,000 CONSISTS OF QUAPRUPLETS; A FRACTION OF THEM ARE OF ONE-ROO ORIOIN.

The Tunning Point
So long as the actual existence of one-
egg twins remained hypothetical, little
use could be made of twins in the investi-
gation of human problems. One cliiliial
step in the direction of laying a se^re
foundation for twin research was the dis-
covery and study of one-egg twinning in
two species of armadillo, Dasypus no-
vemcinctus (Newman and Patterson)
and Dasypus hyhridus (Fernandez).

two on one side and two on the other.
In the South American species (P.
hyhridus) from seven to twelve embryos
are derived from a single egg. In suc-
ceeding years Newman and Patterson
studied and reported on the complete em-
bryonic history, showing conclusively
that the embryo up to a fairly advanced
stage develops as a single individual and
then undergoes two twinning divisions.
The first division gives rise to symmetri-

ASPECTS OF TWIN RESEARCH 103

FILIPINO “SIAMESE’* TWIN BOYS AND THEIB “IDENTICAL” TWIN WIVES

cally placed twin primordia, each of Newman made a statistical study of
which divides evenly again to form a the degrees of -resemblance and difference
secondary pair. with respect to numbers of scutes in the

104

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

TIIK HAND OF MARIE DIONNE

THE HILTON ** SIAMESE »» TWIN GIULS

armor and found that the intra-set co-
eflReient of correlation for the banded
region was about .92, while that between
members of secondary pairs was some-
wdiat higher, about .935. These correla-
tions were of the same order as those
previously determined for right and left
sides of "Single organisms.

Newman also showed that rare band
irregularities in the armor (regionally
<loubled bands) were inherited, and in a
very peculiar way. It the mother has a
partly doubled band near the left margin
of Band 1, fetus 1 may have a similar
character on the left side, fetus 2 on the
right side, fetus 3 on both sides and fetus
4 on neither side. Thus four individuals
genetically alike may express an in-
herited character in several different
ways, or even not at all. There is thus
a distinct contrast between inheriting
and expressing a character. There was
also noted a considerable amount of mir-
ror imaging between individuals of the
same set of young armadillos.

It was only natural to suspect that,
since one-egg twinning takes place so
regtdarly in certain mammals, it proba-
bly takes place sporadically in much the
same fashion in human embryos. It has
not been possible, for obvious reasons, to
study the early stages of one-egg twin-
ning in man ; so for the present and until
we secure evidences to the contrary, we
must take the twinning picture revealed
by the armadillos as the best model for
human one-egg twinning.

It was with this idea in mind that in
1917 I wrote a little book, *^The Biology
of Twins, in which I described the
course of twinning in various armadillos,
dealt with the extent to which variation
occurs among individuals alike geneti-
cally, and then reviewed our knowledge
of twinning, both one-egg and two-egg,
in other mammals, including man. This
little book, according to leading twin
specialists in various parts of the world, •
served the purpose of focusing their at-
tention upon human twins and their

ASPECTS OF TWIN RESEARCH

possible uses as materials for researdi.
Prom this small beginning has prrown a
new ami thrivinj^ branch of biolof^ieal
research eiij^afrinj? the attention of many
iiivestijjators in a dozen different coun-
tries and in a score of different fields of
scientific inquiry. In 1923 I published
a second book, ‘^The Physiolojry of
Twiniiinjj:/’ in which were hroujrht to-
p:(*ther for the first time all previously
published data on one-e^^^ twinning in
the animal kinfxdom. In this book 1
discussed the causes and consequences of
one-ef»:{r twinning? and sujr^ested the uses
to wiiich twins could be put in further

105

countries, the chief of which were the
United States, England, Germany, Aus-
tria, Japan, Norway, Sweden, Denmark,
Holland, Russia ami Finland.

Modern twin research may be con-
veniently divided into two main catego-
ries: Uy studies of the various aspects of
twins and multiple births that contribute
to our knowledge of the nature, causes
and frequencies of twins, etc., and 6,
studies in which twins are used as ma-
terials for the investigation of problems
in a multiplicity of other fields.

Among the investigations dealing with
twins themselves are the following;

^aDKxNTICAL'' TRIPLETS

ONLY about one BIRTH IN 8,000 CONSISTS OF TRIPLETS, ONLY A FEW OF WHOM SURVIVE THE
HAZARDS OF MTTLTIPLK BIRTH AND ONLY A PART OP WHOM ARE DERIVED FROM ONE EGO.

research iiroblems. Some of the tlieorios
of twinning proposed at that time ex-
cited considerable controversy and stim-
ulated additional research.

The Modern Period

Arbitrarily, I would be inclined to set
the date of the beginning of the modern
period of twin research at about 1924.
Certainly the vast majority of publica-
tions in this field have appeared since
that date. About that time extensive
programs of wwk on a great variety of
twin problems were begun in several

( 1 ) Studies of the relative frequencies
of twdiis of the two main kinds among
different races and under different en-
vironmental conditions.

(2) Studies of the varying propor-
tions of one-egg and two-egg twins in
various populations.

(8) Studies of methods of experi-
mental induction of twins in loww ani-
mals.

(4 ) Detailed studies of multiple births,
such as quadruplets and quintuplets.

( 5 ) Methods of distinguishing between
one-egg and two-egg twins. The same

106

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

methods are also ap])lied to iimltiple
births.

(6) Analysis of reversed asymmetry,
or mirror imag:ii% in twins and its
sifcnifieanee.

(7) Studies of resemblauees end dif-
ferences in one-egpr twins, triplets, quad-
ruplets, and quintupletA, especially of
the Dionne quintuplets.

(8) Studies of mutual intimacy and
social interrelations of twins.

DEMON8TRATTON OF HEREDITY

IDENTH^AL IWIN SI8TKK8 AND THEIR IDENTICAL

TWIN NEPHEWS.

(9) Investigations of the prenatal and
birth hazards of twins and their rela-
tively high infantile death-rate.

(10) The reasons for the higher pre-
natal death-rate of one-egg than two-egg
twins.

(11) Studies of the dermatoglyphics
(palm, finger and sole prints) of twins
and multiple sets.

(12) Studies of the inheritance of the
twinning tendency.

(13) Special studies, of conjoined
twins, especially dealing with mirror
imaging and differen(?es between the two
components.

(14) Studies of the relatively high
freijiiency of oiie-egg twins in tubal preg-
nancies.

Among tlie applied asi>ects of twin re-
search are those numerous studies in
which twins are used to tlirow light on
various problems in fields remote from
that of twinning as such. Taking as a
starting jmint the faet that one-egg
twins are identical genetically and two-
egg twins differ to the same extent as
siblings, it is possible to determine by
appropriate methods the extent to which
various human traits are hereditary and
the extent to which such hereditary traits
are or may be mollified by differences in
environment and training.

Three main methods have been used in
these studies; a, the eoncordanee-dis-
eordance method ; fo, the co-twin control
method; and c, statistical methods.

The CONrORl>ANCE-DlS(^ORDANOK

Method

H. W. Siemens, a Dutch dermatologist,
seems to deserve credit for the first at-
tempt to use twins in the seientific stiid}’^
of pathology. In 1924 he published his
book, “Die Zwillitigs Pathologic, “ in
which he i)resented his investigations of
dermatological anomalies and diseases in
numerous pairs of twins and a few sets of
triplets. He also is the first to have
published a method of distinguishing be-
tween one-egg and two-egg twins, a
method now called the “similarity
method “ and adopted in various modi-
fied forms by ail students of twins. Sie-
mens may be regarded as perhaps the
pioneer of modern applied twin research.

The underlying concept of Siemens
was that all anomalies and diseases that
were always present in both members of
a pair of one-egg twins and only rarely
so in two-egg twinis^ were fully heredi-
tary ; that when such conditions were not
always present in both of one-egg twins,

ASPECTS OF TWIN RESEARCH

107

but more freciiiently so than in two-egf?
twins, these are partly hereditary but
due partly to differences in environment.
Cases of complete correspondence in both
members of a pair were termed concor-
dant ( f I ) , cases of differences in defjfree
of correspondence* were desipiated ( + 1 -i ] )
and total la(^k of correspondence was
called discordance - )• Siemens'
methods have been extensively used in
many types of study, notably those on
criminality, psychiatry, ophthalmoloji:y,
ji:(»neti(‘s of anomalies and diseases, etc.
Such studies are too numerous to review
in this brief historical sketch. Suffice it
to say that throujrh tin* use of this
method our knowledjre of the jjenetic
basis of a lar^e number of human char-
acters lias been discovered or confirmed,
that many problems in human physiol-
o;^y and behavior have been illuminated,
that new knowledge as to hereditary dif-

KKNNETH and .TEBBY, ONE-EGG TWINS

BBOUOHT TOOBTHia BBCAITSB A TEAOHEE VIBITINO
AKOTHBR TBACHKR IN A DISTANT CITY NOTUJBD A
IM)Y IN ONB OF THE CLASSES WHO STRIKINGLY
RBSEKBLBD A BOY IN HER OWN SCHOOL.

GLAUY8 AND HELEN

SEPARATED AT KHlHTEEN MONTHS TO MEET AGAIN
AT AGE TWENTY -KimiT, WERE RET’ SITED AT THE
(’HK^AOO EXPOSITION IN 193,S. THEY VISITED THE
GROUNDS IN (OAIPANY WITH EDWIN AND FRED,
TWO ^MDENTICAI/* TWIN YOUNG MEN, THE VOVK

AROUSING MUCH INTEREST AT THE FAIR.

ferenees in suseeptibility to eontajrious
diseases has been obtained, that differ-
enees in sleepiiijr and wakinjr habits have
proven to be largely hereditary, that
criminalistic tendencies have lieeii shown
in many cases to have a definite heredi-
tary basis, and that various w^ell-known
types of psychoses and neuroses are also
hereditary.

The Co-twin (^ntkol Method

In these studies one-egg twins must be
used exclusively; otherwise the control
aspect of the study is wanting. Assum-
ing that a pair of one-egg twdns is geneti-
cally identical, one member can be used
aii a control and the other subjected to
experimental treatment. Arnold Oesell,
Yale child psychologist, seems to have
been the first to use this method in the
study of the effects of training in young
infants. As the result of the detailed
study of one pair of one-egg twin babies,

108

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

he (concluded that the training of one
twin at a later period for a shorter time
was as effective as training the other
twin at an earlier period for a nnieh
longer time, and hence that much of the
imj)rovement of skills was the result of
pure maturation of tlie nervous system,
which becomes more efficient merely as
the result of devel()j)ment.

One other alleged co-twin control ex-
periment has been extensively publicized,
namely, the case of Myrtle McQraw’s
Johnnie and Jimmie, This would have
been a highly significant experiment had
not the twins turned out to be of the
fraternal (two-egg) variety and thus
lacking all elements of co-twin control.

Much more extensive use of th^ co-
twin (jontrol method was made in Russia.
A group of scientists at the Maxim
Oorky Medi(?o-genetical Institute of Mos-
cow, as i)art of an extensive twin re-
search program, maintained a dormitory
for a number of pairs of preschool-ag<‘

one-egg twins. These were kept in an
environmejit as nearly uniform as that
usually maintained in an experimental
animal colony. Many kinds of experi-
ments were conducted witli this twin
(colony, involving both physiological and
psychological problems. It Avould be be-
yond tlie 8co))e of the present article to
report the results obtained and the con-
clusions reached, but suffice it to say that
they w'ere important. Just when this
fruitful and highly promising program
of twin research was in full flower it was
uprooted and abandoned by the govem-
iiiental authorities. And this, for reasons
best left undiscussed. Now^ that the
Russian experiments are, for the time
being at least, abandoned, American in-
vestigators should by all means enter this
field of research, for the method of co-
twin control cries out for exploitation.

Statistical Methods
There is not one but many statistical

-L

'a. f r ,v i.

THE TWO PAUL HBBOLDS

KACa YOUKQ MAN WAS IGNORANT OP THE OTHER’S EXISTENCE FOR TWENTY-THREE YEARS AND WAS

REARED IN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT SURROUNDINOB THAN HIS BROTHER.

ASPECTS OF TWIN RESEARCH

109

THE ATTKACTIVE BAILEY TWIN8

ARK AS much alike AS TWO PEAS IN A POD OR AS TWO PEACHES ON A TREE.

methods of employing twins in {genetic
research. All of them, how^evcr, depend
upon our ability to distinjniish one-e^g
from two-egg twins. Much attention has
been given in recent years to attempts to
find accurate, objective methods of di-
agnosing one-egg twins. In actual jirac-
tice, experienced students of twins seem
to have but little difficulty, if care and a
sufficiently large number of characters
are employed, in diagnosing twin types.

Once having a suflficiently large group
of one-egg tw’ins, these can then be used
as a basis for determining the extent to
which hereditary characters may vary in
expression either under nearly identical
environments or under environments dif-
fering in all sorts of w’ays.

A considerable number of studies
based upon a comparison of the relative
intrapair differences between one-egg
and two-egg twins have been conducted

by both American and European work-
ers. The pioneer study in this field was
made in 1905 by E. L. Thorndike, dean
of American educational psychologists,
but his work W’as considerably hurt by
his failure to be able to diagnose twins
of the two types, and by his decision,
which he now knows to be ill-founded,
that all tw’ins belong to a continuous
series and have a common mode of origin.
Following Thorndike ^s lead, Lauterbach,
Merriman, Wingfield and Hirsch all at-
tac^ked the hereditary-environment prob-
lem and apiiroHched a more satisfactory
analysis of it.

The most recent study in this field is
that of Newman, Freeman and Holzinger.
This study published in 1937 in book
form is in most respects perhaps some-
what more exhaustive than preceding
studies and may be taken as an example
of this type of twin research. One-egg

110

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ELEANOB AND GBORGIANA

WHO, AFTER TWENTY YEAR8 ’ SEPARATION, WERE BEOUGHT TOGETHER AS A CONSEQUENCE OF THE
FACT THAT A OATHOUC SISTER WHILE TRAVELING ON A BUS MISTOOK ONE I'OR THE OTHER.

twins (50 pairs) are used as a control.
For each pair the heredity is the same
and the environment as nearly alike as
humanly possible without laboratory con-
trol. One of course assumes that any

differences between one-e(?f!r twins must
be due to differences in either prenatal
or postnatal environment or to both. If
now we take an equally large group of
same-sexed two-egg twins and find, as we

ASPECTS OF TWIN RESEARCH

111

do, that the iutrupair differences are
much greater in almost every character
than tliose of one-egg Iwiiis, we can cal-
culate the extent to which hereditary
factors alone are resiiousible for differ-
ences in two-egg twins. The method de-
veloped by my colleague, K. J. Holzinger,
is to subtract the intrapair coefficient of
correlation of two-egg twins from that
of one-egg twins and divide the re-
mainder by 1 minus the intrapair coefB-

shares of hereditary and environmental
factors responsible for observed differ-
ences may be determined with a high de-
gree of accuracy, limited only by the
accuracy of measurements and tests
used.

Another phase of our work was the
rather laborious collection of twenty
pairs of one-egg twins separated in in-
fancy and reared apart under a great
variety of different environmental con-

OECILK, MAETE, EMILTE, ANNETTE AND YVONNE DIONNE

AT ASOUT TWO YKARS OF AOE, THE ONLY KNOWN LIVING QUINTUPLETS; THEY ARE < ‘ UJENTICAL/ '

cient of correlation of two-egg twins.
This gives the percentage share of genetic
differences responsible for intrapair vari-
am^e for one character at a time. The

formula used was: ^ 2 -^! — where h<i

1 - fi*

is the percentage share of hereditary de-
termination of the observed intrapair
difference in two-egg twins, ir the intra-
pair coefficient correlation of identical
(one-egg) pairs and tV that of fraternal
(two-egg) twins. Thus for any character
measured for both groups of twins the

ditions. In this study it was found that
the intnipair differences with respect to
nearly all physical characters were no
greater than those in one-egg twins
reared together, indicating that any sig-
nifi(»ant differences in these characters
are probably determined by differences
in prenatal environment.

Intrapair differences in mental ability
and scholastic achievement were, how-
ever, considerably greater in the sepa-
rated than in unseparated pairs and
these differences were definitely cori^e-

112

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THE PAISgEB QUADBUPEETS

THE TWO ON THE LEFT HAVING BEEN DERIVED FROM ONE EOO AND EACH OF THE TWO ON THE RIGHT
FROM A DIFFERENT EGG. CONBRQT7ENTLT THE SET WAS DERIVED FROM THREE EGGS.

latcd with deforces of difference in edu- be appropriate in this general review of
cation. Temperament -emotional differ- twin research to discuss our own contri-
ences were also in many cases quite butions at greater length,
marked in the separated pairs and could The field of twin research is a rapidly
usually be referred to marked differences expanding one. Already my own private
in environment and experience. The bibliography contains titles of over five
individual case studies of these twenty hundred publications about twins and
pairs of separated one-egg twins often multiple births. There are still many
revealed the ways in which differences unsolved problems and open questions
in environment had a moulding effect in this field that would well repay
upon personality traits. It would hardly further research.

EXPLORATION OF MUMMY CAVES IN THE

ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

PART II. FURTHER EXPLORATION
By Dr. ALB§ HRDLI^KA

OrilATOR or THE DIVISION OF PHYSICAL ANTHBOPOIXKIY, U. K. NATIONAL MUSEUM,

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

Amlia

Prom the Atka natives we have
learned of a “mummy cave” on the
long: island to the east, Amlia; and on
July 4, at 4 a. m., start for the same,
with a native gruide, former Atka cfiief,
on the Talapoosa, By 8 arrive oppo-
site a cove on the northern shore. The
“cave” is on the south shore, but the
sea is rather roufrh, barometer unprom-
isinjr, and Captain unwillinjr to risk
under such conditions daujrerous south
coast. So dory takes jiarty to the cove
we see, and at 9 a. m. we start on a walk
across. The native says it is “a 2 liours’
walk.” Climb over hills, lowlands and
alon(iC a lake, partly in water, hours,
before reachinpr the place. The native
knows of the cave only “in j^eneral,”
but has jniided us well. On a jyravelly
isthmus we find a moderate-sized old
village site, and to the S. of this among
great fallen rocks two skulls. Further
on along the cliffs discover two rock
shelters, with several more skulls and
some bones, also a wooden dish over a
skull, remnants of a red kayak and few
other objects, but no cave, no mummi<‘s.
A small platform built rather ingeni-
ously in a rock-cleft above one of the
shelters did probably once hold a
mummy, but nothing is left of it — the
trappers had been here first.

Cold, drizzly; fire in a native little
half -underground lean-to nearly chokes
at first with ernioke, but we manage to
make a can of coffee. Explore cliffs and
rocks on all sides-— no other remains dis-

(‘overable. Dig a little — 2 stone imple-
ments.

In the ro(fk shelters get two pieces of
fine wood-carving, and some bone imple-
ments.

Have to depart at 4 — reach north cove
7 : 15. Dory there wuiting — ^a rough trip
to ship — have to climb uj) on emergency
matting — but all ends well. At 9 : 00
p. M. start westward, for excavations on
unknown Agatu, one of the two western-
most Aleutians.

The party on this trip visited Adak,
Attn, the Commander Islands, and was
then landed and left alone on Agatu,
where for three fruitful weeks excava-
tions were carried on in two old sites.
But the caves and especially the Ship-
rock not forgotten. On August 8
the party was taken on board the fine
new' Cutter Duane, Captain P. P. Roach,
and proceeded eastward. The first stop
was to be made at Tanaga.

Tanaoa, Ilak

Off the large island of “Tanaga,”
Makarii, the old chief of Atka and our
guide at Amlia, saw “many years ago”
a mummy cave or shelter. The informa-
tion as to the location of the cave was
rather indefinite and without any details
as to contents, but in the main probably
reliable, and so it was decided to look
for the hollow. This is how we fared:

Aug. lOf 1937. Fog. At 1 p. M. reach
off Tanaga — ^but at first the wrong bay.
Fight fog and current rest of afternoon,
without success. Anchor for night
somewhere off .the coast.

114

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Ang, 11. Hifi:her winds; less but
can see only a small part of land on left.
Ship rocks more, thouj?h not bad. Pros-
pects not jrood.

9 A. M. Fof? thickens a^ain, no land in
sip:ht any more. Ship about five miles
oflf shore, but dares not semi a boat out
in the fo^^

10 A. M. A dory sent out to recon-
noiter, under protection of ship^s sirens
— returns in half an hour without having
seen anything — could not dare to go
further. Captain very nice about it all,
will wait.

11 A, M. Fog all around, visibility
only about 200 yards in any direction.

12 to 6 p, M. Dory sent out twice —
could not prevail, once lost for a time.
Fog the same. At 4 sun partly pene-
trated, but did not show itself full, nor
dispelled.

9 p. M. No change.

Aug. 12y 6-7 : 30 A. M. At last sea
nearly free from fog. Ship has been
riding far out, now returning once more
towards land. A cape dimly visible
towards the west. Land still in haze, but
perceptible. Sea somewhat rough.

9-1 A. M. Have reached near pin-
nacles and rocks oflf land, visibility now
fairly good. Leave in the dory for a
small “black island “ somewhat over a
mile off. Circle around, find it volcanic,
(?raggy, unboardable even on the lee side,
and wholly unpromising — not high
enough, and no caves or overhangs where
water could not reach them.

Pass on to two small islands in the
western end of the “bay,’’ about three
miles from the first. The one to right,
nearer land, partly gra.ssy, partly
craggy, un propitious. The further one,

THE *'GANO»» OF VOLtJNTEBB STUDENTS
ACCOMPANYmo THE AUTHOR IN 1937 , THE TOOLS OF THIS PARTY ARE THE PICK, THE MATTOCK,
THE SHOVEL AND THE WHEELBARROW, THE DRESS CONSISTS OF RAINCOATS AND HATS, WARM
UNDER AND OUTER CLOTHING, HIGH BOOTS AND CANVAS GLOVES. LEFT TO RIGHT: WALTER WINEMAN,
PAUL OEBHART, PAUL OUOBNHBIM, SYDNEY CONNOR, ALAN MAT, STANLEY SEASHORE.

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS 115

DISKMBAHKTNG OF THK AUTHOR

WHO, NOT HAVING H18 HIP HOOTS, MtTST BE CARRIED ASHORE ON THE SHOULDERS OF A SAILOR. THR
BOAT AND ('REW ARE FROM THE COAST GUARD BOAT WHICH BROUGHT THK PARTY OVER.

vol(?anio, about 60 tVet hi^^h.

scaled — ^jretting: out of the boat iierilous
— and ej^ainined — no vestijre of anything:
human j and no cave* or crevice that could
have had any remains.

In distance — about five miles — to-
wards the east or southeast, see a point
and off there a rock with two islands —
more likely our destination; but sea
rather roufrh, 30 mile wind, must return
to ship before attempting to reach these.
Come back wet, but without any damajre.
It is 11 A. M. Ship now moves towards
the above islets and endeavors to anchor
(43 fathoms) about a mile off — but
anchor will not hold, sea is roujrher, and
so Captain decides to try Ilak first.
Have sighted it in haase to the south.
The isle has a bad reputation for storms
and dangerous rocks ; but there was
knowm to be in its cliffs a cave with
mummies. Many years ago— Mr. Wil-
lis, now of Dutch Harbor, found this

cave and saw in it, ^‘sitting around,
probably a .score of mummies. But, it
was learned later, three years ago, the
cave had been sacked by a couple of fox
trappers, who w’ere knowm to have
brought out a good deal of ‘Moot^’ —
though not the nmmmies — ^and who a
year after w^ere capsized off the place and
drowmed.

Reach off IJak — 16 miles from our an-
chorage at Tanaga. Not easy to locate a
landing place for the dory. Find, most
uuexpeetedly in this entire volcanic
region, a wholly granitic and not vol-
canic island (whitish stone), with a flat
top. Much like onp of the southwestern
mesas. Perhaps 300 feet high, grassy
slopes and foreground (north), a boul-
dery beach, many shore and off-shore
‘^bad’’ rocks. On the northwest part
see high rough cliffs. A trapper’s shack
about 100 yards from water near middle
of north shore. Bad walking in tall

116

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

grafts — ^at times some of the jiarty not
visible in the rank vegetation. Along
shore must jump like goats over boul-
ders, yet these offer the best way. In
parts the granite outcirops stand on edge,
offering broken sharp ridg(»s. "

Explore everything likely towards
northwest, and about a mile from' the
shaek loeate a eave, in a high bare rough
pinnaele, with a lot of human debris,
wood, stones, human bones, parts of four
skulls. Digging shows about 2i feet of
debris — soil, stones, more or less deeayed
wood, grass, traces of matting, stray
human and bird bones; underneath more
wood, then a good layer of debris of
mollusks (limpets), with some bird
bones, a few chipped, and one polished, ^
knives, a wooden bowl, no human bones;
and lowest down flat fire ston?s, ashes,
debris.

Cave had evidently originally been oc-
cupied, then used for a burial place.
Not long ago the whole was disturbed,
mummies and skulls taken away, bones
with remains of wooden utensils scat-
tered or thrown out. Doubtless tJie
reported mummy cave — ^the driftwood
poles and debris indicate that — but now
alDvandalized by the trappers.

We collect what is worthwdiile, and
excavate w’hole accuraiilation in the not
very large .space. Subsequently one of
my boys (May) discovers another “hole
in the rocks/’ somewhat further w’est-
ward, with six mossy skulls, some in good
condition. And another of the boys, a
former Scout (Conner), is sent on a trip
^ai^mml the island — but finds no more
man-used caves, or other traces of
human remains.

C^arry everything saved back oahu* the

OLD SITE OP UMNAK WITH PREBENT ALEUT DWELLING

NOTE THE HACK rOR DRYING FISH AND TWO PARTLY UNDERGROUND CHAMBERS, ONE USED AS THE

8WEATBATH AND THE OTHER FOR STORAGE.

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

117

IlKLL^S KITCHEN ON AMU A IS1.AND

AN EXAMPLK OK THE KXl’KHSiVK KK0810N AND KOTTflHNEHS OP THE COABT IN MANY PARTS OP THESE

ISLANDS. AN OLD BURIAL CAVE 18 CLOSE UY BUT NOT VISIBLE.

r<)(?kK ttml tlironirh the jrrass, including?
a heavy movie camera, reacliinpr hot
quarter to ei^ht, sweatinj? and wearied ;
have some hot coifee there, made by boat
men who stayed behind, with raisin
bread. At dusk depart, at 9 : 30 back on
the ship. Weather better now, wind less,
but Captain tired, has >jroue to sleep, and
so ship remains here over nij?ht.

Aug. 13, Wind weak, sea fairly good
though a swell, horwoii misty, but no
real fog. Tanaga not visible.

At 9 up— anchor and back to Tanaga.

9 : 16~wind freshens, fog envelopes
top of Ilak. Run slowly.

At 12 anchor off Tanaga again.
Rather fairly clear now, sea with smooth
heave only.

12:80— out with the dory to explore
what seemed the two rock islands close
to shore— only to find them to be but
bn>ken small promontories, connected

with the main. Explore next a grassy
island not examined on previous visit —
find it v()lcani<% rough — except for an
elevated mass covcreil with vegetation
and with a flat top. Not a vestige of
anything human. Before finishing fog
advances from land, until ship is lost
from view. Recall everybody, call the
dory M*hich liad to ride outside not to
be damaged by the heaving water on the
rocks — and return — ^nothing else to do.
The Tanaga cave remains undiscovered.

Next day search rocks off west coast
of the large island of Adak — -no eaves ;
but on the shore ah extensive old site.

Explored on . this trip also rock skelters
in Korabelni Bay, Atka Island*^ few
skulls and skeletons, but main ^‘cave’^
(rock shelter) de8i>oi1ed.

Shiprck^k

A memorable item, however, still

118

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

awaited us. This was the visit — this
time successful — ^to the great rock in the
midst of the rough Umnak Pass, known
as ‘‘Shiprock.^^ Again it will be best
to give the original notes, which preserve
a flavor that can not be duplicated later.

Aug. 19. Reach off Shiprock at 9 A. M.
Soon on a dory, and at 10:15 there.
Beach all huge rocks. Find the little
landing place Krukhov told about, go up
steep slopes to overhanging cliffs and
explore. Island larger than seems from
distance, shore very rough. Luckily but
little siirf.

Soon find a great long rock overhang,
and in it a structure of driftwood, with
two skulls and some attached bones
visible; and before long see it is an un-
disturbed deposit of mummies and
burials. Excavate intensively whole
day. Boat brings lunch and remaining
boys. A great harvest, next to that of
last year on Kagamil — and as then at
practically the last day of the trip !

There were two separate shelters here

with burials. In the main one, the
bodies had been placed on a structure of
driftwood poles and on a big portion of
a whale skull. On this base lay three
whale scapulae, then mummies, and over
all this was an inclined roof of parallel
partly dressed poles leaning against the
wall ; and this ‘‘roof ’’ had once been cov-
ered with skins of sea-lions.

To the left of this main part were
about five feet of later burials, males on
top, females and children farther to the
left and lower.

The mummies were much as those at
Kagamil. but there \rere no children in
their carriers and nothing remained in
entirely wdiole condition. The bodie.s
had been less well .strapped, also, and
there was less matting; but two of the
mummies below their outer skin cover
showed remnants of highly decorated
skin dress and matting.

Had to send back for more sacks and
burlap and cord. Quite a haul, and
skulls of mummies all of the oblong^

MUMMY SHfiLTEH ON BHIPBOCK, UMNAK PASS

WITH DEPOSIT OP MUMMIES AT EIGHT BEIOW AN OVXEHANOINO LXDOB. ON THE LEFT AND BELOW,
AMONG THE ROCKS, OUR DORV MAY BE SEEN. APPROACH TO THE PLACE IS OFTEN IMPOSSIBLE.

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

119

pre-Aleut, variety. A highly important
find, and undisturbed, only aflPerted
age — though not excessively ancient.
No trace of white man’s influence, and
no disease save arthritis.

Had to hurry — ship wanted to leave
at 5 — but after all stayed for us till
after 6. Officers and men with us were
very helpful. It is hard to give credit
enough to the Coast Guard for all their
aid.

Good nianv of the female and chil-
dren’s skulls on the side of the mummy
structure showed the Aleut type — evi-
dently later burials.

In second shelter, marked on surface
by two posts and a nicely dressed cross-
bar, only regular burials, no wrappings,
no objects, about six or more bodies and
all Aleuts.

Evening, Had once more to telegraph
for large barrels. Everything now
stacked on deck, as last year, even
though not quite so much.

As we finished, fog began to invade
everything once more, and before we
reached the ship with the last load the
Shiprock could be seen no more.

When we reached the ship-- 6 : 30
p. M. — tliey were hoisting the anchor —
water said to have been over 100 fathoms.
This neee.ssitated the dory’s “staying
off“ in the now rough water for over
half an hour. Tossing and rocking so
much until the spine, from so much
bending from side to side, felt like in a
moderate attack of lumbago.

Shiprock, 1938

Thanks, once more, to the Coast
Guard, the search of main previously
found burial caves could be resumed,
and supplemented by that for new ones.
The party on the small Cutter Ariadne^
Captain H. W. Stinchcombe, left with
the expedition June 1st, and June 2nd
reached once more the Shiprock in the
Umnak Pass.

June 3, 9 A. M. Spent fair night, now

MtTMMY DEPOSIT ON RHIPROCK ISLAND

THE MUMMIES AttE LOCATED ON THE RAFTERS
UNDER THE ROCK LEDGE ON THE RIGHT. SIDNEY
CONNOR AND ALAN MAY, TWO MEMBERS OF THE
K.XPEDITION, MAY BE SEEN.

on dory for Shiprock. Cloudy, but
signs of clearing. Sea so far moderate.

10 A. M. Have rea<*hed the rock, found
everything as we left it. Excavate in
farther depressions below overhang.
Soon find more bones, Aleut burials.
Continue till 12 : 30, when boat brings
captain and lunch.

All skeletal remains found to-day
from early Russian period — some large
and small white glass beads deep among
them. Most skulls and bones in poor
condition, number of skulls broken to
pieces. Some mixture of oblong (pre-
Aleut) with rounded (Aleut) heads.
The two strains have evidently inter-
mingled on Umnak, and remnants of the
larger pre- Aleut people were still here
on the advent of the Russians.

With the bones found four flat stone
lamps, a number of obsidian arrow
points and scrapers, and a few small
chipped knives of other stone. One of
the lamps has a handle, to the right of
front, a turtle-like head and neck. An-

120

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

other, larger, is trian^nilar. All of very
moderate depth, fair to jrood workman-
ship, dark to black stone, resemblinj^
those of Kashef2:a.

At our old rock-shelter, durinfj: lunch,
found odd petro^lyplis on one of the
larjre rocks. Also red paintings — lines
and curves-““On various parts of the base
of the whale skull that we pot out of tiie
shelter last year. Did not see these arti-
facts last season due to dirt on the
objects.

Exjylore all arouinl tfie rock — no caves
or other rock shelters.

Start back p. m. Day clear, beauti-
ful view of the S.K. ITmnak as well as

ALKUTIAN MUMMY, FllOM RHTPROCK

ALt THK8K MUMMIES WEEK BURIED IN THE ‘‘CON-
TRACTED'^ rOHITlON, DRESSED IN SKIN GARMENTS
COVERED WITH MATTING OR SKINS AND TIED,

the Uualaska volcanoes; but windy and
water now rouKh, with preat current.
Captain, fearinp accident, has us dis-
charped on the island opposite (Umnak),
and with us walks aboiit 5 miles over
beaches, rocks, tundra, Muth stiff wind
apainst us. Have to cross a swift thiph-
de^ stream, could hardly keep upripht.
Walk takes over 2.J hours. Then dory
picks us up, throuph surf, and we start
on rouph trip to the cutter. Before we
can reach it however are caiipht by a
“ willy- wow, ’ * violent localized wind,
drivinp cold spray at limes clear over
our heads. All wet. Bump into cutter
and there is quite a time in pettinp us
out and the dory on the ship ; fortunately
dory new, men efficient and so no bad
damape. But a trip not for weaklinps.

After 6, sup]>er — not much appetite
after that walk and run. Stay ov<*rnipht
at anchor — a pale, and sea rouph.

Kaqamil

Junv 5. Bripht inorniup. Umnak
NW. Volcano, Vsevidov, plorious. Fi-
nally pet to inner harbor of Nikolski —
was too rouph yesterday. Arranpe for
later work — pet a couple of specimens
from boys — and after 9 start once more
for Kapamil, to satisfy Anally about
hazy report of additional cave.

Heach after 1— divide party — explore
coasts for over two miles to northeast
and up to near vertical cliffs to west — ^no
cave. But a small old village near
trapper’s hut and another in a north-
east bight — ^neither important. Exam-
ine also rock shelter in side of hill behind
and to west of hut — ^nothing there.

Many beautiful views during the day
of the Umnak volcano, and somewhat
also of Mt. Carlyle. Once saw, too, the
upper part of Mt. Cleveland, with a
small wreath of smoke from top. Could
not revist our caves, which still attract —
perhaps later in season.

June 6, 8 P. m. Start once more for
Amlia. Sea fairly good at first, but soon

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

121

THE “nANCJ” Lr>!(MlINH AT THE Ml'MMY SHELTER ON 8HIPBOCK IN 1937

THE niGEHTIVE OROANS OF PERSONS IN THESE REGIONS ARK NOT PARTICULAR, IF THERE ARE SUB-
STANTIAL SANDWKHIES AND PLENTY OF HOT COFFEE.

3M)ujrl», lurjre waves, ship rolled imich,
kicked, humped, shivereil. Whole iii^ht
so, more or less, and morniiijr worse. At
breakfast everyth injr sliding and kiiock-
iiijr — no meal. By near 9 pretty near
siek; but at 10 enter Svieehiiikov’s har-
bor in south coast of Amlia — a f*Teat
relief to all ; but weak, and stomach bad.

After lunch — poor luiudi — mouth
muddy — -leave for headland. Search
and climb over slippery rocks, and at
last find the cave — a bijr orifice in base
of hujre basalt bluff, in a ravine. Cavity
larp:ely filled with rocks, araon^? wdiich
traces of some mummies — (!Ould not have
held much — but what there was has been
despoiled. A search amoiij? and under
the rocks jrives two damag:ed female
Aleut skulls, some bones and a nice larf?e
wooden dish. Search all neif^hborhood
— ^nothinji' further.

Kanaoa

Jaar 9. Heard of a burial cave on the
Kanaka Island. Leave Amlia 4 a. m.
Kouyrh. Ship rolls and tosses so that
sleep or meals impossible.

Afternoon fo^ in addition, but sea
sligrhtly better, though bif? ujyly weaves.
After 5 a partial clearinfi:, just enoujrh
to enable us to pass safely into the little
Kanaka harbor. Entrance narrow,
rocks both sides, wreck of the IT. S. S.
Swallow on those of the left, dismal,
washed and sprayed over by angry
waves. A sombre sight.

June 10. Gale from NW, impossible
to lower dory. Men of little local Navy
station know several sites — we get a
number of skulls and a skeleton — ^but no
cave. Hear of one on south coast of the
island, but distant and information not
definite enough.

122

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Ilak

June 11. Mornin^^ quiet ; sun, nice,
mild. Leave 7 a. m, for another visit to
Ilak to make sure nothiuj? was left — ^biit
stop for some time to examine the WTeck
of the Swallow and salvajre some thinjfs.

Reach Ilak after lunch, explore till 6.
Revisit the two eaves — nothinj^ left in
them but a few^ stray bones. On a bJuflf
at the soutlieast end, however, facing a
smaller island, I find an old village site,
not known of before.

In the afternoon sky gets clouded,
southeast wind rises,, gets stronger, and
by the time we are through ship had to
be moved out of the wind. A rough get^
ting back and especially aboard ; but all
ends well.

To-morrow Amchitka. No possibility
as to Tanaga.

Last Visit to Kaqamil

Between June 11 and August 10 the
expedition excavated at Amchitka and
Umnak, and surveyed for old sites on
the Commander Islands. On Aug. 10,
on the Cutter Shoshone, Captain J.
Trebes, r., we reached once more the
Ponr-Mountain Group, to have a last
look at our eaves.

The weather is rough and foggy.
Reach the islands, but can not anchor —
keej) going about till morning, then
anchor near foot of Mt. Cleveland (but
partly visible at any time). During day
a bad SW ‘^fulP' gale — ^no possibility of
doing anything — wind 60 miles an hour.

Aug. 11. Gale over, though still much
sw^ell. Ship goes over to Kagamil, an-
chors off the rough shore, and soon we
reach with dory the cove where w^e em-

AN ALEUT COUPLE IN ALASKA

THE MAN IS WEARING A TYPICAL OUTER GARMENT WITH DECORATIONS, AND A TYPICAL DECORATED
WOODEN HAT. THE DRESS OP THE WOMAN HAS ALREADY BEEN MODtPIED BY RUSSIAN INFLUENCE.
THE MAN REGRETTABLY DOES NOT APPEAR TO BE AN ALEUT BUT IS RATHER A NEGRO IK ALEUT CLOTH*

INO AND HAT, (AN OLD DESIGN BY CRWS.)

MUMMY CAVES OP THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

123

barked the setjond day in 1936, and are
confronted with the same old hu^e bad
slippery boulders. Examine two miles
of roujrhest shore, to beyond warm cave,
revisit both caves, and excavate, p:et in
recesses of rocks 5 more skulls, some
bones, 2 long bone dart harpoons, a stone
lamp and a few other specimens. Light
rain most of day, get all w^t from grass;
but in warm cave fairly comfortable,
and at 4 back to the ship. Officers and
men from ship hel]>ed again all along,
all most friendly. In the warm cave,
below all the mummies removed in 1936,
under a great slal) — it took four of us to
lift it — found an additional cremation
burial of a woman and a child, doubtless
sacrificed slaves. Layer of burnt bones
however exlili^d over a large space
farther — ^below^ all former contents of
main part of cave — and showed the cal-
cined remains of more victims — appar-

ently almost all females — ^jmssibly as
many as ten individuals. An interesting
fact was that the fire in which the bodies
were burnt was not that of wood, which
in these parts is non-existent, but of cto-
cellous whale bones rich in fat. The
bones of the cremated were .short and
rather weak. Aleut-like; but one much
burnt skull in pieces, taken for recon-
struction, has sliown the type of the pre-
Aleut i)eople. The next day back to
Umnak, where we found a whole great
pre-Aleut mound.

Scientific Kest^lts

The scientific results of our cave ex-
ploration in the Aleutian Islands can not
as yet be fully appraised, for it wdll take
long for the materials to be studied.
What can be said in general, is as fol-
lows :

Notwithstanding the ravages of time,

AN ALEUT PAIB, SHOWING THE TYPICAL NATIVE MALE AND FEMALE DRESS

AS WKLL AS TH» TYPICAL ALEUT WOODEN HAT. THE PIOURB ON THE BIGHT SHOWS THE PHYBIOG*
NOICY OF A WHITE WOMAN — PERHAPS A RUBSIAN-ALEUT HALF-BREED. IN THE BACKGROUND THERE
MAY BE BEEN TWO baidarki-^^ATlVn CANOES. (AN OLD DESIGN BY CH0RI8.)

124

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ALEUTS OF MIXED BLOOD

MATNLV RUSSIANS, ON THK ISLAND OF UMNAK.
THR8E PRESKNT’DAY * ' ALEUTS * * ABE A WEAKENED
LOT, AND ARE SUBJECT TO MANY WHITE MAN 's

DISORDERS.

and extensive vandalism by trapfiers ami
other white men, a coiisiftemble amount
of the old remains, skeletal and even cul-
tural, have been preserved and saved.

Tlie nn ruber of skeletons and skulls
from the found eaves reaches several
hundred. The mummies alone counted
over 70. The latest of these remains are
doubtless from the earlier part of the
Uussian period, the earliest materially
antedate it ; but none are older than the
second millenium, and probably the sec-
ond half of the second millenium, of our
era. As none of the other mummies or
remnants of mummies that so far were
found in the Aleutian caves stiowed any
greater ap:e, it is inevitable to conclude
that the practice in the islands was not
very ancient. It is true that there may

be mummy caves not yet discovered and
the (?ontenta of which may throw further
ligfht on the subject. It is further quite
probable that the mouths of other such
caves have been sealed forever by falls
of rock during earthquakes. But bad
the practice been ancient at least some of
the^ caves that were found would have
shown it, for they were old formations.

The mummifications and cave burials
were practiced by the Aleuts up to and
for some time even after the advent of
the Russians. The proofs of this are the
presence in a fcAv of the latest burials
ill the Ka^rainil eaves of syphilis, which
was wholly absent in the mass of the
earlier material ; also the find in one of
the eaves, with superficial remains, of
remnants of an old-fashione<i “shoe-

THE HOT MUMMY CAVE ON SAGAMIL

APPEARS FROM THE OtTTSI0E TO BE A mrOS SLIT
m THE LAVA DEPOSITS, BUT INSIDE IT ENLARGES
INTO A GOOD SIZED IRREGULAR CAVITY, TWO MEM-
BERS OP THE EXPEDITION MAY BE SEEN IN FRONT
Of THE ENTRANCE TO THE CAVE.

MUMMY OAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

125

ALKUTK OF MIXED BLOOD, DARTLY RUSSIAN

TWO or THE STUUDIKR YOUNO MEN, WORKING IN THE SEAL INDUSTRY ON THE PRIBILOV ISLANDS.

maker’s'’ iron-bladed knife, and also of
a pieee of a Xndiite man’s eord.

The introdlietion of the methods of
both mnnnnifieation and eave burials was
apparently dne to the easily identified
broad-headed Aleuts, The islands, it is
now definitely established, had had for
many liundreds of years before the

Aleuts eame, an extensive pre-Alont
population of taller, oblonjr-headed,
more Indian-like people. Jt is now cer-
tain that all the older sites tliroufrhoiit
the islands belonp: to the pre- Aleuts,
thoujjrh Aleut remains may be found in
many on the top. The Aleuts, it seems,
eon Id hardly have been in the islands for

THE INHABITANTS OF ATTU VILLAOE

ON ATTU ISLAND, WESTERN-MOST OF THE ALEUTIAN GROUP. (U. 8. NAVY.)

126

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

MOUNT V8EV1DOV ON UMNAK ISLAND

ONE OP THE KOST SHUKIXO VOLCANOES. THE TOP OP THE MOUNTAIN VAS BLOWN OPT LONO AOO. (C. & 0 . SI'BVET, 1938.)

MtJMMY OAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

127

more than perhapH three hundred years
before the advent of the Russians. The
{Treat “middens” which by Dali and
Joehelson have been thou^rht to be Aleut
now appear jTenerally with but an Aleut
veneer but with the bulk pre-Aleut.

There is no indication that these
sturdier pre-Aleuts perished or were
massacred by the newcomers. They
probably moved eastward, to the conti-
nent. They had not practiced mummifi-

In the Kagamil caves, while the Aleuts
predominated, there were both types and
some intermediates. One cremated slave
in the warm cave was, it could be deter-
mined, pre-Aleut, while the others, so
far as could be told, were of the Aleut
type. And similar indications of a brief
coexistence of the two types were given
by other islands. Shortly after the ad-
vent of the Aleuts the pre-Aleut strain
disappears; yet to this day a few traces

ALEUTS OF MIXED BLOOD

THE MAN IN THE CENTER COMES NEAR TO THE OLD TYPE. THE REST HAVE MORE OR LESS WHITE

BLOOD, MAINLY RUSSIAN.

cation or cave burial during their stay
in the islands before the advent of the
Aleuts. But, especially on Umnak and
the more western islands, the last pre-
Aleuts who were still there when the
Aleuts e.ame, mingled and mixed with
tliese and adopted some of their customs,
including to some extent— -especially at
Umnak, it is evident- — ^t-he new form of
burial. Thus at Shiprock (Umnak Pass)
the mummies— males — were pre-Aleut,
while directly by them there was a mass
of burials of Aleut women and children.

of it seem to occur among the living
western Aleuts.

Prom where the Aleuts brought or got
the usages of mummification and cave-
deposits of the bodies, is uncertain. No
such habits as yet are known of in north-
eastern Asia; and similar procedures
further to the eastward — on Kadiak, in
Prince William Sound, on the islands
of SE. Alaska and British Columbia —
do not appear any older or even as old.
The whole custom may have gradually
developed among the Aleuts themselves.

POUR-MOUNTAIN ISLANDS, LOOKING SOUTHWEST PROM UUAGA

nr. CLEVELAND IS OK’ THE LEFT, UT. CAKLYLB THE SIOHT. BEBBEKT ISLAND IS VISIBLE IN THE DISTANCE

MUMMY CAVES OF THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS

129

Nothinf]^ whatever of that nature is
known from amon^ir the Eskimo, or the
mainland Alaska Indians.

The mummy bodies without exception
were in the typical contracted or “ fetus-
in -the-utero’^ position, with the limbs
folded close to the body, the hands under
or on the face, the head bent a little for-
ward. The little children were in skin-
or basketry-like carriers, premature
births in small bundles or wooden dishes.

Specimens with the mummies were
numerous, and some were of hiprh inter-
est. They ranged from whole kayak
skeletons — paddles, war-shields, pieces
of armor, garments, dart-shafts, baskets,
bags and a wonderful assortment of mat-
ting, some exquisitely made and decor-
ated, to fine labrets and spoons, and
some common stone lamps and utensils.
The abundance and variety of the per-
ishable objects amounted to a veritable

MOUNT TULIK, A 8UEKP1NG VOLCANO, ON UMNAK ISLAND

TAKEN PROM UMNAK PASS. (C. A 0. SURVEY, 1938.)

The bodies were wrapjied in sea-otter
fur or bird-skin robes (parkas) and
mats, the whole bundle being tietl into
another mat or a sea-lion skin, laced
together or tied with interestingly made
cords, or with ropy kelp.

The bundles so far as perceptible had
not in general been suspended, but lay
close in a mass or on rafters ; some may
possibly have bween hung from the drift-
wood posts in the cold Kagamil cave,
but no mark remained of such a suspen-
sion.

resurrection of an important part of the
old industries and give a radically new
light on the Aleut culture.

The adult mummies, some still in a
very good condition, showed each a
rough opening, some through the peri-
neum, some through the upper part of
the chest, through which doubtless the
viscera were extracted. In no case, how-
ever, from any locality, was there any
remnant of a stuffing of the body. Such
stuffing, if practiced, must Aerefore
have been limited to some locality from

130

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

whiinh there is no representation, or has
in the course of time completely disap-
peared.

In at least two cases, both from Kaga-
mil, there was preserved an individual
skull, once in wrappings, once in a
wooden dish in moss. The latter, which
alone so far w^as examined, is the skull
of a young adult female without the
mandible, lying snugly in the moss on its
right side. It was evidently preserved
thus already as a skull. These may have
been trophies, or skulls of especially
loved or esteemed individuals.

The deposits in the warm cave on
Kagamil gave also an abundance of loose
feathers of several varieties of birds, a
good many dried wings, and even some
dried whole birds. These were doubtless
offerings. One wooden dish contained
no less than 18 dried wings of the ‘‘pine-
grosbeak,’* another a dried brown hawk
skin. And there were a number of dishes
with odds and ends of woman’s work.

Among many loose skulls in the
humid cold cave of Kagamil was one,
normally developed, of a very extraordi-
nary size (2005-2010 cc capacity). As
there were no outstandingly large boiies
in the cave, this skull could not be
attributed to any giant, which makes it
the more remarkable.

The study and description of all the
cultural material will require much ap-
plication and must be left to the experts
on such matters.

Conclusions

Our expeditions in the Aleutian
Islands, under the auspices of the Smith-

sonian Institution, have located and ex-
plored a series of mummy or burial caves
and rock-shelters, which yielded collec-
tively a large amount of both skeletal
and cultural materals.

The mass of these materials are from
pre-Russian Aleuts ; but the latest
burial^ in the caves or shelters were
post-Russian; while among the earlier
ones there was a scattering of the pre-
Aleut people.

The mummies and burials included
both sexes and all ages; but there was
noted here and there some segrega-
tion.

The mummies in general had not been
suspended, but laid one upon the other,
or side by side, on tiers of driftwood.

The adult mummies showed openings,
either in the lower part of the pelvis
(perineum) or in the upper part of the
thorax, through ivhich presumably the
internal organs were removed; but in
the specimens found there were no re-
mains of any stuffing.

Beneath or to the side of the mummies
and burials there were repeatedly found,
both in the eaves and the rock shelters,
cremated remains of humans, probably
slaves, but mainly women and ch^dren.

The cultural materials, recovered show
a high degree of ability and even artis-
try, not excelled in similar lines any-
where else on the American or other con-
tinents.

The introduction of the practice of
partial mummification of bodies in the
Aleutian Islands must be attributed to
the Aleuts; but where or when it origi-
nated remains a problem for future
determination.

THE WHITE DWARF STARS

B; Dr. DUK RBim.

uumni HooouaoK obsubtatobt, mnvmtarrT or wBaiMU

"Twiakle, twlnUe, littla star,

How I wonder wbnt you are

Some twenty-five yean ago the fint
white dwarf star was discovered, a
spherical mass of gas with a familiar
white-hot surface, of some 8,000° abso-
lute and a presumably acceptable interior
temperature of several million degrees,
but ... of a density several thousand
times greater than- the earth's precious
solid platinum.

In spite of refined researches with
great telescopes, even to-day the total
number known of this astounding type
of Stan is a mere score, a fact illustrating
the difSculties met by the observational
astronomer. Greater still are the ob-
stacles confronting the theorist attempt-
ing to solve the riddle of the internal
constitution of these stan. It must be
said, therefore, that the problem is still
fftr from a solution, and perhaps has not
advanced beyond a rather elemmitary
stage. However, from its spectacular
beginniag it has been a problem of para-
mount importance to physicists as well
as to astronomen.

No doubt the problem presented by
the vrhite dwarf stan deserves even wider
attention, in view of its dose connection
with theories of stellar evoluti<m, theo-
ries of atomic structure, and other
problems of more general interest, '^ile
writing this, I find that my contention is
proved by a full page artide in a recent
issue of "Amasing Myst^y Funnies.”
The reader will find there, immediatdy
preceding the “Phantom of the Fair,”
the faotuitl desodption of a vdiite dwarf,
baterestins^ adorned with pictures of
jrteam shovels and derricks for moving
ponderable things. B^nowing that the
sddte dwuf stan have penetrated the

American home, I fed justified and
encouraged to carry on with this artide.

Let us go back, not a mere twenty
years, but rather some twenty centuries
and note that observations of stan’ posi-
tions were made by Timoeharis, Aristil-
lus and Hipparchus, a few hundred yean
before the birth of Christ. 'When, in
1718, Halley compared these early posi-
tions, as given in Ptolemy’s Almagest,
with the observations made in his day,
he discovered that small changes had
taken place. The “fixed” stars are in
very dow motion with respect to one
another, and we have here the discovery
of the “proper motions” of the stan,
a phenomenon which Halley described
as “not unworthy of consideration.”
Proper motion of a star is its apparent
motion across the line of sight as seen
from the earth.

The brightest star in the sky, Sirius,
one of the stars studied by Halley, in a
curious and devious way gave rise to the
problem of white dwarfs under discus-
sion. More than a century after Halley’s
discovery, Bessel, in 1844, announced the
variability of the proper motion of
Sirius, which he had suspected since 1884.
Sirius while traveling through qiace,
rather than going straight like a well-
behaved star, was found instead to move
along a wavy line ; not in a short period
or with large waves, but in SO years and
a barely observable variation from a
straight line. The influence of a sinister
companion would indeed explain the
erring behavior of Sirius, for Sirius and
a companion would revolve around their
oommon center of gravity as they move
through space. Only '&e companion,
though quite systematic in its gravitative
effects on Sirius, had been riurive from
observers. Its position was neatiy oom-

132

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

puted by Safford, in 1861, and the next
year it was actually seen close to its pre-
dicted position by Alvan O. Clark, the
lens maker, in testing the refractor now
at the Dearborn Observatory. Sirius and
its companion, conveniently called Sirius
A and B, then became easy prey for a
score of investigators, all hungry for
facts about this exceedingly interesting
system. Soon the orbits of A and B
about their common center of gravity
were computed, as also their relative
masses. The total mass, through Kep-
ler’s hasmionic law, is known when we
combine their known distance from us
with the distance between them and the
period of their revolution about their
center of gravity. The determination of
the parallax at the Leander McCormick
Observatory is one of the several values
obtained to anchor the star down in
space. And also the apparent brightness
was studied at McCormick by Dr.
Vyssotsky, who was able to secure excel-
lent photographs of this exceedingly
difScult object, in close proximity to
brilliant Sirius A but some 10,000 times
fainter.

Let us now return to the results of the
careful weighing of Sirius A and B. We
find that the total mass of both stars
is 3.39 times the sun’s mass, Sirius A
getting 2.44 and Sirius B 0.95, or almost
that of the sun. And at once we notice
how strikingly the near equality of the
masses contrasts with the enormous dif-
ference in rate of radiation — a mass ratio
of 3.7 to 1 and a radiation ratio of
10,000 to 1. Or, if we want to compare
this faint companion with our sun, we
have to explain the fact that Sirius B
is more than 200 times fainter than the
sun although it is of approximately the
same mass. This difSculty could easily
be overcome by assuming Siriiu B to be
a red dwarf star of so-called M type, t.e.,
of low surface temperature, say about
3,000° absolute. Its inseparable friend-
ship with the white star Sirius of type

AO, corresponding to a surface tempera-
ture of 11,000°, need not worry ns.
Truly peace reigned supreme again after
all the blame for Sirius’ disorderly con-
duct had duly been placed upon its
companion.

But this quiet proved to be only the
lull before the storm which broke loose in
1915 'when Adams made another start-
ling discovery on this star. He succeeded
in photographing the spectrum of Sirius
B, a very difficult observation even with
the great reflectors of the Mount Wilson
Observatory. He classified the spectral
type as A7, corresponding to an effective
surface temperature of about 8,000°, and
therefore of somewhat later” type than
Sirius A; in other words not quite so
white hot, but with a touch of yellow.
The world — ^that is to say the small
brotherhood of astronomers on their
planet, to be more specific — ^became badly
upset by this announcement. Let us
analyze why this sub-class No. 7 of type
A caused such a commotion. We must
first introduce the bolometric magnitude,
a measure of the total radiation over the
entire spectrum of a star, as contrasted
with the visual magnitude, which gives
the star’s energy only in visual light, a
rather limited range of wave-length in
the yellow.

Sirius A, of type AO or effective sur-
face temperature of 11,000°, has an in-
trinsic brightness given by the absolute
bolometric magnitude 0.97 on a scale on
which the sun has the value 4.85. Trans-
lating this into ordinary terms, we find
that Sirius A radiates 36 times more
energy than the sun. Since the effective
surface temperature of the sun is 5,700°,
we find that the radiation of Sirius A per
unit area is 15 times that of the sun, since
radiation per unit area is proportional
to the fourth power of the temperature.
Therefore the ratio of the areas of Sirius
A and the sun is 36/16 » 2.4, and, there-
fore, the ratio of their radii is the square
root of 2.4, or 1.5. We are satisfied that

THE WHITE DWAEF STABS

138

Sirius A with this radius and a mass of
2.44 solar masses may be considered a
very reasonable star.

Let us now apply the same calculation
to our trouble-maker, Sirius B. It is of
type A7, or has a temperature of 8,000®.
Comparing its faint absolute bolometric
magnitude with that of the sun, we find
that its energy output is only 1/360 that
of the sun. Yet, because of its high tem-
perature the radiation per unit area of
Sirius B must be considerable; in fact,
8.8 times that of the sun. This leads to

a ratio for the areas of = 1/1400

and for the ratio of the radii 1/37.
That is, Sirius B is found to be a dwarf
star with a radius of only 19,000 kilo-
meters, or less than three times the radius
of the earth. This may sound startling.

but matters become definitely alarming
when we realiae that an amount of gas*
eous matter practically equal to the mass
of the sun is crowded into a sphere with
a volume 50,000 times smaller than that
of the sun. If we have managed up to
now to stand up under the strain, we may
sit down and calculate the densities of
Sirius A and B. We fibnd that the aver-
age density of Sirius A is about that of
water, but that the little Sirius B has a
density about 70,000 times as great — a
cubic inch of it at the surface of the eaHh
would weigh roughly a ton.

At this point Eddington admitted that
it would seem reasonable to dismiss the
conclusion as absurd. However, he chose
to attack the problem theoretically.
Among the first approaches was to find
whether the certain consequences of Ein-

lao*

ATPABBOT OIBIT OF 8IBXUS B ABOUND S1B1U8 A. THE PBBIOD OF BXVOLUnON X8 50 TBABS.

134

THE SOIENTIPIO MONTHLY

WAVE uonoNs or gntros 4 (ruLi> ookvk) Am
aiBIUB B (D4SBID CUBVS). TBX OBNTBB Or QBAT*

irr or tbb btstbu tbatxiiB 4U>wa thx stbaiobt
UNX AT TnnroBU sfxxd.

stem’s theory of relativity actually ex-
isted. When light waves pass through
a gravitational field their frequency lA
decreased; in other words lines in the
spectrum will be shifted toward the red.
Since the effect is proportional to the
mass and inversely proportional to the
radius of the attracting body, we find
that Sirius B provides an excellent test
case, because the predicted effect is 84
times that of the sun. This' would pro-
duce a shift in the spectral lines corre-
sponding to a velocity in the line of sight
of about 20 kilometers per second. For-
tunately we are dealing with a double
star system, and hence by making differ-
ential measures between ^e spectral lines
of A and B, the line of sight velocity of
the system as a whole does not enter into
the picture. Adams observed a shift of
23 kilometers per second, which leaves us,
after allowing for 4 kilometers per second
due to orbital motion, with 19 kilometers

per second as the obsorved relstivitgr die*
jfiacement As Bddington explained, the
observation by Adams killed two birds
with one stone, not only in giving a splen-
did confirmation of Binstein’s relativity
displacement, but also in proving the
extremely dense condition of Sirius B.

How, to explain this condition is an-
other matter. Eddington reasoned that
the only satisfactory solution would be
in assuming the gas to be in a state of
complete ionisation; that is, the atoms
are not only stripped of their outer elec-
trons but of their inner ones as well.
Under normal conditions the electrons
remain in their places and keep their
proper distances, leaving a great deal of
empty space in the atom of which they
are members. Under extreme ionisation
they become independent individuals and
are free to crowd together into the super-
dense material which constitutes the
white dwarf interior. At once Edding-
ton was confronted with a new riddle.
How can the gaseous matter cool down
and finally turn into the state of an ordi-
nary solid composed of atomst In the
change into atoms the star will have to
expand to a radius ten times larger
against the force of gravitation, and
therefore it will require energy in order
to cool! From where is this energy ex-
pected to come when ultimately the sup-
ply from the interior becomes exhausted t

Quoting Eddington, we must indeed
“imagine a body continually losing heat
but with insufficient energy to grow
cold!’’ “I do not see,” remarked Ed-
dington, “how a star which has once got
into this compressed condition is ever
going to get out of it.”

The solution as given by Fowler in
1926, sounds simple enough. The star
never does get out of this condition, but
with its high density and relatively low
surface temperature must be considered
a gas in “degenerate” state. Work by
Fermi, Dirac, and later by Lindemann,
has b^ utilised by Milne, t^o points
out that the ultimate fate of the partides

THE WHITE DWABF STABS

135

in Bueh a state is complete organization.
We shall then have a manifestation of the
highest degree of atomic order and regi-
mentation. Freedom is non-existent,
the final state represents atomic civiliza-
tion in its highest form — or its lowest
form, if my hearers prefer,” quoting
Milne from his Halley lecture, delivered
on 19 May, 1932. According to Fowler,
the white dwarf at the end of its life, in
other words, completely degenerate and
at the absolute zero, is analogous to one
gigantic molecule in its lowest quantum
state. The meaning of temperature has
vanished ; it may well be called zero.

The reader wiU observe that this final
state offers a condition for which the ex-
tent of ionization may at the same time
be called complete and zero! The par-
ticles, first liberated under a communistic
white dwarf regime can only find that
ultimately they must die in complete
subordination, to the totalitarian state of
the “black” dwarf. To reach this final
stage of “black” dwarf, Milne suggests
that the star in its white dwarf state con-
sists of a degenerate core surrounded by
a shell of ordinary gas. This non-de-
generate shell, in cooling would exhibit
the gradual reddening of the star.
Simultaneously, its composing matter
would gradually turn from the normal
into the degenerate state, until finally the
entire star had become degenerate.

We must now do great injustice to fur-
ther valuable theoretical investigations
by leaving these aside in order to use the
remaining space for a review of impor-
tant recent observational work.

In surveying the spectra of the known
nearer stars, and of those suspected of
being near-by, Euiper and others have
discovered a considerable number of
white dwarf stars. Because of their small
size, the stars are faint, in spite of their
comparative nearness, as stellar distancoi
go, making the difiSculty of detection very
great. Whiteness ‘of these faint, pre-
munably near-br etars is, therefore, the

first criterion. Spectral characteristieB,
such as lines widened by the Static effect
and of unusually great intensity in the
violet, are practically conclusive. If the
star lies within reach of the great “paral-
lax” tdescopes, the determination of its
distance will serve to settle matters defi-
nitely. Not only for Sirius B, but also
for four other white dwarf stars, was the
parallax determined at the McCormick
Observatory. For two of Kuiper's re-
cently discovered stars the distances, sub-
stantiating the white dwarf character,
have been determined by the writer.
Several more stars are under observation,
leaving untouched only those for which,
on account of their extreme faintness,
exposure times would become prohibitive.

The white dwarfs found up to date,
though small in number, show condu-
sively some degree of variety in their
spectra, some being bluer, others more
yellow. Knowledge of their intrinsic
luminosities, from apparent brightaess
and parallax, is imperative in order to
study their place in the scheme of stellar
evolution.

SIRIUS A

xEurm suitcTSBB or snius a, tbs sum amb
snms B. snius a has a bass 8.4 tibss tba*
or sntus b waioa nr tusk has a jiass squAl,

TO THAT or TBS BUM.

196

THE SCUBNTIFIO MONTHLY

06 ftO 68 AO A 9 ro rs 60 65 HO Hf MO Mf

THE ABSOLUTE MAGNITUDES AND 6PECTBAL TYPES

FOE 1206 STABS FOB WHICH PAEALLAXES HAVE BEEN BETEElfmEB AT THE LEAKDEE HeOOElCIOS
0B8EEVAT0EY. THE TBEXS POZHTS IN THE LOWEE LEFT-RANI) PART OF THE PIAORAM BELONO TO

WHITE BWAEF STABS.

I will not discuss all the established stars, No. 8247 in the Eone of 70^ north*
white dwarf cases in detail, but will men* em declination of the Astrographic Cata*
tion some of the interesting incidents logue, was assigned by Kuiper, on the
that occurred in the course of their dis* basis of its peculiar spectrum, an effeetiTe
covery. surface temperature of 28,000®. Since

There are, for instance, some cases the distance of this star had been deter*
where the spectrum is entirely devoid of mined, its intrinsic brightness could be
lines, just continuous. One of these derived. Bealudng that the latter is pro*

THE WHITE DWAEF STABS

187

portional to the square of the radius and
the fourth power of the surface tempera-
ture, this relation was utilized to derive
the value of the radius. It was found to
be equal to one half of the earth* $ radius,
making this star the smallest known. A
direct determination of the mass was not
possible, but from the theoretical rela-
tion between radius and mass derived
by Chandrasekhar for degenerate gas
spheres, the mass could be calculated and
was found to amount to 2.8 solar masses.
This amount of matter, then, is all packed
in a sphere with only half the earth’s
radius. It can hardly be a surprise any
more that the figure for the density as-
sumes staggering dimensions. We find
it to be 36 million times the density of
water, weighing a mere 620 tons per cubic
inch if at the surface of the earth. Inci-
dentally, the force of gravity on the sur-
face of the star is million times that
on earth.

Of all white dwarfs, only three are
near-by stars, situated within 16 light
years of the sun. In fact, all the others
are beyond 40 light years. If we assume
that no more stars will be found within
this limit, we can calculate the relative
frequency of the white dwarf stars. The
frequency of all stars in the neighbor-
hood of the sun, that is, within 25 light
years, is fairly well known from various
methods of attack. If we adopt one of
the more recent determinations, that by
van Maanen, the white dwarfs are found
to constitute about one per cent, of all
stars. However, it seems likely that this
estimate may be much too low; in fact,
the white dwarfs may prove to be quite
abundant. At any rate, whether of ex-
ceptional type or not, they will continue
to occupy a first rank position among
astrophysical problems.

Much research remains to be done, not
only with regard to the white dwarfs as
such, but also to their relation to other
stars, notably the relatively dense nuclei
of planetary nebulae and the ^‘end*
products” of the exploding novae. The

spectral features in common between
these stars and the white dwarfs would
point to a possible relationship. Their
densities, however, though of the highest
among the ^normal” stars, are no match
for those of the extremely compressed
white dwarfs.

Possibly further insight into the prop-
erties of super-dense matter may lead to
a better understanding of the constitu-
tion of the more normal stars. If the
problem of stellar evolution is to be
solved, we must fit into its scheme not
only these super-dexise stars, but also the
massive super-giants in highly diffuse
states, the unstable configurations pre-
sented by the pulsating Cepheid varia-
bles, etc.

Perhaps the “gap” in luminosity be-
tween the normal intrinsically bright
white stars and the faint white dwarfs
may eventually be filled, depending on
the outcome of extended spectral analy-
ses and distance determinations. For
this purpose we at the McCormick Ob-
servatory are determining the distances
of all white stars which, on the basis of
proper motion and apparent brightness,
show a promise of being “intermedi-
ates.”

The figure taken from Volume VIII of
the Publications of the Leander Mc-
Cormick Observatory will serve to illus-
trate this further. In this familiar
Bussell-Hertzsprung diagram, 1206 stars
are plotted according to their spectral
types and absolute magnitudes — as a
measure of their luminosities — ^based on
determinations of their parallaxes with
the McCormick refractor.

At the first glance the diagram may
appear as the cold, matter-of-fact statis-
tics of 25 years of continuous parallax
research. However, looking more in-
tently, we shall read in it a vivid descrip-
tion of the variety of brilliance and color
of a sidereal Broadway. At once con-
spicuous features attract our attention,
the near equality in brightness of the
most brilliant displays, the stars on the

138

THE SOIENTIPIO MONTHLY

^‘giant” branch, regardless of their
color; the gradual dimming of the less
Manming lights, the Stars on the “Main
Sequence,” as we pass from the bluest,
along orange and yellow to the reddest
members; and last but not least the
feeble, unjustly modest display of the
white dwarfs, in splendid isolation.

It must be stated that Sirius B, among
others, does not appear on the Mc>
Cormick diagram, as its distance was not
determined direclly, though it is known
accurately through measures of Sirius A.
However, the inclusion of the omitted
white dwarfs would not materially alter
but would rather stiengthen the position
of this small group of B and A type stars
of low luminosity.

From the evolutionary point of view
it cmi be stated with certainty that the
diagram as a whole represents a set of
loci of equilibrium points, each point
representing some particular stage in the
process of stellar evolution. As to the
course of travel there may well be a mul-
titude of tracks on this emplacement.
Presumably abundant will be the course
of gradual changes of luminosity, color,
mass, etc., along the same or parallei
tracks. Then again we may have to deal
with unruly bodies which would at times
prefer to jump their tracks in order to
proceed on others.

Valuable eontributioEks to the interpre-
tation of the .Russen-Hertaprung dia-
gram in recent years have been made by
Stromgren and others, through studies of
the hydrogen content masses and radii
of the stars.

As to the white dwarfs, the importance
of obsmwational work such as Kuiper’s
need £ardly be emphasised, and no less
that of those who, through equally pains-
taking research, provided the suspects,
the relatively small group of stars of
large proper motion. Discoveries of new
white dwarfs, extended studies of their
spectra and determination of their in-
trinsic brightnesses will serve not only to
add to our knowledge of these objects,
but also may throw new light on their
relations to the other stars.

Then, also, there may come an an-
nouncement of the discovery of the first
yellow or perhaps red “subdwarf,” pos-
sibly cases of former white dwarfs wdl
on ^eir way to their ultimate fate, the
“black” dwarf state of death of all
super-dense matter.

These types of stars, however, are still
brain-children of theorists, and to smne
degree products of wishful thinking and
dabbling in speculation. Whether or not
they are missing links in the evolutionary
scheme and do exist in space, time (mly
can tell.

HEREDITY AND THE LAWYER

Bjr Dr. ALEXANDER 8. WIENER

SKBOLOQtOAIi LABOBATOBT Or THE OmOB Of THE OBBT HEDIOAIi EZAMIHEB

or NEW TOEK OITT

In recent years, judges, juries and
lawyers have become more receptive to
the application of scientific knowledge
for the solution of problems arising in
courts of law. Still fresh in the minds
of most American citizens is the Lind-
bergh kidnapping case, in which an ex-
pert on wood linked Bruno Hauptman
with the crime by showing that the wood
in the ladder used in the kidnapping had
been taken from the floor of the attic in
the Hauptman home. The Buxton case
in England, in which portions of the
dismembered bodies of Mrs. Buxton and
her nurse-maid were successfully pieced
together and identified, is another good
example of the successful application of
scientific methods in a criminal case.

Not infrequently courts of law are
confronted with cases where a knowledge
of genetics is of value. For instance, the
decision of the court may dep.end on
whether or not a particular individual is
the child of a certain man and a certain
woman. The most common examples are
paternity proceedings, where the child
has been bom out of wedlock and the
mother claims a particular man to be the
father. In these cases, it is important to
fix properly the responsibility for the
support of the child, who might other-
wise become a public charge. In divorce
oases, the husband may assert his wifo
to be guilty of adultery, and as evidence
of such adultery endeavor to prove that
he can not possibly be the father of the
child bom during their marriage. In
inheritance cases, impostors have put in
claims by posing as long-lost heirs to the
estate. The most notorious example in
recent years of such an unsuccessful
attempt is the Wendel ease.

In the thirteenth century problems of
blood relationship were claimed to be
‘‘solved*’ in Japan and China by the
“blood-dropping test,” in which drops
of blood of the individuals being tested
were allowed to fall into water simulta-
neously; if the drops came together the
conclusion was that a relationship ex-
isted. As recently as 1929, a counter-
part of this naive test was invented by
Zangemeister . In Zangemeister ’s test the
sera of the child and the putative father
were mixed and the mixture examined
in a photometer for an increase in tur-
bidity, the occurrence of which was sup-
posed to be proof of paternity. A simi-
lar turbidity was supposed to appear in
mixtures of the sera of husband and
wife, but mixtures of sera of unrelated
individuals were said to remain perfectly
clear. Zangemeister stated that this sup-
posed phenomenon was the result of the
immunization of the mother and fetus in
utero to the sperm of the father. This
test and a similar one invented by
Zangemeister for the diagnosis of preg-
nancy were “successful” only in his own
hands, so they have been relegated to the
same category as the tests used in Japan
and China in olden times.

A more valid method of establishing
familial relationship and at the same
time among the most ancient is by dem-
onstrating a facial resemblance of the
child to its parents. This phenomenon
is so common that it hardly requires dis-
cussion. The most outstanding example
is the resemblance between a pair of
monovular or so-called “identical”
twins. Such twins result when a single
ovum fertilized by a single sperm, in-
stead of developing into a single individ-
139

140

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ual) splits in half, and each half develops
into a separate individual. On the other
hand, biovular, or ‘‘fraternar* twins
develop from entirely different fertil-
ized egrgs and therefore, aside from the
fact that they are of equal age, are no
more alike than ordinary brothers and
sisters. Monovular twins are as much
alike and no more different than the two
sides of the body, so that it is difficult
for strangers to tell one from the other.
So great was the faith of the ancient
Carthaginians in resemblance as a cri-
terion for determining parentage that
all children at the age of two months
were examined by a special committee,
and if the resemblance to the father was
not great enough they were done away
with.

In courts of law the resemblance be-
tween the child and its supposed parents
has frequently been advanced as evi-
dence of parentage. In the Wendel case
the claimant to the estate pointed out
the similarity between his own features
and those of a bust of the deceased.
Establishing parentage by resemblance
has, however, many serious limitations.
When the likeness is particularly strik-
ing, as in the case of identical twins,
little doubt would seem possible, but as
a rule the resemblance is not so strong.
In ascertaining resemblances there is a
strong subjective element, particularly
with infants and young children whose
features are not fully formed. More-
over, features will change as a result of
age, diet, disease, injuries, etc., and in
this way one can easily be misled. Two
closely related individuals may appear
entirely different; two homely parents
can have beautiful children, and two
beautiful parents can have homely
children.^

On the other hand, two totally unre-
lated individuals may strikingly resem-

iC/. A. Scheinfeld, “You and Heredity, “
Chapter XXVIII. Now York: P. A. Stokes
Company. 1939.

ble each other, as in Mark Twain’s novel,
‘‘The Prince and the Pauper,” and there
have been such instances reported in the
daily press, involving prominent per-
sonalities. Besemblance is even more
difficult to ascertain when comparison is
made not between two living individuals
but between two pictures or busts. For
these reasons, many courts of law, such
as those in New York State, do not per-
mit the exhibition of the child to the jury
for purposes of comparison with the
putative father in cases of disputed
parentage. Indeed, such a proceeding
would merely serve to arouse the emo-
tions of the jury and prejudice them
against the defendant, rather than per-
mit a sober unbiased appraisal of the
situation.

The main cause for the difficulties
entailed in applying resemblance as a
mode of establishing parentage is that
the features are the complex result of
the many separate characteristics which
enter into it, each of which has its own
independent inheritance. A more scien-
tific approach to the problem, and a more
objective one, is through the use of so-
called “unit characters.”

As Mendel first pointed out at the
middle of the nineteenth century, such
unit characters are transmitted by deter-
miners now known as genes. As an
example of a unit character let us con-
sider the color of the eyes. For sim-
plicity, eye colors can be classified as
dark and light. These characters are
inherited by means of a pair of allelic
genes, which may be designated by the
letters d and I, respectively, where d
represents the gene for dark eyes, I the
gene for light eyes. Since each individ-
ual has in his somatic cells two genes for
each unit character, one from the father
and the other from the mother, there are
three genotypes possible with respect to
the genes d and I, namely, dd, ll and dU
Obviously, individuals of genotype dd
will have dark eyes and individuals of

HEREDITY AND THE LAWYER

141

genotype ll will have light eyes. With
regard to the individuals of genotype dl,
Davenport has shown that the gene for
dark eyes is dominant over the gene for
light eyes, so that such individuals will
have dark eyes.

With the aid of Davenport’s theory of
the inheritance of eye color it is possible
to predict the colors of the children’s
eyes if those of the parents are known.
There are three matings possible; (1)
both parents dark-eyed, (2) one par-
ent dark-eyed and the other light-eyed
and (3) both parents light-eyed. Let
us consider, for example, the matings
where both parents have light eyes. In
these cases both parents are of genotype
ll, and as every germ cell contains one
and only one gene from each allelic pair,
all the germ cells of both parents will
contain gene Z. At fertilization, there-
fore, only zygotes* of genotype ll will be
produced and all the children will have
light eyes. The other matings are
worked out in a similar way, but one
must bear in mind that when a parent
has dark eyes his or her genotype may
be either dd or dh

The results of Davenport’s theory may
be summarized as follows: (1) when one
or both parents have dark eyes the chil-
dren can have either dark or light eyes ;
(2) if both parents have light eyes none
of the children can have dark eyes. The
rule of practical importance is the sec-
ond, since on this basis it would theo-
retically be possible to prove that a given
individual is not the father of a certain
child. If a woman has light eyes and
her child dark eyes, then no man with
light eyes could be its father; on the
other hand, if the accused man in such
a case had dark eyes, that would not
necessarily prove that he was the father
of the child, since a large percentage of
individuals have dark eyes.

Unfortunately, there are a number of
serious obstacles to the reliable applica-

a FertiUied ova.

(100% dark-eyed ehildren) (100% dark-eyed)

(75% dark-eyed) (25% light)

<a) Matings in which both parents have dark eyo-

(100% dark-eyed) (50% dark) (50% light)

(b) Matings in which one parent has
dark eyes, the other light eyes.

U, X Ijl

(100% light-eyed)

INHEBITANCE OP EYE OOLOB IN MAN

OEKOTTPES OF PABBNTS ARE INDICATED BT LET-
TEBS AT TOPS OF DIAGBAICB; THE GAMETES (GERM
CELLS) BT LETTERS AT CENTERS AND TBS GENO-
TYPES OF THE CHILDREN AT BOTTOMS.

tion of Davenport’s theory of heredity
of eye color in medico-legid cases. First
of all, the simple classification of eye
color as dark and light does not corre-
spond with the real state of affairs.
Actually, a rather large variety of colors
and shades exist, such as brown, black,
gray, haeel, blue and green; in albinos

142

THE SOIENTIPIO MONTHLY

the eyes may be pink. To allow for these
possibilities it is necessary to postulate
the existence not of a pair but of mul-
tiple allelic genes. Moreover, the domi-
nance of the dark colors, brown and
black, over the lighter colors, gray, blue
and green, is not absolute, so that occa-
sionally individuals of genotype dl may
have light eyes instead of dark eyes. If
two such light-eyed individuals inter-
marry they might have a dark-eyed
child, thus upsetting the rules of heredi-
tary transmission. Finally, the eye color
does not remain constant throughout
life. In newborn infants the eyes are
usually blue or some other light color,
but later on they may change to a darker
color such as brown; moreover, one’s eye
color may change as a result of disease
involving the iris, or in old age.

When we turn to other normal physi-
cal characters we encounter similar
obstacles to their application in prob-
lems of parentage. For example, though
there is no doubt that the type of ear-
lobe, whether large and free or small and
attached to the side of the head, is hered-
itary, the mechanism of transmission is
not clear-cut, so that it is not possible
to predict with absolute certainty what
type or types of ear-lobes the children
will have when those of the parents are
known. The same may be said for the
finger-prints, the use of which in pater-
nity disputes has been advocated by
certain investigators (Numberger, Bon-
nevie). It might seem that the ^gev-
prints would furnish the ideal solution
in problems of disputed parentage in
view of their pronounced individuality.
However, it appears that the mechanism
of heredity of the finger-prints must be
almost as complicated as the finger-
prints themselves, and even to-day their
heredity is not clearly understood. One
limitation is that the finger-prints on the
right and left hands of the same indi-
vidual may be quite different (as are the
finger-prints of identical twins), al-

though sueh prints shew a closer resem-
blance than the prints from unrelated
individuals.

In fact, hardly any of the normal indi-
vidual differences among human beings
visible to the unaided eye have as per-
fectly simple an inheritance as that
described by Mendel in his classic
studim on the sweet pea. There are,
however, individual differences among
normal humans which are not visible to
the naked eye, but are of a biochemical
nature which exhibit a simple Mendelian
inheritance. The most important of
these characters are the blood groups,
0, A, B and AB. The existence of in-
dividual differences in human blood was
discovered by Landsteiner in 1900-4)1,
who with Levine also discovered the so-
called human blood tjrpes, M, N and MN,
in 1928.

What blood group a person belongs to
is determined by testing bis red blood
cells for two substances known as ag-
glutinogens A and B, respectively. The
chemical nature of these substances is
not completely understood, though they
seem to be related to polysaccharides,
and no physiological function has been
found that they perform. Their pres-
ence or absence in the blood is deter-
mined with the aid of two sera, one
containing agglutinin anti-A, the other
anti-B, which act on blood containing
agglutinogens A and B, respectively. If
the agglutinogen in question is present
in the cells, the cells will clump together
(or agglutinate) into large masses; if
the agglutinogen is absent, no clumping
of the cells occurs. If no agglutination
occurs in either serum, the group is 0;
if clumping occurs only with the anti-A
serum, the group is A; if clumping oc-
curs only with the anti-B serum, the
group is B ; and if clumping occurs with
both sera, the group is AB.*

• These reactions are the basis of the fatal
sequelae which may result if Uood of the im-
proper group is administered in a blood trans-
fusion.

HEREDITY AND THE LAWYER

143

Aa Bernatein haa ahomi, the inheri-
tance of the blood groups is determined
by a series of allelic genes A, B and 0,
where genes A and B determine agglu-
tinogens A and B, respectively, and are
dominant over gene O.* Corresponding
to the four blood groups, therefore, six
genotypes are possible, as follows : Group
0 — genotype 00; group A — genotypes
AA and AO; group B — genotypes BB
and BO; group AB — genotype AB. It
is a simple matter to ascertain what
groups can occur in the children when
tile groups of the parents are known, in
the manner outlined when discussing the
inheritance of eye-color. Ten matings
are possible, and these together with the
children possible are given in Table 1.

TABLE 1

The Lanobteinbr Blood Groups in Parents

AND Children

GrooDB ot
parents

Groups of
children
possible

Groups of
children not
possible

1. 0

A, Bi AB

2, 0

X A

B, AB

3. 0

A, AB

4. A

X A

B. AB

JS. A

A. B, AB

6. B

A. AB

7. 0

X AB

0, AB

8. A

x AB

B. AB

9. B

XAB

A»

B, AB

10. ABxAB

B, AB

For those interested primarily in the
application of blood grouping in cases
of disputed parentage, it is sufScient
merely to remember the following two
laws of inheritance: (1) Agglutinogen
A or B can not appear in the blood of
a child unless present in the blood of
one or both parents. (2) A group AB
parent can not have a group 0 child,
and a group 0 parent can not have a
group AB child.

To illustrate how this knowledge is
applied, a case will be described in which
a mixture of babies occurred in a Chi-
cago hospital in 1930, the problem finally

* Tlw heredity 'of the blood groups has been
eonpared to that of ^ eolor of flowers and to
that of the eolor of the eyes.

being solved by the blood grouping tests.
Mr. and Mrs. B., on returning home
from the hospital with their baby, no-
ticed that it bore a label on its ba<^ with
the name "W.” They immediatdy hur-
ried to the home of Mr. and Mrs. W. and
it was found that the baby there had a
label “B.” on its back. The poor
parents were in a quandary, not know-
ing whether they had taken their own
babies home or the labels on the infants’
backs were correct, and they sued the
hospital for damages. The court ordered
blood tests to be made and the findings
were as follows:

Blood of; Oroup: Blood of; Group;
Mr. B. AB Mr. W. O

Mrs. B. O Mrs. W. O

Baby “W.‘» O Baby “B.»» A

Since two parents of groups AB and
0, respectively, can have only children
of groups A and B, but not of group 0
or AB, it is evident that the baby with
the label ‘*W.” on its back could not
possibly be the child of Mr. and Mrs.
B. ; on the other hand, the baby labelled
“B.” could be their child. Moreover,
since two group 0 parents can only have
group 0 children, Mr. and Mrs. W. could
not possibly be the parents of the baby
labelled “B.” but could be the parents
of the other child. In this way the blood
grouping tests solved the vexing problem
and, by order of the court, the children
were exchanged and restored to their
own parents.

It is evident that with the aid of the
blood tests it is possible to assert only
that a given individual can not be the
father of a given child in those instances
where the groups do not conform with
the laws of inheritance cited above. It
is not possible to assert with certainty
that a certain person is the parent of a
given child, except where it is known
that one out of a few individuals on^
could be the father, and all but one of
these are excluded by the tests. "Wbrn
a man has been unjustly accused of the

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

144

paternity of a given child, his innocence
can be established with ^e aid of the
blood groups in about one sixth of the
cases. The number of such cases which
can be solved was doubled by the discov-
ery in 1928 by Landsteiner and Levine
of two additional agglutinogens of
human blood, designated by the letters
M and N. These properties, which are
entirely independent of the agglutino-
gens A and B, determine three types of
blood, M, N and MN, and are trans-
mitted with the aid of a pair of allelic
genes, M and N. Corresponding to the
types the following genotypes exist : type
M — genotype MM ; type N — genotype
NN; type MN — genotype MN. On the
basis of this theory, the inheritance of-
agglutinogens M and N is as given in
Table 2. For use in the courtroom it is

TABLE 2

TBB AaOLHTlNOGKNB M AND N IN PARBNTS
AND CHILDRBN

Types of
parents

Typed of
children
possible

Types of
children not
possible

1. MNxMN

M, N. and MN

2. MNxN

N and MN

3, MNxM

M and MN

4. M xN

M and N

5. N xN

M and Am

6. M xM

N and MN

sufficient to remember the following two
laws: (1) The agglutinogens M and N
can not appear in the blood of a child
unless present in the blood of one or both
parents. (2) A type M parent can not
have a type N child and a type N parept
can not have a type M child.

One case will be cited to illustrate the
successful application of the agglutino-
gens M and N for solving a problem of
disputed parentage. A woman sued' her
husband on account of non-support. He
counter-claimed with a suit for annul-
ment on the ground that he was not the
father of his wife’s child, but had been
led to marry her by her false assertion
that the child was the result of one of
their clandestine meetings during her

previous marriage. When the bloods
were examined by the writer, no definite
conclusions could be drawn from the
tests for A and B. However, it was
found that the woman in question be-
longed to type N and the child to type
M, so that she could not be the mo&er
of he]^ supposed child. Further investi-
gations revealed that the woman in the
case had been married six times previ-
ously, and some old hospital records
were found which revealed that she had
had an operation some time previously
which made it impossible for her to have
had a child. Her contention was that
the midline scar on her abdomen was the
result of a Caesarean operation, though
she could not produce the surgeon who
was supposed to have performed the
operation. Finally, the orphanage was
located from which she had adopted the
child which she used to perpetrate the
fraud on her present husband.

Other cases in which blood grouping
tests can be applied are inheritance dis-
putes, divorce and rape cases, and kid-
napping cases. Where litigation is
anticipated in inheritance cases it nlay
even be wise to take blood grouping teste
on the deceased at the time of death. Of
special interest are problems of pater-
nity involving twins. If the twins are
monovular they must have come from
the same father, of course. In the case
of fraternal twins, however, it is theo-
retically possible for each, while it has
the same mother, to have a different
father. This occurrence is known as
superfecundation, and is scientifically
possible though most difficult of proof.
In 1934 Judge A. B. Tripp, sitting in
Yankton, granted a divorce to a man on
the grounds of infidelity. The man re-
quested and obtained custody of the twin
who looked like him, and the wife was
left with the twin who looked like the
neighbor. A more seientific conclusion
would have been possible in this ease had
blood teste been msde and it had been

HEREDITY AND THE LAWYER

145

shown that the claimant was not the
father of one of the two twins. Accord-
ing to Time magazine,*^ American medi-
cal records of the last century contain
reports of cases of two white girls, each
of whom cohabited in rapid succession
with a Negro and a white man. The
result was that each bore twins, one of
which was white, the other mulatto.

As mentioned above, a falsely accused
man can be exonerated by means of the
four blood groups in one sixth of the
cases, and his chances have been in-
creased to about 33 per cent, by the dis-
covery of the properties M and N. The
question may arise whether by the dis-
covery of additional blood factors the
percentage of successful cases can be
raised to 100 per cent. Theoretically
this ideal can be approached but not
reached, since with each new factor that
is tried there is overlapping with the
older blood tests, some men being ex-
cluded by more than one of the blood
tests. It might be mentioned that addi-
tional properties in human blood besides
A, B, M and N have been discovered
which can be used in problems of dis-
puted parentage, but they have not been
studied enough to warrant their use
in the courtroom at the present time.
Where one is asked to offer a private
opinion as to paternity their use might
be permissible, if the required reagents
are available. The more important of
these factors are the agglutinogens Ai
and Aa (varieties of A agglutinogen),
the agglutinogen Bh and agglutinogen
P. In addition, people of groups A, B
and AB may secrete group specific sub-
stances in their saliva, and the capacity
to secrete them is hereditary. While
morphological traits such as eye color,
dimples in the chin, hair color, etc., do
not exhibit as clear-cut an inheritance,
in private consultations they may be
used for the purpose of arriving at an
opinion, though not an absolute decision,
Jaa. 8, 1934.

as to the paternity of a child, in cases
where the result of the blood tests are
inconclusive.

Aside from the normal individual dif-
ferences there are numerous abnormal
anatomical and physiological anomalies
which are hereditary, such as polydac-
tylism, claw hand, hemophilia, albinism,
etc. These abnormal traits are mostly
inherited as simple unit characters in
accordance with the Mendelian laws, and
therefore can be used in paternity pro-
ceedings should they occur in parents
and children. In fact, because of the
rarity of such anomalies, their simul-
taneous presence in the putative father
and child may be taken as strong circum-
stantial evidence that the man in ques-
tion actually is the father of the child.
Mohr cites a case in which the presence
of brachyphalangy (short fingers) was
the basis of a court’s decision that the
man in question was actually the father.

Until recently one of the major im-
pediments to the more general accep-
tance of the blood grouping tests in the
courts of this country has been the lack
of suitable legislation giving the courts
power to compel individuals in such pro-
ceedings to submit to blood examinations.
Suitable laws have, however, been passed
in New York, Wisconsin, New Jersey,
Ohio and Maine, and similar legislation
is pending in other states. Another dif-
ficulty is the lack of a sufficient number
of qualified individuals in each state to
carry out such examinations. The con-
ducting of a blood grouping examination
requires rather highly specialized knowl-
edge, and erroneous reports have been
rendered where inexperienced individ-
uals were permitted to carry out the
tests.* But bloods can be drawn in one
locality and shipped through the mails
to individuals qualified to carry out the
examination. In one such case the

< Cf, Report of the Oommittee on Medieo-legal
Blood Grouping Tests, Jour. Amer, Med, Aseoe,,
108: 2188, 2113, 1987.

146

THE SOIENTIFIO MONTHLY

'Writer in New York received bloods of value of the blood testa. An editorial
s mo t bfn* and child 24 hoars after the which appeared in a recent issae*' of the
birth of a baby in a hospital in Colorado, Journal of the American Medical Asso-
the man’s blood being taken in New dation, commenting favorably on this
York. Since the blood bad been shipped decision, closed with the following sen-
by air mail and packed in ice, the cells tenee: '‘Granting the right of the court
were practically fresh when received, to compel submission to blood grouping
despite the great distance involved, and tests, either by authority of a special
the examinations were conducted with law ... or under a more embradve
no greater difficulty than if the individ- statute authorizing the court to compel
i Tftla had all put in a personal appear- submission to physical examination with-
ance. out specifically mentioning blood group-

In conclusion the writer would like to ing tests, as was the situation in the
point to a recent decision of the United recent District of Columbia case, there
States Court of Appeals for the District would seem to be no justification for
of Columbia. In this case, involving the farther hesitancy on the part of the
paternity of a baby bom in wedlock, courts to accept as scientifically sound
the court issued an order directing a the results of blood grouping tests to the
man, wife and child to submit to blood extent that they disprove the possibility
grouping tests, and this order was of paternity.”

affirmed by the Court of Appeals, which 7 jour. Amer. Med. Auoe., II6: 806 , July 27 ,
accepted as established the scientific 1040 .

A PHYSICIST’S VIEW OF ETHICS

Br Dt. OBORGB A. 7XNK

xASTON, piNNsnyinu

Pbofbbsor Conklih, in his article altruism a bit loosely here. It seems
“Does Science Afford a Basis for better to say that as tiie minds of per-
Ethics f” in the October, 1939, issue of sons become more highly developed their
The SoiBHTmc Monthly, showed that interest in, and sympathy for, others
science does afford a basis for ethics but broadens, but this interest and sympathy
did not go ahead to outline, as I shall try is never really altruistic,
to do, a theory which can serve as the Ethics becomes more understandable
skeleton of a science of ethics. Conklin . to me after making an analysis of its
is right in saying that ethics is natural supposed base: altruism. When one
in origin and has undergone an evolu- studies the evolution of ethics in par-
tion from simple to complex. Further, ticular, and human behavior in general,
such a natural development of ethics is it seems clear that selfishness is univer-
more hopeful than any supernatural de- sal, obvious in many cases, disguised in
velopment could be. To a limited extent others, unavoidable in all. Selfishness
I agree that “As one goes up through is a good thing simply beeauae it is nee-
higher and higher social grades one finds essary for the preservation and growth
that altruism reaches farther and takes of living things. Many will say that I
in more people, until with some persons am “unethical” in acknowledging the
it includes the whole human race”; but pursuit of ideaaure or happiness as my
I think that Conklin is using the word sole aim in life, but they misuse the

PHYSICI3T’S VIEW OP ETHICS

147

word. Th^ would be speakmf more
Meurately if they eftid that a hedonistic
code of ethics conflicts with their codes
of ethics.

Pleasure is one of those things which
are too fundamental to define in terms
of simpler things ; one can only define it
by exemplification. In general, one may
say that the exercise of any normal
function of the human body produces
pleasure. That statement is perhaps as
much a definition of normal function as
of pleasure. Eating, drinking, resting
and sexual intercourse are examples of
obviously normal bodily functions that
are normally pleasurable. If a person
does not enjoy such elementary actions
in reasonable amounts, something is
wrong with him or her, physiologically
or psychologioally. What other experi-
ences one considers pleasant is depen-
dent on one’s mental development,
training and habits, and in some cases
these experiences may be fantastic and
apparently unexplainable. Thought or
consciousness may be considered to be
the highest human function or bodily
process; its performance, accordingly,
should give the highest pleasure. The
fact that many people say that ’'think-
ing is the hardest work to do” indicates
how poorly developed this function is
in them. One who does not enjoy think-
ing has not done much of it, for think-
ing is like a game which one enjoys
more, the more practice one has had and
the better one can play. Thinking is,
moreover, a pleasure which, like eating,
may Ibe indulged in unwisely. Over-
thinking on a useless subject, or day-
dreaming, can waste time just as over-
eating can cause indigestion.

(hui may say that the highest type of
thiMlriwof ig that type called creative, al-
though all is to some octent

creative. Even a student carefully fol-
lowing the train of thought of the author
of a iext-boOk ih crMting anew for him-
sOlf the ideas whiifii may have been pos-

sessed by millions before but are yet
fresh and unexplored to him. There
are three requiremmits for creative
thinking: First, the mind must have
ideas to work witii ; these require experi-
ence and reflection to form. Second, the
mind must have imagination, the ability
to put these ideas together in new emn-
binations. Third, the mind must have
the abilily to recognize the value in cer-
tain of these combinations which may
appear to have been formed as if by cc-
cident without conscious desire or di-
rection. All three of these phases of
creative thinking have evolved naturally
from lower forms of nervous and men-
tal activity. It may then be expected
that the exercise of imagination will
bring pleasure. This is found to be
true; indeed, for some people the high-
est iype of pleasure is obtained from
imaginative thinking. For instance, the
use of imagination in science, primarily
in the construction of theories, is an es-
sentially selfish act performed to gain
pleasure, as is every other mental act.
This is often indirectly admitted by the
scientists themselves when they speak of
the "beauty” and "elegance” of their
theories. To one able to appreciate it,
the beauty of a far-reaching theory may
be as great as that of the best painting
or sculpture. The pleasure derived
from the creation of the theory may also
be as great as that enjoyed by the
painter or sculptor or musician, and is
of the same intellectual or mental type.

Even the mass of unseientifle people,
who have never consciously created a
scientific theory, and who think that
"facts” are superior to "theory,” do a
gtreat deal of theoretical thinMng, and
get pleasure from it, without realizing
the nature of what they are doing. The
things that are called facts by those per-
sons who claim to be interested only in
"practioal facts” always involve some
theory of the world whirir is so com^
mcmly accepted that its. theoretical na-

148

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ture is uimoticed. The common idea of
an antithesis between theory and facts,
or between theory and practice, is an
unfortunate misconception. The most
practical and labor-saving thing in the
world is a good theory, one that has
been verified and found to work. As
for facts or knowledge, we have only a
set of sense impressions which is organ-
ised to a limited extent by means of
ideas and theories of varying degrees
of simplicity and clearness. The thing
that, alone, makes sense impressions
have meaning is that purest and most
valuable of all fictions, the physical
world, which we postulate as the cause
of the perceptions. Without this fiction
our perceptions are meaningless; in fact,
we would not even have what most peo-
ple, including most philosophers and
psychologists, call crude sense impres-
sions, but only have vague feelings of
comfort or discomfort. For example,
one can not recognize that the sensation
produced by breathing ammonia vapor
is a smell, not merely an unpleasant feel-
ing of unknown origin, without having
had previous experience with ammonia
and the sense of smell, not even without
something of a theory of the structure of
the universe and of mankind’s place
in it.

Imagination and creativeness are usu-
ally thought to be characteristics of ar-
tists and not of scientisjla, but this is an
error. Art may be defined broadly as a
human activity whose purpose is the at-
tainment of pleasure by the artist and
the fulfilment of his emotional desires.
The true scientist, who is not a mere
technician or investigator of details, is
an artist in this general sense. Iihagi-
nation has been an important feature of
the work of the greatest scientisto.
Newton’s law of gravitation is as much
a work of creative genius as any of
Beethoven’s symphonies are, although it
was put forth as a universal law, and
has had abundant verification as such.

As Havelock BUis says in his chapter <m
“The Art of Thinking” in “.The Dance
of Life”;

Bcienee is not the aecomiilation of knowledge
in the sense of piling up isolated facts, but Ibe
active organiaatioh of knowledge, • • • this talk
is impossible without the widest range of vision
and most restless fertUitj of imaginati(m.

There is a close connection between
ethics and esthetics. Esthetics, usually
defined as the study of beau^, is largely
a study of pleasure, since beauty is that
quality which we attribute to an object
as the cause of the emotion of pleasure
the object gives us. Birkhoff has devel-
oped a theory of esthetic measure which
seems to be a promising beginning in
this field. His theory assumes that
esthetic value is associated with order
or the degree of “unity-in-multiplic-
ity.” He limits himself to “formal de-
ments of order, in ccmtradistinction to
connotative elements of order,” but the
reasons for pleasure being caused by
perceiving dements of order are the
same in both cases. The connotative
elements can not be taken account of b7
a formalistic theory but are very impor-
tant. The fact that we all find ddi|^t
in familiar and habitual things, though
too frequent repetition becomes irritat-
ing, has a phydeal basis that would be
difficult to explain in detaiL We also
delight in the new if it is not completely
new, and if there are some familiar fea-
tures recognizable. The pleasure we
feel in the recognition of old eknients in
new combinations may be considered as
pleasure in performing die normal func-
tion of thinking, for the recognition of
similarities is one of the most important
and most fundamental types of
thinking.

A person may be said to be intydled
in the direction of maximum pleasure in
a way analogous to die acederation of a
free mass in the direedon of the maxi-
mum gradient of the gravitatidud po-
tential fidd. Of coarse dm paydidi^-

A PHYSICIST’S VIEW OP ETHICS

1 ^

kal pFoUein is not as siinple as the axial*
ogons mechanieal one. 'V^ile all masses
placed at the same point in a graTita*
tional field will be accelerated in the
same direction, different persons in the
same situation can act in different ways.
The explanation in terms of the prin-
ciple of maximum pleasure is that dif-
ferent people, because of their differing
natures, give different values to the plea-
sures to be derived from the various
modes of action possible in a given situ-
ation. In this way the maximum plea-
sure is obtained in different directions
by different persons. The gravitational
case would be similar to the psyidiolog-
ical one if different masses were polar-
ized in some way such that the compo-
nents of the gravitational field were
given different relative weights. A like
case is that of an electron in a magnetic
field. Blectrons moving in different di-
rections at the same point of the field
will experience forces acting in different
directions. Here the difference in the
directioxu of motion of electrons corre-
sponds to the difference in the psycho-
logical natures of individuals. The
physical case is still much simpler than
the pof^ological one, since the electrons
vary only in velocity, a quantity having
three independent components, while
human beings vary in innumerable dis-
tinct ways. A person for whom the
greatest pleasure is found in association
with people and in the feeling of power
that comes from being a person in au-
thority will attempt to become a leader
in businees, politics or other fields. One
for whom the greatest please is the
sdf-aatisfaotion that comes from doing
aiqparently unselfish things will become
a charitable person. And one, such as
I think 1 am, for whom the greatest plea-
sure is found in leamiiig and in under-
standing will natural]^ become a stu-
dent end a seieiitist
Ahheui^ altruimn, strictly speaking,
dow nett exist, this eone^t is a conveni-

ent fiction which is (fften useful,^ the
concise description of human imthms.
Actions which are apparently altruistic
or unselfidi, and usually pass for ahans.
ism, have always appeared to me, on
close study, to efforts to satisfy some
obscure desire for self-approvid. The
person in question is often unaware of
the nature of his feeling of self-eatisfae-
tion, and he sincerely believes that he is
doing an unselfish act. This abili^ to
obtain pleasure from a superficially un-
selfish act, which is usually the result of
religions training that assumed the ex-
istence of genuine altruism, is one of the
things that enable fundamentally selfish
people to live together more or less har-
moniously in a socie^ where immediate
selfish interests often conflict. On a
higher, as least more abstract, level is an
understanding of the fact that to obtain
nuucimiim pleasure from civilized life it
is necessary to curb one’s immediate
selfish interests in favor of higher self-
ish interests which advance the welfare
of societr, and incidentally advance
one’s own welfare. The hope of the
world for a more perfect civilization Ues
more in the growth of enlightened sdf-
ishness than in a Kingdom of God or in
any other hazy idea of a prophet.

TVliat, then, is good and evil, if un-
selfishness is not good and selfishness is
not evilt We can not define absolute
and tmiversal good and evil; we can only
define individual and relative goods and
evils, each completely valid only for one
person at one time, although with $ome
modification it may serve at another
time or place. That which is good for
me now, for instance, is that which helph
me to grow, physically and mentally.
In general, the same is true for others,
..though the details of what is good for
than will not be the same as for me.
In so far as I have developed beyond a
mere animal, my needs wiU be broato
and my idea of good will be higher than
the satisfaction of animal insects. Is

m THU SCIENTIFIO MONTBIilf

it higher heeaiue I have a greater raxige
’Of expezienoe and desires t Or because I
reidise that to live happilj^ in an organ-
ised society I must consider the some-
times ooixflioting needs of others, and
must restrain some self-centered desires
in order to satisfy desires for social plea-
sures t Or because I can see forward a
little into the future, and can restrain
a desire for immediate pleasure in order
to obtain a greater future happiness t
We can go no farther than this, I think,
in trying to set an absolute standard of
good and evil. Each one of tis has a set
of more or less weU-d^ned ideas of
good and eviL It is questionable
whether a single concept of goodness
can be formed consistent with all these
ideas, or even representative of a com-
mon fundamental notion in them. The
greatest good of the greatest number is
commonly considered a more admirable
ideal than personal happiness. But
whyT Is there anything to the welfare
of society beyond the welfare of its mem-
bers t The state itself can not enjoy
an;^ing, not even the happiness of its
citizens. I disagree violently with those
nationalist orators who imply that the
state or nation has a life or conscious-
ness of its own superior to that of the
individuals who compose it.

There is no religion; there are only
reli^ons. By that I mean that it is im-
possible to frame a single definition of
religion consistent with all the religions
that have been developed in the history
of the human race, since that which has
been called religion has varied too much
with person, time and place. However,
most religions fall into two classes which
overlap somewhat. First there are those '
involving a belief in a divine Being or
Beings having material existence and
supernatural powers. These largely
ec^ist of a primitive cosmology colored
with such emotions as reverence, awe
and {^t. The priests, prophets and
medicine men who created the primitive

religimiB were the sdentiata vt thrix.
day, although the eosmolegiea oontiaiBed
in their religions are ineompatilile with
the results of modem jAysica and as-
tronomy. In faet, a snpematuzaliam
which postulates the existenoe of a di-
vine being not subject to the laws gov-
erning the rest of the world is based on
an essentially unsdentifle attitude
toward the world. A supernatural re-
ligion thus conflicts with science, even
though its adherents try to avoid the
conflict by saying that religion deals
only with spiritual things while science
deals with -material things. Second
there are those religions in which the
Gk>d has become an abstraction without
personal existence, and in which empha-
sis is laid on the relations of people to
the others among whom they live. Some
persons would call this type of religion
a code of ethics, and reserve the name
religion for the first class. Even re-
ligions of this second class are in con-
flict witii science to the extent tiiat they
are based on unscientifle ideas <d sin and
salvation.

A religion concerned only with spir-
itual things, such as many people claim
to have, is imi>os8ible, or at least futile.
Exponents of such a religi<m do not
clearly realize what they mean by *'spir-
ituaL” They imagine that human
thoughts and desires are purely spir-
itual processes, processes ttot have no
physical basis, because they are luilt
aware of the physical mechanism uni-
fying mental processes. Although no
one knows the details of the physical
basis of thinking, the absurdity of a be-
lief that there is no such basis diould
be apparent to any one who considers
the fact that if a brain is rendered in-
active or damaged by drugs, accident mt
otiier physical means, the spirit or mind
associated with it is invariably de-
stroyed or greatly changed- If ifitydcsi
sets are really negligible to a reUgioB,
and only qdritaal thing! am impoitant,

* ‘ ' I ' 'll' ' 1 , ' I , ' * I ‘ * *

A J^SteiST’S VIE# OF ETHICS 151

then the rdighm heeomee neeleM and is played hy the eonoept dt rin. i*
aeademie, ooneemed only with unobser* a flction whose utOity is limited its
table things. Actually, religioniata are being based cm a bdief in standards of
always much eonoemed with human ac- good and evil that are thought to, be*
tions, which are physical phenomena if divinely ordained and absolute, but are
nothing else. neither divine nor absolute, being trap

Parallel with the evolution of relig- ditional conclusions from old and very
ions has been the evolution of ideas of imperfect theories of human motivation
God, beginning with material and per- and behavior. "While I know of no the-
sonal gods possessing all the human de- ology in which ignorance is a sin, all the
sires and emotions of their worshippers, so-called sinful acts I have obswed
and progressing up to supposedly inuna- have been merely the result of ignorance
terial beings having none of the qualities or limited understanding. Even a erim-
of which their human creators were inal act performed under the influence
ashamed, yet still retaining the ability of violent emotions is the result of the
to know and plan and act as human inadequacy of a mind, because of incmn-
beings do. The final stage in the traxis- plete development, for performing its
formation of the idea of God under the natural function of directing the body
influence of science' is a supreme world- with which it is connected,
spirit, immaterial and spiritual in na- Acceptance of the ideas of sin and
ture, without power to act directly on guilt requires a belief in a free soul vrith
the physical world. The existence of a complete knowledge of good and eml,
such a supernatural being is a possibil- and with the power to choose betiireen
ity that can not be disproved ; but it is them and either resist or yield to temp-
meaningless and useless, since, by defi- tatious to sin. Since 1 have rejected the
nition, it can never be observed. I know usual ideas of the soul and sin it may be
of no higher power than human intelli- expected that I also reject the idea of
genoe, which has created all religions *‘free will.” This is true as far as ulti-
and ideas of God. mate belief in its existence is concerned.

The il^, as usually imagined, is as but the concept of a free will is a very
supemal^al as God and as hard for a useful one which need not be abandoned
true physicist to believe in. 'While I do merely because it is false. Though usa>
not tliiwir that I am merely a haphasard ally based on a mistaken idea, free will
collection of lifeless molecules, whatever is one of our most valuable fictions, one
I am, or my mind is, more than that that is useful for the concise description
clearly seems to be the result of the com- of the process by which we make the
hltintinw and organization of molecules, multitude of decisions neoessaty in
This result of combination is not matter everyday life. Nearly the same idea is
in the ordinary sense of something hav- express^ by Planck in Philosophy
ing mass, but it is material in the sense of Physics”: ”Our consciousness . . ,
that it can produce physical eileets, and assures us that free will is suprmne. Te^
it is affected by ph^eal conditions in ... we might say that lo<A;ed at from
the body. The fact t^t neither I nor outside (objeetivdy) the will is eansally
any one else yet knows how conscious- detemnined, and that kxdced at from in^
ness results fimn the combination of side (subjectively) it is free.” ihe
ttoleoides into cells and tianies is not a more one's decisions are made by a free
ealid MVomcnt tint it can not so result, will which is the r^t ratiottBl
er even that we can nev« know how, fliought and <ff dear ideas of one's de-
\ rde in many reUgio&s dres and of the eonseqnances of one's

* 4

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

aetioni, rather than h7 emotional
free wffl, the more wise and intelligent
(me ean claim to be and the happier one
should succeed in being.

That every humsa action is a physical
phenomenon determined by present and,
indirectly, by past physical conditions
is a conclusion that becomes more and
more certain as one studies the structure
of the human body and its behavior un-
der varying conditions as a problem in
physics. Here I am using physics in the
general sense, the science of matter and
energy and their transformations, to in-
clude all natural sciences such as chem-
istry and biology. Determinism seems
unquestionable, and the existence of a
free will, an immaterial soul or spirit
which ean make decisions independent
of physical conditions, seems impossible
when one studies the process of making
decisions and attempts to analyse some
typical elementary choices, and finds
that apparently the choices depend on
present conditions and past history. In
my own case, the only one of wUch I
have full and immediate knowledge, I
have many times made as impersonal
and as scientific an analysis as possible
of my choices. Each time 1 was forced '
to the conclusion that the decision was
determined by the situation I faced, and
by my condition at the time, which con-
dition was Hie result of previous experi-
ence. When I have tried to find out
why I made a particular choice I have
been able to see memories of past experi-
ences which inclined me one way or the
other, usually some each way, so that
the decision was the result of conflicting
forces, with the strongest finally win-
ning out By ‘‘forces” I do not mean
the usual mechanical forces of physics
but analogous fictions which, loosely
speaking, seem to cause psychological
phenomena in the same way that me-
chanical forces seem to cause mechan-
ical phenomena.

To describe one of even the idmplest

of these forces in tenna of the struct ur e
and conneeticHis of the nerve eella which
produce the pqrchological phenommia
would be very difficult It would be
practically impossible to describe the
force in terms of the ultimate atomic
structure of the body cells by means of
some fuivdamental physical law such as
Dirac's wave equation for the electron,
generalised to apply to all other funda-
mental particles such as protons and
neutrons. Yet I have faith that sn(ih an
ultimate physical explanation is possible
in principle, and is merely too compli-
cated to carry out at present. The word
faith is appropriate here since my belief
in the possibility of ultimate detailed
explanation lacks proof by actual per-
formance, although it is upheld by in-
creasingly detailed explanations that
have been carried out. Faith, I would
say, is belief in something unproven or
unprovable that gives the believer plea-
sure. Beliefs in Ck>d, the soul and im-
mortality are good examples of common
faiths. Though I do not possess these
faiths, I do have others, and do not mean
to imply that faith is to be avoided en-
tirely. For instance, one of my faiths is
the fundammital belief of the physical
scientist that the universe is orderly
and understandable. AlHiough this can
never be completely proven, it is made
plausible by the fact that many events
and processes in nature have hem found
to be orderly and understandable, and it
pves me great pleasure to believe it, the
pleasure of tl^ anticipation oi the
knowledge and power to be gained by
studying the universe. In Hie same way,
contemplation of the posHbility of ex-
plaining all physical phenomena, even
those amasingly complex ones called
vital phenomena, by means of a sini^e
unified theory gives me a wonderfo]^
pleasant fedkg of the antieipathm of
power.

The problem of free vHU and choiee
bec(Mnea clearer if one approaehas it S(fi-

PHYSICIST'S VIEW OF ETHICS

158

entifloally, trying to find the beet ez-
planaticm for a typical occurrence each
as two persona meeting with the same
situation, or situations which are prao>
tically identical as far as essential con-
ditions are concerned, but reacting dif-
ferently. Three types of explanation
may be offered: First, the choice of re-
action is absolutely unpredictable, so
that no amount of knowledge of the situ-
ation or of the people would make it
possible to predict the outcome. Sec-
ond, the choice is determined by the free
will or arbitrary choice of the persons
involved. Third, the choice is deter-
mined by the physical conditions char-
acteristic of the situation, and by the
relation of these conditions to the physi-
cal structure of the person meeting the
situation, which structure is the result
of previous physical conditions. In
more familiar terms, the choice is deter-
mined by the character of the person
and the way the situation looks to him
in the light of his past experience. The
first, which hardly deserves the name
explanation, denies without reason the
applicability of science to human ac-
tions. The second is quite simple and
does not obviously conflict with a scien-
tific study of human behavior, but re-
quires the observed phenomena consti-
tuting human actions to be separated
from all other observed phenomena, and
to be treated by an entirely different
method which is rendered unsatisfac-
tory by the admission of an umneasur-
al^ factor that is observable only by
means of effects produced without ap-
parent relation to any past or present
drcumstanoe.

Some people who have faith in this
aeeond way of explaining a choice be-
tween alternative courses of action, but'
do not realiae the full implioationk <ff
Budi an attitude, have tried to rational-
iae it, and give ttomselves an opening to
brbiil ia free ttiU, by adting on the
HdtMbeff prindple of uncertainty.

Th^ do not know what kind of uncer-
tainty the principle deals with, yet they
imply that even the phytidst has given
up determinism, apparently because tm-
eertainty sounds as if it is incompatible
with determinism. Heisenberg’s prin-
ciple does not conflict with a determin-
istic view of physics. It simply states
that conjugate dynamical variables can
not be measured simultaneously with
unlimited precision. This bars the pos-
sibility of measuring the exact present
condition of the universe, and then cal-
culating its future conditiona from the
results of the measurements, even if the
rules of calculation were known. But it
does not deny a causal connection be-
,tween the present and future. The
Heisenberg principle is merely a precise
statement of the observed fact that there
is an unavoidable interaction between
the observing apparatus and the object
observed.

Probably the best example of an ele-
mentary process to which the uncer-
tainty principle applies is the collisi<m
of an electron with a photon, called a
Compton collision. Many such colli-
sions have been observed in cloud cham-
bers; in every thoroughly investigated
case, energy and momentum were found
to be conserved within the limits of ac-
curacy of observation. Nothing is more
typical of deterministic law than the
laws of the conservation of momentum
and energy. These laws relate funda-
mental physical properties of a system
at one time to those at another time in
the simplest possible way, by the rda-
tion of equality.

Though it is extremely important in
individual quantum mechanical proc-
esses, the uncertainty principle becomes
unimportant in the consideration of
processes involving large numbms of
atoms, as most bodily processes do.
When large numbers are involved sta-
tistical laws apply with great accuracy.
The small discrepancies between tiie re-

THE SCiENTIBTO MONTffiiY

'1S4

salts of observation and the predictions
of statistical law leave little room for
freedom of choice.

Closely related to free will is another
useful fiction — self-control. Obviously

a can not really control himself any
more than he can lift himself by his
bootstraps. The ides is logically self-
contradictory, but it often furnishes a
convenient abbreviated way of describ-
ing an important psychological phenom-
enon. The common expression, “a
stru gg le between higher and lower
selves,” is somewhat more accurate than
self-control, but it assumes that higher
and lower are absolutely defined, and it
is oversimplified in that it neglects the
fact that the splitting into two selves,
takes place in different ways on differ-
ent issues. The exercise of self-control
in the usual situation requiring a deci-
sion is more accurately described as fol-
lows: A man having a complex mental
nature resulting from years of develop-
ment and experience is confronted with
a situation in which he sees two fairly
distinct alternative courses to pursue.
Some parts of his mind— psychological
forces or whatever you wish to call them
— ^tend to produce the choice of one of
the alternatives, while other parts of the
same mind tend the other way. In the
case of a situation involving a moral
issue, one of the courses is called yield-
ing to temptation. The other is called
resisting temptation, and the person
choosing it is said to have used self-
control. The psychological mechanism
operating is the same in a case involv-
ing no moral issue, say the choice of the
color of a hat, as in a case with a moral
issue, although the strength of the con-
flicting forces may be much less. The
choice that is made in any particular
case depends, exactly as one should ex-
pect, both upon the nature of the
and of the situation in which he finds
himself.

The development of self-control is

then nothing but mental devdi^pmesit
and training which strengthens that
side of the min d that tends in the gaa-
eral direction of resisting temptatum.
Though the faculty of self-control is
one of our highest faculties, ranking
with understanding and intelligence, its
development by a long process of adap-
tation to environment is an essentially
selfish process, as adaptation always is.
It is generally considered that a well-
developed faculty of self-control is nec-
essary for a well-bolanoed mind. With
this I agree, tiiough I do not believe in
self-control as most people conceive of
it. I try to use as much self-control as
possible, because I believe that I will
enjoy life better and on a higher level
if I can be as much as possible eonseioas
of what I am doing, and for what pur-
poses I am doing it, and choose my
course of action with regard for others
and for the future, rather than let habit
and thoughtless emotion be my guide.
This is not to imply that emotion is to be
eliminated in favor of reason. Though
we may try to live by reason, it is al-
ways emotion that we live for. Reason-
ing should be used to distinguish be-
tween good and bad emotions, between
those, on one hand, that are shortsighted
or low or poorly developed and those, on
the other han^ that are far-sighted or
high or well developed and that do not
conflict with the happiness of others.
Reason is the means; emotion is the end.

The concept of self-control may be
somewhat clarified by cmnparing it with
devices for controlling physical quanti-
ties such as temperature or dectrieal
potential There are three parte essential
to a controlling device: First, a standard
to which the variable con be compared,
directly or indirectly; second, a means
for detecting deviations of tite. variable
from the standard;, third, a means for
correcting the deviations, whidi is actu-
ated by the detecting means. 8df -coni-
trol of conduct reqnisM tinree similar

A PHYSICIST’S VIEW OP ETHICS

15g

thioirB: Pint, thfl eociiteiiM of ao idea
of a standard of eonduet or of the par*
tieolar phase of conduct to be controlled ;
second, the ability to perceive deviations
of conduct from the standard ; third, the
abili^ to make corrective changes in
conduct in accoidance with the perceived
deviations.

I do not think that 1 have proved any-
thing in the foregoing paragraphs,
chiefly because proof, as most people
conceive of it, is impossible. Matters
of objective fact have their accuracy
limited by the errors of measurement,
while a conclusion involving an abstract
idea has its certainty limited by the
limited clarity of conception of the ideas
involved. To prove an abstract theorem
to another, one can only indicate to him
the processes by which one became con-
vinced of its truth, and hope that he will
see the truth. Whether or not he does
see it, or thinks he sees it, vnll depend
on many factors in his previous experi-
ence as well as on the absolute truth one
attributes to the theorem. My feeling is
that no truth exists in the conclusion of
a theorem that does not exist implicitly
in tile deflnitions of the ideas involved.
When I derive a proof 1 am only com-
pleting, by exploring their implications,
the de^tions of the ideas with which
X Btarted. I see no self-evident trutii in
axioms or postulates. They are merely
disguised deflnitions which describe
proj^erties of the entitiee we have in-
vented* Though there is no absolute
standard of truth any more than there

is an absolute standard of good .and
evil, there are two types of relative truth
that can be recognised. One is internal
self-eonaistanoy, such as a physical ‘
theory or a branch of mathematics may
possess. The other is mctemal eonsis-
tmicy, such as the agreement of the
predictions from a theory with the re-
sults of observation. A critical analysis
thus seems to leave nothing of truth
except lack of contradiction, yet the
concept of truth is one of our noblest
and most useful Actions, one that we
could hardly dispense with. A theorem
may then be said to be true if its con-
clusion is consistent with and logically
following from its premises. In any
particular case, this consistency and
logical coimection must be judged ac-
cording to the personal standards of
the person desiring to know whether
the ^eorem is true or not Though in
many cases fairly general agreement can
be reached as to what is true or what is
just, in the end every man’s truth is his
own as is every man’s justice.

Although this article was written
partly in answer to that of Professmr
Conklin, I think that I have written in
the same spirit as he in tracing the natu-
ral development of the highest types of
thinking, including ethical thought, from
simple origins. In agreement with my
general thesis I may add that I consider
the writing of this essiy a selfish act on
my part. I have obtained pleasure from
it already and hope to obtain more from
it in the future.

THE TROPICAL PLANTATION SYSTEM

By Dt. lbo waxbbl

THK JORMB HOPKurs Dmvnsm

The plantation STStem is a form of
agriculture in the tropics of great eco-
nomic, social and political interest. In
order to characterize this form of
economy, we must answer three ques-
tions; 'What are plantations t What is
their geographical distribution t What
are the origins of the plantation system f

A plantation is not only an agricul-
tural undertaking ; it is also an industrial
enterprise. It not only produces agri-
cultural products; it also prepares them
and makes them fit for transportation.
This it must do, for it does not produce
for its own nee^ as does the native, but
for the market and especially for the
market of the temperate zones. These
markets, however, are remote from the
tropics, and, moreover, in order to reach
them the ships have to pass through the
hot, humid tropical latitudes.

In regard to the distribution of the
plantation system, we note that it is
found only in the tropics and the sub-
tropics; tliey have long and in parts
uninterrupted growing periods for vege-
tation, during which they produce cer-
tain valuable agricultural products that
are lacking in the temperate zones. A
great demand for these products, how-
ever, does not lead necessarily to the
plantation system. In the Asiatic
tropics, for example, spices have been
produced for centuries by native
peasants and have been taken by foreign
traders (Chinese and Arabs) to the mar-
kets of the Far East and of the Occident.
And to-day other products, such as oot-
tw, kapok and copra, are produced
either exclusively or preponderantly 1^
the natives of the Netherlands East
Indies for foreign markets. These
products, which do not require difficult
preparation and which can be easily

transported, do not require the planta-
tion ss^stem for their suecessfol produc-
tion.

On the other hand, the natives of the
Netherlands East Indies produce only a
scant one per cent, of the exported
sugar, although they grow sugar-cane
for their own needs. They use, however,
either the fresh sap of the cane or make
a brown, sirup-like mass which can not
be transported but must be consumed on
the spot The natives are not capable of
producing solid brown or white sugar,
for to do this they would need, besides
the sugar-cane, capital for constructing
costly special sugar mills and they
would have to have highly scientific and
technical knowledge to operate them.

The plantation system, therefore, is
found only in the tropics because it is
there that crops are grown that require
not only much unskilled labor but also
highly technical knowledge and last in^
vestments in processing plants and
equipment to prepare the products for
shipment to distant markets. The re-
sult is that the natives must fit into a
strange industrial order.

This industrialization is especially
necessaty in the cultivation of sugar-
cane (and of sugar-beet in the temperate
zones), because the easily perishable
juice must be transformed into a product
of stone-like hardness, the sweet salt, as
the natives say. Other tropical plants—
such as coffee, cocoa, tea, dndiona, cot-
ton, sisal and mbber—require ■imiUv
industrial processes, eqMcially trhen a
product of high value is to be produced.
Industrialization, so unsuited by its veiy
nature to ihie agrieultiue of the tempeis
ate zones, is therefore the most isqwKta^
characteristic <ff the plantation aysteitt.

Division of labor and a on»oro|»

THE TEOPICAL PLANTATION STSTEll

167

eooBonqr go hand in band with agriool*
taral indnatrialmtion. It ia 'well kno^
that moat plantationa raiae only one
crop, anch as augar-cane or coffee or
aiaal, beoaiue each of these prodnota re-
qnirea ita own apeoial machinery. Rota-
tion of cropa is, therefore, impossible
even in the growing of annual plants.
As a consequence the soils are rapidly
exhausted and new ones have to be
continually prepared for oultivation.

This very one-sided economic aystem,
which we call monoculture, results in
great instabilily and a sensitivity to
crises. Climatic changes, plant diseases,
political troubles, new technical inven-
tions and above all the market prices
interfere gravely with the life of a plan-
tation. It is thus understandable that
some plantation areas have changed their
products and their mechanical instal-
lations at frequent intervals. In the
nineteenth* century Ceylon, for example,
produced successively cinnamon, coffee,
cinchona, tea and rubber. Similar
changes took place at the end of the
eighteenth and at the beginning of the
nineteenth century in the West Indies.

The same unrest and instability are
manifested in the migration of planta-
tion products. It is sufficient to call to
mind the spread of coffee culture from
Abyssinia to Arabia and southeast Asia,
and then to the New World, where there
considerable shifting of coffee culti-
vation within the American tropics, and
finally to the recent completion of the
circle back in Africa.

Since the installation of expensive
machines piQ^s only if production is on
a large scale, it. follows that the planta-
tions are almost always large estates
of several hundred to several thousand
atom These large areas require, as do
the asKMiated factories, a great number
of laborers. The labor proUem is thus
of paramount imfnrta^ to the planta-
tion and this demand for plantation
Itimiws was fundamentally re(q>ottsible

for the former Negro slave trade, as VQdl
as for to-day’s great labor migration
-within the Anatic tropics. Finally, the
management of the fields and factories,,
and the sale of the products as wdl, must
be in the hands of trained specialists.
Since as a rule natives lack training and
expeiienee, it is generally true that only
Europeans (in the cultural sense of that
word) are fitted to be managers of plan-
tation enterprises.

A plantation is, therefore, a large
agricultural and industrial enterprise,
managed as a rule by Europeans, whidi,
at great expense of labor and capital,
raises highly valuable agricultural prod-
ucts for the world market.

Turning to the question of the origin
of this very special type of economy, it
is not surprising to learn that it is closely
connected -with the fabrication of solid
white sugar. Earl Bitter, the great Qer-
man geographer, reached this conclusion
a century ago, but his results have been
forgotten even by German geographers.
According to this famous scholar, the
refining of sugar was invented in
the seventh or eighth century ▲.D. in the
Persian pro-vince of Chusistan (in the
lower course of the Tigris and Euphrates
Rivers), where European-Oriental sci-
ence came into direct contact with the
production of tropical sugar-cane. From
the beginning sugar refining has gone
hand in hand -with the plantation system,
and both have had a spectacular migra-
tion around the earth within the tropical
and subtropical sones.

The Arabs laid out sugar plantstitms
in the Mediterranean area, from them
the Venetians and Gtenoese learned the
science and the art of making sugar, and
from them, in turn, the Spaniards and
Portuguese. The two last nations carried
the oriental type of agriculture and the
Asiatic plant to the West African islaads
of Madeira and the Canaries, and from
here it was taken to the tropics, and
frond its first ekssic tropical dovetc^

188 THE SCIBNTiFIO MONTHLY

ment, in the closing jears of the fifteenth
centniy, on the small Portuguese
island of Saint Thom4, in the inner Ckdf
Quines. In 1492, when Columbus
started on his great discoveries, the
sugar plantation sjrstem was well estab-
lished on this island.

But these small West African islands
soon lost their significance as sugar-pro-
ducing centers when sugar-cane culti-
vation, together with the plantation
lystem, was extended to the New World:
to Santo Domingo in 1519 and to Brazil
in 1531. Here much lai^er areas suit-
able for sugar-cane cultivation were
available, and, in addition, the cane did
not have to be irrigated, as it did in
Madeira, the Canaries and the Mediter-
ranean areas. Therefore, in spite of the
greater distance of America from the
European market, its sugar could be
sold much cheaper, as is evidenced by
the rapid fall of sugar prices in the siz-
teenth century.

The capital needed for the American
sugar plantations was supplied by mer-
chants of Lisbon (apparently many
Jews), and by nobles who had acquired
weal^ in the spice trade of East India.
Only laborers were scarce or even en-
tirely lacking, but this problem was
solved in an ingenious but cruel mi^er
by the importation of African Negro
slaves. Thus every continent had a
share in the rise of the plantation sys-
tem in the New World: Europe fur-
nished the capital, Asia the sugar-cane, -
Africa the laWers, and the Americans
the climate and soil.

The plantation B}nBtem as we know it
to-day had its first development in the
American tropics. Here also for the
first time crops other than sugar-cane
were raised under this type of economy :
indigenous tobacco, cotton, cocoa and,
most surprisingly, in the middle of the
eighteenth century, African coffee. In
the Mrly days small and middle-sized
holdings often developed near large

plantations to grow these now etap$, but
our knowledge ot these t 31 Ms of agrieol-
tural economy is very limited. Until the
beginning of the nineteenth century all
these types of enterprises were found
only along the coast of Brazil and in the
French and British West Indian Islands.

The. Negro revolt in French Haiti in
1789 and the abolition of slavery in the
English colonies in 1833 shook the plan-
tation system, which until that timA had
been very stable, to its very roots
caused a new migration. Then for the
first time the plantation qrstem reached
veiy significant proportions on the
Spanish islands of Cuba and Puerto
Bico, spread to the continent, and de-
veloped in Venezuela, Colombia and Cen-
tral America, where indigo and, even
more important, coffee were the chief
products. Coffee plantations now also
began to migrate through Brazil.

Much more extensive in area, however,
and economically more important, was a
kind of retrograde shifting of the plan-
tation system from America over Africa
to Asia, whence its migration had begun
a thousand years earlier. The rise of
steamship transportation and the later
opening of the Suez Canal favored the
development of these new plantation
areas, as did the continuation of davory
in tropical Africa until 1880 and the
availability of a large number of cheap
laborers in tropical Asia.

In tropical Africa, which is very dilft-
cult of access and is mhabited by tree
Negroes who resist attempts to force
them to work for wages, the plantation
system is still unimportant Only on
the islands of Saint Thom5, Mauritius
and Bfiunion has the plantation qrstem
attained great significance nnoe 1880.

In the islands and peninsulas of trap-
ical Asia, however, the plantation qrstem
has become the predominant type of
economy. Here even ^ose plants iriiioh .
in other tn^ieal regions were simpb^
acquired by a gathering eoonmay are

THE TBOPIOAL PLANTATION OTSTBM

159

ndwtd on pUmtataons; among fhsM are
einehona, rubber and rMentlj the Afri*
ean oil-palm. The tranaferring of enl-
tivated plants from one eontinent to
the other required great expenditures
of money for scientific research, espe-
cially for plant-breeding and seed selec-
tion. The private entrepreneur was not
fitted for this purpose, and therefore in
the Asiatic tropics the plantation system
was developed by joint stock companies.
In the same manner and with the same
success the newest branch of tropical
American plantations — ^the banana cul-
ture — ^was built up for the market of the
United States on a large-scale capital-
istic basis. The capital here is needed
not for the cultivation or preparation
of the product, but for its transporta-
tion in special freighters.

The economic and social life of the
tropics has been widely infiuenced by
the plantation system. The Europeans
brought capital and knowledge, the coim-
tries contributed soil and the natives
labor. In this process the natives were
often deprived of their land, uprooted
from their social environment and trans-
formed into a landless proletariat, de-
spite the abundance of land in the
tropics. Therefore, many people con-
dem the plantation system per ee and
propose to leave the entire production
of tropical goods to the natives. Besides
these social and economic aspects, more
and more ethical considerations are ad-
vanced by liie opponents of the planta-
tion system. The welfare and progress
of the natives, in their opinion, should
be the only, or at least the dominant ob-
jective of colonial pdioy. Under no
oonditions, they say, should the natives
be depriv^ of their land, because only
on their own soil do they have the oppor-
of preserving their national life.

In oppodtion to this ethical conoep-
thka the adherefitl of the plantation
gy a i t em <dler eeonomie arraments. The
they point out, because of their

primitive economic methods are not fitted
to produce all tropical goods ao necessary
for the inhabitants of the higher lati-
tudes. Such products as sugar, sisal,-
quinine, etc., which require industrial
preparation, can be grown only by Euro-
peans (the word used in its cultural
sense) and not by the natives. Even in
growing products which can be easily
prepared, such as tobacco, coffee, cocoa,
tea, etc., the natives are far behind the
European plantations in the quality of
their products. Only in the growing of
annuid plants, such as cereals, ground-
nuts, cotton, etc., which require little or
no preparation, are the natives superior
to the Europeans. It is not simply a
question of plantation system or peasant
economy ; both types are, in the opinion
of these proponents, necessary for tiie
development of the tropics.

Keeping in mind these two points of
view, others are pleading for a collabora-
tion between Europeans and natives on
the basis of equal rights and equal duties.
To the common production, the native
should contribute his land and his labor,
and the European his capital and his
technique. The returns should be di-
vided between the two partners accord-
ing to certain principles. Unfortu-
nately, ihe application of this very
simple and obvious proposal is almost
impossible because of the fact that both -
partners are very different in racial, cul-
tural and social characteristics, that most
natives lack the moral basis for such a
collaboration and most Europeans the
social will for it. Only under economic
pressure has such a collaboration thus
far succeeded, notably in the cultivation
of sngar<<cane, which is relatively simple
to grow but very difficult to prepare.
In the Fiji Islands, Mauritius, the West
Indies and Brasil to-day the natives
raise the cane and sell it to the whites,
who process it in large central factories.
This procedure has the ethical disad-
vantage that the nativM are, for the

160

. THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

most part, not the owners of the land,
but only tenants who can be discharged
at any time if they do not fulfil their
duties.

To remedy the defects of the present
policy, English colonial politicians are
pleading for another system that will do
justice to the natives as well as to the
economic interests of the Europeans.
Under this proposal the state would
mediate between the independent peas-
ant and the white entrepreneur, regulat-
ing by legislation the rights of the Euro-
peans and the duties of the natives.
This principle, called by M. Leake
‘triple partnership,'' found its first
practical application in the cotton cul-
tivation of Gezirah (Egyptian Sudan).
There the European employer is repre-
sented by the Sudan Plantations Syndi-
cate, which is a kind of Chartered Com-
pany but without rights on the land.
The land belongs to the natives, who are
required to till it in a precisely pre-

scribed manner. The syndicate proc-
esses the cotton and carries out the irri-
gation and all commercial activities
under the regulations, the barrage and
the main canals having been built by
the state. The profit is divided in equal
parts among the three partners.

This principle seems to be suited es-
pecially to dry regions (Indus, Niger),
where expensive projects are required
for irrigation. But even in those humid
regions of the tropics where large areas
are not opened and must be developed
by means of communication, this prin-
ciple should be successful, because it
combines the advantage of the planta-
tion system with that of the peasant
economy and avoids as much as possible
the disadvantages of both. This, of
course, supposes that Europeans and
natives are psychologically prepared for
such collaboration and that there is an
enterprising state to guarantee its legal
foundation.

THE RACE CONCEPT IN BIOLOGY

By THEODOSIUS DOBZHANSKY

PB0FS880E or ZOOLGOY, COLUMBIA UNIVXB81TY

The perennial discussion of the nature analysis of the underlying causes of this
of races, particularly of those in man, variety is attempted,
has become especially lively, frequently A race defined as a system of averages
acrimonious and notoriously inconclu- or modal points is a concept that belongs
sive during the last decade. Although to the pre-Mendelian era, when the
the problem obviously is in part a bio- hereditary materials were pictured as a
logical one, biologists have, with few continuum subject to a diffuse and
exceptions, disdained to take part in the gradual modification. Genetics has es-
debate. An apparently good reason for tablished that the hereditary material,
this forbearance is that the debate on the germ-plasm, is not a perfect con-
the ^^race problem” is not conducted on tinuum, but rather a sum of discrete
a scientific plane at all. Yet biologists particles, genes, which change one by
can not escape a part of the blame for one by mutation. This is no trifling dis-
the disrepute in which the race problem tinction, and its corollaries must be
has fallen. The plain fact is that in appreciated. If germ-plasms could
biology itself no clear definition of what blend with each other as a water-soluble
constitutes a race has been evolved. The dye commingles with water, every inter-
existing concepts are either fundamen- breeding population would soon reach a
tally unsound or so ambiguous as to be reasonable uniformity, and every indi-
of little use for rigorous thinking. The vidual would in a very real sense be a
refined analytical methods of modern child not only of its parents but of its
genetics may permit a better insight into race as well. A ”pure race” would be
this problem to be gained than was pos- formed in each locality occupied by the
Bible in the past, but the work in this species. With the germ-plasm being
field is now barely begun. The purpose particulate, the variety of genes present
of the present article is to outline the in a population tends to be preserved
salient features of the situation. intact indefinitely ; the genetic constitu-

Most taxonomists and anthropologists tion of an individual does not neces-
cling perforce to the habit of describing sarily lie midway between those of its
races in terms of averages of morpho- parents; some of the genes of an indi-
logical and sometimes of physiological vidual may resemble those commonly
and psychological characters. We are present in the population from which it
told that the average Eskimo has such- sprung, while other genes may be iden-
and-such a height, cephalic index and tical with those usually found in repre-
intelligence quotient, while different sets sentatives of another race. Except in
of figures are given for the average Qer- asexually reproducing organisms, pure
man or Hottentot. This method is, be- races can be formed only under very ex*
cause of its simplicity, undeniably con- ceptional circumstances (a long-con-
venient for a rough description of the tinned inbreeding of close relatives),
observed variety of humans or of other Since the germ-plasm is particulate, the
living beings. The trouble is that it variation within a population can ade-
leads to a hopeless confusion when an quately be described only in terms of

161

162

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

the frequencies of the variable gene
alleles and of their combinations. Dif-
ferences between populations must like-
wise be stated in terms of the differences
in the frequencies of genes present in
them.

A geneticist can define races as popu-
lations that differ from each other in the
frequencies of certain genes. The ob-
vious fiaw in such a definition is that
differences in gene frequencies may be
quantitatively as well as qualitatively of
diverse orders. The statement that two
populations are racially distinct really
conveys very little information regard-
ing the extent of the distinction. This
can be made evident by a series of ex-
amples illustrating the different degrees
of racial separation. The examples
given below concern mostly lower organ-
isms, and particularly the small flies
belonging to the genus Drosophila. The
reader may be inclined to question the
applicability of the conclusions reached
through studies on this material to or-
ganisms in general, and particularly to
man. Although in dealing with man the
complications resulting from his social
organization must not be lost sight of,
the laws of heredity are the most univer-
sally valid ones among the biological
regularities yet discovered. The mecha-
nisms of inheritance in man, in the
Drosophila flies, in plants and even in
the unicelluars are fundamentally the
same. The race concept is very widely
applicable, at least among the sexually
reproducing forms of both the animal
and the plant kingdoms. It can be eluci-
dated most effectively through use of a
favorable material, which is, for techni-
cal reasons, readily amenable to the ap-
plication of the experimental and quan-
titative methods of modern genetics.

The fly Drosophila pseudoohscura is a
species widely distributed in western
North America. Although its represen-
tatives from any part of its geographic
range appear to be similar externally,

genetic analysis reveals a considerable
variability under the guise of external
uniformity. The variability concerns
both the gene arrangement and the gene
contents of the chromosomes. Genic
variability is displayed in the occurrence
of mutant genes that affect the external
structures, viability, development rate
and other characters. Most of the mu-
tants are recessive to the “normal’^ con-
dition, and rare enough so that only
heterozygotes occur in natural popula-
tions.

None of the populations of Drosophila
pseudoohscura so far examined proved
genetically um^m; in every one of
them some ittlll^uak carried chromo-
some structureii and mutant^j||toes not
present in others. Every j^pulation
may be characterized by the incidence
of the genetic variants present in it.
Comparison of populations from differ-
ent localities usually shows them to be
unlike, since some of the genetic variants
present in one either do not occur at all
or occur with different frequencies in
others. It is astonishing that even con-
tiguous localities may harbor different
populations. In forms which can move
only very slowly, such as land snails,
differences of this kind have been known
for many years. Yet similar differences
are observed in the much more mobile
Drosophila. In one instance a statisti-
cally significant racial” difference has
been observed between populations of
localities abdut 100 meters apart, al-
though the intervening terrain contains
no obvious barriers that could impede
the migration of the flies. Mobility of
an individual organism does not always
prevent an extremely fine subdivision of
the population of a species into local
races. Studies of Dahlberg and others
suggest that such a subdivision may
occur also in man, since the incidence of
certain genes may be different in popu-
lations of neighboring villages.

More unexpected still is the fact that

THE BAOE CONCEPT IN BIOLOGY

163

the genetic composition of a population
of Drosophila pseudoobscura does not
remain constant with time. In certain
populations from California the inci-
dence of various chromosome structures
has been observed to change not only
from year to year but from month to
month. The causes of such alterations
are as yet not clear. The most probable
conjecture is that the food sources are
unevenly distributed in the territory in-
habited by the flies, and that a single or
a few individuals which first reach and
monopolize an abundant food supply
leave an offspring large enough to im-
press their individual characteristics on
the population of the surrounding area.
As shown by Sewall Wright on basis of
theoretical considerations, both temporal
changes and a gradual drifting apart of
the genetic composition of local colonies
are expected to occur where the effective
sizes of local populations are limited. It
seems, then, that local populations may
be effectively small even in species pos-
sessing as good locomotion means as
Drosophila. Perhaps an analogous situa-
tion in man is the occurrence of villages
in which some family name, the heritage
of a prolific early settler, is much more
frequent than in the population of the
surrounding territory. However that
may be, changes in the racial composi-
tion of local populations may be observed
in nature well within a human lifetime.
Evolutionary changes in nature are not
too slow to be observed directly.

The drifting apart and the conse-
quent racial differentiation of local
populations is a process which, by itself,
can not be regarded as an adaptation to
the environment. " It is rather the fore-
runner of an adaptive differentiation.
Genetic changes which arise in a species
are subject to natural selection which
eliminates the unfit and preserves the
valuable variants and the populations in
which such variants become frequent.
Since the environment is seldom uni-

form throughout the distribution area,
the species differentiates into local races
that are adjusted each to the environ-
ment prevailing in its particular hab-
itat. Such local races, termed by Tures-
son ecotypes, do not, as a rule, form con-
tinuous populations over large parts of
the species area. They recur wherever
the proper environment is available,
while the intervening localities are occu-
pied by different ecotypes or not inhab-
ited by the species at all. Ecotypic dif-
ferentiation has been described in many
plants by Turesson, J. Giausen, Gregor
and others; among animals this phe-
nomenon seems less wide-spread, pos-
sibly becaiise the mobility of most ani-
mals makes them less dependent than
the plants are upon the micro-environ-
ment of their habitat. Nevertheless,
Dice and Blossom have shown that in
the mammals of the North . American
desert the coat color becomes darker or
lighter, depending upon the prevailing
shade of the soil on which they live.
Dark ecotypes occur on the outcrop-
pings of lava, and light ones on stretches
of light sand. An important fact is that
ecotypic differentiation does not, as a
rule, involve the entire mass of indi-
viduals residing in any particular hab-
itat. Thus, the light average shade of
the coat color in mammals inhabiting
light sand is due merely to a greater
frequency of lightly colored specimens
in sandy localities, although the darkest
individuals on light soil may be much
darker than the lightest ones on dark
soil.

While the exigencies of adaptation to
the strictly local and recurring condi-
tions of the habitat lead to the forma-
tion of ecotypes, adaptation to more
general variations in the environment
results in formation of geographic races
(otherwise known as subspecies or eco-
species) which occupy more or less con-
tinuously definite parts of the species
area. Taxonomists are well aware of

164

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

the fact that the diiferences between
geographic races are slight in some cases
and much more striking in others.
Since the environment changes more or
less gradually as one passes from one re-
gion to another, the changes in the ap-
pearance of the species population may
be correspondingly gradual. Where a
definite geographic boundary between
races is discernible, the races are never-
theless found to merge into each other
in at least a narrow boundary zone.
This situation is described by taxono-
mists as “overlapping’’ or as preseru'e of
intermediates between the races. This
is a very misleading way of stating the
observed facts, for it implies the notion
of “pure races” the intermediates be-
tween which are sometimes formed. It
is more accurate to say that the fre-
quencies of the variable genes change
more or less gradually or abruptly dur-
ing the passage from one portion of the
species area to another. If the char-
acters distinguishing races are examined
one by one, geographically graded series
or, to use the term recently proposed by
Huxley, “dines” are encountered. The
dines in gene frequencies are what
cause the appearance of dines in the
outwardly visible characters. The naive
concept of pure races connected by in-
termediates must be replaced by the
more authentic one of the varying inci-
dence of definite genes. The idea of a
pure race is not even a legitimate ab-
straction; it is a subterfuge used to
cloak one’s ignorance of the nature of
the phenomenon of racial variation.

As a general rule, the further two
populations are removed geographically
the greater are the genetic differences
between them. In Drosophila pseudo-
ohscura^ this rule is infringed upon
chiefly where very small distances are
involved, since the fluctuations in the
composition of the population in any
one locality (see above) may be large

enough to obscure the more general geo-
graphical trends. Thus, the variations
in the local populations on Mount San
Jacinto, California, appear to be hap-
hazard. The localities from which these
population samples were taken are from
100 meters to about 25 kilometers apart.
Populations from Mount San Jacinto
and from the Death Valley region, a
distance of about 400 kilometers, are
difficult to distinguish if only small
samples are available. The difficulty is
alleviated if a number of large samples
from several localities in each region are
studied. Comparing the data for the
eastern and the western parts of the
Death Valley region. Mount San Ja-
cinto, Mount Wilson, San Bafael Moun-
tains and San Lucia Mountains, Cali-
fornia, we find pronounced east to west
racial dines. The populations inhabit-
ing Texas are, however, so different
from those of California that a single
small sample can be determined as com-
ing from one or the other of these re-
gions. Nevertheless, the ability to dis-
tinguish groups of individuals, popula-
tions, does not necessarily imply that
every individual may be classified as a
representative of one or the other races.
Thus, some individuals from Texas are
identical in chromosome structure with
those from California, although the
Texas and California races as groups
are undoubtedly distinct.

While the process of “raciation”
must be regarded as predominantly an
adaptive one, it does not follow that
every difference in the gene frequencies
is a direct result of natural selection.
Some of the characteristics distinguish-
ing races appear to be adaptively neu-
tral. Without going into the details of
this very perplexing problem, one may
say that the racial subdivisions of a
species are a product not only of the
environment now existing but also of a

THE EACE CONCEPT IN BIOLOGY

165

long historical process of evolutionary
development A race inhabiting a coun-
try is what it is, not only because it lives
there but also because it came from a
definite source, following a definite dis-
tribution path or paths.

Superior adaptive types, having orig-
inated in different parts of the species
area, may spread and finally confront
each other across a more or less narrow
boundary zone. Wlien this stage is
reached, the races may develop isolating
mechanisms that would prevent them
from interbreeding and hence from ex-
changing genes with each other. The
establishment of isolation connotes the
transformation of races into separate
species and is therefore outside the
scope of the present article. The point
which should be made clear here is that
a race becomes more and more a reality,
and less and less an abstraction, as it
approaches the speeies rank. Species
attain a degree of existential concrete-
ness which makes them independent ac-
tors in the drama of life. In terms of
this histrionic analog}% races of a species
may be likened only to members of a
choir. The prime xdiaracteristic of a
species is that individuals belonging to
it are prevented from interbreeding
with those of other speeies, but not with
each otlier, by physiological isolating
mechanisms. It is, therefore, legitimate
to speak of pure species (contrasting
them with hybrids between species).
Yet, identical gene variants continue to
occur in races that are well advanced

toward the species rank, as well as in
separate species.

The description of the racial composi-
tion of a species in terms of the varia-
tions in gene frequencies presupposes a
careful genetic analysis of the material
under study. Unquestionably, this is a
slow and difficult task, especially where,
as in man, the conditions for genetic
work are unfavorable. A satisfactory
insight into the nature and significance
of the racial differences in man demands
far more extensive and detailed infor-
mation than is now available on the
mode of inheritance of the characters
causing interracial, as well as intra-
racial, variability ; scientifically con-
trolled data on the manifestation of the
diverse genetic conditions in various en-
vironments; and a thorough knowledge
of the incidence of the determining
genes in the class, caste and race siib-
divisions of the mankind. Evidently,
this task can be accomplished only at
the expense of concerted efforts of many
scientists and organizations in different
parts of the world. Yet, the difficulty
of the task is not a sufficient reason to
(ding to the outworn methods of racial
study, the inadequacy of which is quite
plain, and still less is it a reason for
erecting far-reaching theories on the
basis of admittedly faulty data. To do
so would be a travesty on science. It is
said that Menaechmus warned Alex-
ander the Great that “There is no royal
road to mathematics.’’ There is no
royal road to genetics either.

RELIGIO SCIENTIAE

By CHAUNCBY D. LEAKE

PBOFESBOB OF PHABMAOOLOGY, UN1VEB8ITY OF CALIFORNIA

In the October Scientific Monthly
the Reverend John S. O^Conor, S. J., pro-
fessor of phj^sics, Georgetown University,
asks *‘Why do men of science refuse to
approach the subject of religion from a
scientific viewpoint ^ ^ ' The answer most
probably accurate for most of them is
that they are afraid to. The fear may be
not so much of the subject as of hurting
the feelings of the many people who are
intensely interested in it.

The purpose of this article is not so
much to try to answer the Reverend Pro-
fessor 0 ’Conor ^s question, as it is to try
to point out that his subsequent conven-
tional argument is scientifically question-
able. Many older and more considerate
scientists may wonder why any one
concerned with science should bother
with the Reverend Professor’s time-worn
arguments. He relates them by analogy,
however, to current physics. As a result,
practical and busy scientists or laymen
may feel that if the essay stands unchal-
lenged, no logical answer is possible.
While even slight sophistication in dia-
lectic may raise prompt doubt in the
casual scientific reader of the article, lack
of time on the reader’s part may prevent
adequate analysis to justify the skepti-
cism. I am venturing this challenge with
full realization that I am plunging into
philosophical wildernesses, without the
qualifications to pose as a competent
guide therein.

It is my feeling that the Reverend Pro-
fessor O’Conor welcomes discussion of
his article, for he may agree that debate
may help to clarify the problem, and to
stimulate more interest in it on the part
of scientists. It may be wise for scien-
tists these days to pay more attention to

the general implications of their efforts.
Philosophy still has a place in our intel-
lectual affairs if we can persuade our-
selves to attempt the co-ordination of our
general knowledge with our common de-
sires, as Dewey might put it. Walter
Lippmann in Preface to Morals,”
New York, 1929, reminds us that this
was part of the wisdom of Confucius, and
still is a function of religion.

For those scientists who may be seri-
ously interested in this matter, but who
may not be familiar with readily obtain-
able surveys of thoughtful opinion on it,
let me suggest consultation of the critical
bibliographical note at the end of H. L.
Mencken’s ” Treatise on the Gods,” New
York, 1930. The outstanding sources re-
main ”The Catholic Encyclopedia,” 16
vols., New York; J. Hasting’s ” Encyclo-
pedia of Religion and Ethics,” 13 vols..
New York, 1908, and A. D. White’s ”His-
tory of the War of Science with Theology
in Christendom,” New York, 1896. An
entertaining and fair summary of philo-
sophical development is Will Durant’s
“The Story of Philosophy,” New York,
1930, and Henry Alperin’s “The March
of Philosophy,” New York, 1934.

Definitionb

As the Reverend Professor O’Conor
points out, it is pertinent to begin our
discussion by trying to define our terms
in a maimer acceptable to all. While he
proposes a definition for religion, he neg-
lects to give similar consideration to sci-
ence.

Father 0 ’Conor says :

the etymological or aomiiial definition of re-
ligion is open to two interpretationa, one wfaieh
is based on the notion of a bond (from file

BELIGIO SCIENTIAE

167

Latin religare, to bind) and another which stems
from the Latin derivative relegere or religere, to
treat carefully^ to ponder or meditate. . . . An
unbiased study of the history of religions and
of comparative religion sustains a position which
maintains that, despite the presence of admix-
tures such as ancestor worship and accretions of
magic and witchcraft^ the notion of a super-
natural or supreme being is contained at least
implicitly in practically all religions. So that
on the Arst interpretation of the nominal defini-
tion of religion the idea of God is introduced his-
torically as the term of the bond between man
and a higher being, while on the second inter-
pretation this supreme being appears on the
same historical basis, as the object of man’s
meditations.

While this definition conforms to the
usual and conventional one, it is hardly
adequate for our problem, since it begs
the question and gives an answer in
which tlie Reverend Professor O’Conor is
interested. For our proposed discussion
would it not be simpler to define religion
more generally as the faith or belief one
has with respect to the relation between
one ’s self and one ’s environment ? There
is no logical or factual necessity of which
I am aware that requires that one’s faith
or religion either nominally or histori-
cally must include recognition of a super-
natural or a supreme being. That it
usually does historically is no reason why
it always must. According to the dic-
tionaries, current usage, limited though
it may be, permits the broader definition
which I have proposed.

We may also follow usage, as indicated
in the dictionaries, as a guide in defining
science. May we assume that science is
the body of agreed upon and objectively
demonstrable knowledge about ourselves
and our environment? If so, we may go
on with St. Thomas and say that where
science ends faith begins. On the basis
of these definitions one might say that
whereas religion is what one does or
wants to believe about one’s self and the
universe, science deals more with what is
logically and demonstrably permissible
to believe about one’s self and the uni-
verse. Science seems to be concerned

chiefly with estimating the limits to
faith, while dogmatic religion seems to be
more concerned with trying to guide the
steps of blind belief. Philosophically*
science tends to be materialistic, prag-
matic, realistic, while the trend of
religion is idealistic, intuitive, subjectiv-
istic.

Aim, Spirit and Method of Science and

Religion

More to the point would be to examine
the aim, spirit and method respectively of
science and religion. If these may be
harmonized, and I believe they may be,
then science may become a part of re-
ligion and vice versa. As forms of hu-
man activity they’re like the obverse and
reverse of the same coin. Religion repre-
sents the subjective approach to the
universe, science the objective. The dif-
ficulty may be simply that through
the chicanery of word symbolism the
devotees of both wish to be ‘•heads.”

In his preface to “The Direction of
Human Evolution,” New York, 1921,
Edward Grant Conklin attempts a defini-
tion of the aim, method and spirit of sci-
ence. He identifies the aim of science
with that of religion, to know the
“truth” about ourselves and our en-
vironment. By the abused idea symbol
• ‘ truth, ’ ’ he means an objectively demon-
strable and intellectually coherent ex-
planation of ourselves and the universe.
While appreciating the Platonic ideal of
absoluteness in “truth” as desirable, the
spirit of science suggests, as G. J. Her-
rick emphasizes^ tliat scientists recognixe
that knowledge of ourselves and our
environment is in the process of acquisi-
tion and agreement and will probably
always remain so. Scientists dodge Paul
Elmer More’s “Demon of the Absolute,”
Princeton, 1928, by admitting honestly
that what is called the “truth” about
ourselves and the universe is tentative
and subject to modification. It is not

1 Jour, FhUoaophy, 83: ICO, 1936.

168

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

clear that the spirit of religion suggests
to its devotees a similar relativeness for
** truth/ ^ Most religious leaders seem to
consider their particular * * truth ’ * as im-
mediately absolute, and therefore bind-
ing on every one, whether agreed to or
not.

The spirit of science, unlike its aim,
seems to be a little different from that of
religion. Conklin suggests that the spirit
of science is essentially concerned with
freedom to seek the ‘ ‘ truth. ’ ’ He empha-
sizes that the spirit of science implies not
only freedom to have and to express any
view for which there is rational evidence,
but also recognition that knowledge of
ourselves and the universe is incomplete
and subject to revision, and that there is
no legitimate compulsion to belief beyond
the voluntary acceptance of demon-
strably rational evidence.

It is not easy to try to describe the
spirit of religion, but it may be inferred
from the conduct of religious leaders,
whether one considers the great ones of
history or living preachers and churchly
dignitaries. The spirit of religion seems
to be blissfully naive, and intrigued by
the naturally improbable. It encourages
introspection, contemplation and self-
pity. It bathes in mysticism, is en-
thralled by symbolism and clothes itself
in vagueness. It seems to be fascinated
by magic and the incomprehensible, and
is not disturbed by the paradox of believ-
ing in the reality of the unreal. The
spirit of religion promotes prophecy, but
in a retributive or intuitive manner, far
removed from the sort of prediction ven-
tured by science on the basis of calculable
probability.

The spirit of religion seems to be con-
cerned greatly with the task of persuad-
ing people, by hope or fear, to socialize
their conduct. It promotes standards of
behavior, and assumes an ideal ethic.
Here a serious diflBculty arises. Refus-
ing to confine itself to the limits of scien-
tific knowledge, which it rejoices to

transcend, the spirit of religion roams as
far as the human imagination can go.
The resulting great variety of faith and
belief produces continual increase in the
astounding number of religious sects.
Even with the common basis of agreed
upon “authority'^ in the Bible, divergent
doctrines <levelop to the point of scandal
in Christianity, and compromise its
ethics, as Niebuhr tacitly admits.* Lack-
ing objective criteria or data on which
agreement may be arbitrated, as in sci-
ence, social harmony is difficult for re-
ligious leaders to obtain except by ap-
peals to some authority operating
through fear, hope or other emotional
force. The spirit of religion thus seems
to be reflected more in emotional reac-
tions than in intellectual responses.

George Santayana* might go on to com-
pare the spirit of religion to that of an
impatient, impulsive and very attractive
adolescent girl, who, when curbed by the
precise and pedantic spirit of science
(whom she would call “ inhuman
might petulantly cry, ‘‘You can't keep
me from dreaming." The spirit of sci-
ence seems to be tolerant enough to ap-
preciate the spirit of religion, to be at-
tracted to it as an object of study, and
indeed even to love it with nostalgic
remembrance of its own adolescence. On
the other hand, the ever young spirit of
religion, like Peter Pan, can hardly be
expected to have much regard for the
staid and preoccupied spirit of science
beyond an uncomprehending deference.
■Whether a marriage between them could
ever be consummated is as debatable as
whether such a marriage is desirable.

As I understand the situation, a scien-
tist can not take without protest the
Reverend Professor 0 'Conor's definition
of the method of science as being “one
which accepts facts and attempts to fit
them into a theory or system." This

An Interpretation of Christian Ethics,’^
London, 1936.

3 * * Reason and Religion,*’ New York, 1918.

RELIGIO SCIENTIAE

169

definition assumes a priori the theory or
system of thoup:ht, an assiimption which
may be questioned by a scientist, but not
by even so liberal a philosopher as Hup:h
Miller/ The method of science seems to
be more concerned with the establish-
ment of fact. The successful scientist is
usually pra{;:matic. lie may proceed in
either of two broad ways. In one he may
be chiefly empirical, by observinj^ and
describing as carefully as i)ossibhi some
phenomenon in his environment or him-
self, and then fro on to offer a tentative
explanation of it, the validity of which
he may then test by experiment, confirm-
infr or modifyirifr his ideas in accordance
with the results of such experiments.
This is the way of the life sciences. In
the other he may be more rationalistic.
He may indeed proceed somewhat alonfr
the way sufrfrested by the Keverend Pro-
fessor O^Conor, but in reverse. He may
try to build by experimental reason in"
within the strict limitations of lofrical
consistency, a coherent ideal system with
which some of the details of the universe
about us may be found, on experiment, to
correspond. This is the mathematical
way.

It seems to me that the usual method
of religion, which one may trace through
all history, and which one may find ex-
emplified in the Reverend Professor
0 ^Conor's “Approach,*^ is to assume
“Qod’^ and “immortality,^^ and then re-
late everything else in experience to these
assumptions. However dialectic it may
be, the method of religion is basically
anthropomorphic. In a Kantian sense
the method of science is anthropomorphic
also, but it implies deliberate discounting
of psychological or emotional factors. In
following the method of science, a scien-
tist must always guard against confusing
his symbols with what they may repre-
sent. In developing Aristotelian logic,
religious leaders have sometimes per-
mitted this confusion to carry them to

* * * History and Science, * * Berkeley, 1939.

conclusions impossible under more rigor-
ous scientific inquiry. The method of
religion seems to be directed toward the
gratification of the Microcosm, while the
method of science admits the limitations
imposed by the Macrocosm. Religion
may yet adopt the method of science, but
science can not consciously adopt the his-
torical methods of religion.

Authority in Science

Referring to scientists the Reverend
Professor O’Conor puts three subtly
leading questions, which, no matter how
answered categorically, might force the
unwary to accept a position incompatible
with the free spirit of science :

Are they asftvviing without reason that faith
and science are irreconcilable so that any attempt
at reconciliation is doomed to failure from the
start? Do tiny postulate without further ex-
amination that dogmatic religion is necessarily
and essentially incompatible with the scientific
method? Do they deny a priori that authority
as a source of true knowledge must be aban-
doned in principle? If they do then they are
no longer acting in the role of scientists but are
subscribing to propositions the truth or falsity
of which they show no evidence of having in-
vestigated.

To these questions, replies are ven-
tured which are framed in the light of
the definitions proposed for religion and
science. First, it is my opinion that all
scientists who have thoughtfully con-
sidered the matter appreciate the recipro-
cal relations of faith and knowledge, and
that they ordinarily reconcile religion
and science as far as the implications of
knowledge permit. Second, I think it is
clear from the attempted definitions that
dogmatic religion is incompatible with
the scientific method as long as dogmatic
religion requires the po.stulation of a first
and unproduced cause of the universe,
or of the necessary assumption of any
other idea for which direct objective evi-
dence is lacking. When a consideration
of multiple hypotheses is appropriate to
a problem, science permits the postula-

170

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

tion of any idea not logically absurd or
directly refutable by available evidence,
but it can not permit either bias or com-
mitment a priori. Science makes a spe-
cial point of discounting any judgment
which may be influenced by psychologi-
cal factors of training and conditioning,
or emotional factors involving wishful
or fearful thinking of any sort. After
rather careful examination scientists
seem to have come to the conclusion that
the ordinary manifestations of the
methods of dogmatic religion are incom-
patible with those of science. Third, it
seems clear from a consideration of what
science is about that it could not exist
were authority in itself to be acknowl-
edged as a source of ‘^true^’ knowledge.
In obtaining or interpreting data in any
scientific field, one of the necessary duties
of a scientist is to raise doubt regarding
the intellectual validity of giving more
than respectful consideration to any
‘^authority’’ as such, since there is
always the probability that the author-
ity,” being human, may have an axe in
the matter to grind. Voluntary and un-
coerced agreement among reasonable
competent scholars in a field, on the basis
of the objective evidence available, con-
stitutes the only ‘^authority” which sci-
ence can recognize. Appreciation of the
relativeness and tentativeness of ” truth”
or “knowledge” of ourselves and the
universe and good-humored alertness to
the human qualities of “authority” are
potent factors against the development
of a scientific “canon.” None the less a
conscious effort is also necessary on the
part of scientists to prevent the growth
of any “authority” which may impede
the freedom of science. Sincere and per-
tinent skepticism remains a fundament
of science and a scientist is duty bound
to try to apply it as vigorously to his own
data and opinions as to those of others.
This discussion of the questions asked by
the Reverend Professor O’Conor indi-
cates the absurdity of the conclusion he

draws from the gratuitous answer he
makes to them.

The Reverend Professor 0 ’Conor’s
plea for deference to “authority” in re-
ligion and science has serious implica-
tions these days. There are reciprocal
relations in science and democracy which
require freedom for operation. Prom
our discussion so far it would seem that
science could be employed much more
satisfactorily as a curb to the roving and
restless spirit of religion than an arbi-
trary “authority.” The function of a
church seems to be chiefly to exercise
“authority” in religion. Historically it
has been demonstrated that science can
flourish only when it is independent of
any such “authority.” There is a pecu-
liar danger now that “authority” may
sweep democracy from the earth. It is
the duty of scientists to remain conscious
of this danger, and thus to resist to the
utmost any attempt to foster respect in
science for any arbitrary “authority”
as such.

Proof op the Existence op God

Having set the stage by leading ques-
tions, and by a definition of religion
which states his conclusions, the Rever-
end Professor O’Conor undertakes “a
proof of the existence of God.” He be-
gins this by stating categorically, “The
position taken here is one which is en-
tirely unassailable on anthropological
grounds. ’ ’ Such a statement may be his
opinion, but I think he will be fair
enough to admit that other opinions are
not only possible but probable. Since
the whole of the Reverend Professor
0 ’Conor’s position is dependent upon
“the proof” which he says he is going to
furnish, one may be justified in express-
ing surprise that “the proof” is difficult
to find. The “proof” offered consists
chiefly of begging the question and vague
analogy. Granting the Reverend Pro-
fessor 0 ’Conor’s assumption of the ob-
jective existence of God, the rest of his

EELIGIO SCIENTIAE

171

position follows logically and along the
lines established by dogmatic religions
everywhere. Its novelty consists only in
its relation to current physical ideas.

But why grant his assumption T Why
not acknowledge it for what it is, namely
a postulate of great interest historically,
and of great power traditionally. The
pragmatic observation that the logical
edifice erected upon it has worked and
continues to work, is no proof of its cor-
rectness or that it corresponds with real-
ity through any necessity scientific,
logical or otherwise. It remains an inter-
esting philosophical problem to guess
whether or not a logical system erected
upon the contradictory opposite of this
assumption would not work as well.

When a problem is offered to science,
on which it is diflBcult to obtain direct
objective and measurable data, it is often
approached by proposing multiple hy-
potheses. These possible explanations
are then examined os carefully as can be
with reference to all available evidence
for or against them. The one having the
greatest probability of coordination with
acceptable ‘‘reality’’ is tentatively se-
lected as a working basis for further
studies. This does not preclude, of
course, further investigation of such
hypotheses as may have been rejected.

Many hypotheses have been proposed
regarding God. Those that postulate
existence of a supreme being usually re-
solve themselves in discussion to matters
of definition. Passing by such philo-
sophically subtle postulates as Hegel’s
universal reason^ or Paulsen’s universal
will, we may illustrate our difficulty by
reference to such relative opposites as arc
represented by common idealistic and
materialistic notions of God. The tradi-
tional hypothesis, in which the majority
of people seem to believe, is that God is
an ideal and universally dispersed entity
of omniscience and omnipotence. Bather
far removed from this definition is the

more sophisticated idea that God is the
sum total of the capabilities of some
ninety-two elements, their possible com-
binations and permutations and the
forces that are associated with them«
While the Reverend Professor O’Conor
might agree to either of these definitions,
he would probably insist that man has no
share in developing either. On the con-
trary he would probably insist that
“God” on either definition reveals Him-
self to man, in the former case through
the visions of religious leaders and in the
latter through the search of scientists.

There remains another sort of hypoth-
esis. This involves the notion that man
and the universe are made of the same
stuff, and that what people have been
calling God is as much themselves as not
themselves. This implies that the ancient
dualism of “mind and matter,” or of
“self and non-self,” is a postulate of
faith and has no correspondence with
reality. From this position the question
of the objective existence or non-exis-
tence of God becomes irrelevant and im-
material. Perhaps this is the implica-
tion of Kant’s famous antimonies. In
the cMculns of science, reality is as asym-
ptotic to the idea of a first and unpro-
duced cause as it is to the idea of infmity.
This statement is one which expresses the
matter iu strict scientific terms. While
some of these terms are incomprehen-
sible literally, like infinity, they are use-
ful working symbols — ^but not “facts.”
In tliis sense, perhaps. Dr. J. E. Wishart*

5 Hibbert Jour., 38: 447, July, 1940. Dr.
Wishart, a distinguished theologian, in kindly
reviewing the manuscript of my essay, roundly
condonms my assumptions and conclusions and
gcmtly expresses a fitting pity for me and mine.
More seriously he doubts that there can bo relig-
ion without God, and thus feels that my working
definition of religion is unacceptable. The Bight
Boverond Edward Lamb Parsons, Bishop of
California, also was generous as ever to be in-
terested in my manuscript, and he has somewhat
the some opinion as Dr. Wishart. Both feel that
attempted coercion by arbitrary authority may

172

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

proposes that we pra^atically use the
idea of a first cause, incomprehensible
though it may be, because it explains the
situation better than any other hypoth-
esis on the problem.

Concluding Notes

It is natural for the Reverend Profes-
sor O'Conor, being a physicist and seis-
mologist, to develop his position from the
standpoint of physics and mathematics.
But in requesting consideration for a
scientific approach to religion he can not
neglect other fields of scientific endeavor,
particularly biology, since man is so
closely and clearly related to other mam-
mals, albeit more remotely to other living
things. One may wonder whether there
was deliberate omission of any considera-
tion of the possible bearing on religion,
faith or belief, of current contributions
in physiology, psychology and psychia-
try. To one familiar with recent ad-
vances of knowledge in these fields, the
anthropomorphic features of religion are
not accidental. If the explanations of
man’s behavior in relation to his environ-
ment as offered by scientists in these
fields, are considered to be scientifically
valid, then the premises and position
postulated by the Reverend Professor
O’Conor and by conventional religious
dogmas of all sorts, become dubious
indeed.

Since the Reverend Professor 0 ’Conor
refers to miracles, we might pay our re-
spects to them here in passing. Without
even raising the question of the degree
of probable accuracy of the canonical ac-

be as dangerous in religion as in science. Father
0 ’Conor graciously acknowledged receipt of the
manuscript, and commented generally on it, but
has not yet had time to dissect it in detaiL The
italicized statement may be made more general
as follows: The reality of any moment is as
aeymptotio to a firet and unproduoed oawte or to
a final and end remit as it in to infinity in any
direction of space or in time either past or
future*

counts, one may apply our knowledge of
psychological and psychiatrical processes
to the miracles as reported, and find that
they are capable of receiving full and
adequate natural explanations. Since
my statement is a contradictory opposite
of the Reverend Professor ©’Conor’s,
one’s judgment in the matter depends
on estimating the degree of probability
of correctness of correlation; but with
what standard? An attempt has been
made to define the standards of science
and religion. Which do you choose?
For a scientific approach to religion, one
would expect that scientific standards
would be applied to religious claims.

We order our lives on the basis of what
we believe. The source and character of
our beliefs appear thus to have great
importance. If our faith or religion
consists of expressions of fond hopes,
pathetic desires and anxious wishes, in-
spired by greed, jealousy and fear,
nothing very satisfactory for ourselves
or society is likely to result. On the other
hand if our faith or religion is based, not
upon what we may want to believe, but
upon what is possible for us to believe in
view of the limitations imposed on us by
our knowledge of ourselves and our en-
vironment, it would seem that a little
more reasonable and individually re-
sponsible ethic might be derived. This
is Warner Fite’s ‘‘Individualism,” New
York, 1911, in which he points out that
the interests of conscious individuals are
harmonious. It is the point of Dewey’s
suggestion of harmonizing desire with
knowledge or experience, and of what
Walter Lippmann thinks was meant by
Confucius, Jesus and Buddha.

Professors E. Q. Conklin and C. J.
Herrick have come independently to this
conclusion from scientific considerations
relating to biology.® With them Pro-
fessor S. J. Holmes^ and Dr. George Sar-

^ScncNTiFio Monthly, 49 : 99-110, 996-^03.

f Science, 90 : 117-123.

SCIENCE AND TRUE RELIGION

173

ton* also independently agree, that, to
put it simply, the probability of survival
of human relationships increases with the
degree of mutual adjustment, in the rela-
tionship, toward mutual satisfaction.

Although stated in the form of a scien-
tific generality, the ethical significance of
this principle appears in relation to the
common urge for survival and satisfac-
tion. Consciousness of the operation of
this principle suggests the wisdom of
such altruistic, considerate and magnani-
mous conduct as is intuitively considered
‘‘good*’ in all ethical systems. The social
customs and conventions now with us
have so far exhibited survival value in
the Darwinian sense. We may apply
evolutionary principles to them, and at-
tempt the formulation of a modus oper-
andi. Such a formulation constitutes
the statement offered. Whether or not

8 * * Tho History of Science and New Human-
ism,^* Harvard, 1937.

it may give a biological and scimtific
basis for a pragmatic ethic remains to be
estimated.

A scientific approach to religion hn-"
plies the problem of whether or not sci-
ence can form a basis for religion. The
answer is “yes'* in the light of the defini-
tions proposed by me, but not on the basis
of those proposed by the Reverend Pro-
fessor O'Conor. This conclusion, not
being satisfying to him, will probably be
rejected by him, for man remains the
measure of all things.

To one impatient with the problem of
philosophy in coordinating knowledge
and desire, this discussion may appear to
be circular. Indeed, unless the Reverend
Professor O’Conor and folks like me can
agree on definitions of religion and sci-
ence, we may always find ourselves in the
position Fitzgerald ascribed to Omar of
coming out the same door wherein we
went.

SCIENCE AND TRUE RELIGION

A REPLY TO DR. C. D. LEAKE

By The Reverend JOHN S. O'CONOR, S.J.
PBOraSSOB or physios, okokoktowm vnivbbsitt

At the risk of ensnaring further un-
wary scientists and lususpecting laymen
I am taking this opportunity to point out
in some detail the perhaps unconscious
naivete of Dr. Leake’s assumption that
his criticism of my article “A Scientific
Approach to Religion” constitutes a
“logical answer” to the same.

His reply is, however, most appropri-
ate at least in one respect; for it serves
as a perfect example of that procedure
to which I specifically called attention:
namely, that of holding up to ridicule
some synthetic religion, made to order
for the purpose from dements which
constitute but a catalogue of inconsis-
tencies and excesses, and by this means
attempting to discredit true religion.

which has no more to do with this cari-
cature than astrology and numerology
have to do with true science.

Dr. Leake begins by taking exception
to my definition of religion and substi-
tutes one of his own making which is:
“A faith or belief one has with respect
to the relation between one’s self and
one’s environment.”

I have consulted Sir James Murray’s
ten-volume New English Dictionary, in-
cluding the 1933 supplement, and find
neither philological nor historical war-
rant for such a definition. Neither
Webster’s New International nor Funk
and Wagnalls’ New Standard diction-
aries gives a definition which can be
considered the approximate equivalent

174

THE SOIBNTIFIO MONTHLY

of it. Thtis the truth of the statement
that “according to the dictionaries, cur-
rent usage permits this broader defini-
tion” is yet to be established.

The definition which I submitted is
solidly established, both historically and
philologically, and is the one generally
agreed to — conventional, to use Dr.
Leake’s own characterization.

To take such a definition, and then
show by a reasoned proof that the essen-
tial element in it (A Supreme Being)
has objective existence, or to make up a
definition for the occasion, which on
analysis displays no criterion for differ-
entiating between the thing defined and
the multitude of other reactions to envi-
ronment which all of us know are not
religion, which of these two procedures
is the more scientific and objective;
which, I ask, is the more arbitrary and
postulational f When Dr. Leake coun-
ters with the statement that because
religion historically usually includes the
recognition of a Supreme Being — ^this is
no reason why it always must — he is
arbitrarily demanding a change in the
significance of words. Is it not more in
the spirit of science to discuss what is
and what has been rather than what
might bef

Dr. Leake cites my neglect to define
science, yet later on disagrees with what
he calls my definition of the scientific
method. He claims that science is more
concerned with the establishment of facts
than with the attempt 'to fit them into a
system or theory. 1 question that dis-
tinction. Albert Einstein is quoted as
defining science as “the coordination of
our experiences by bringing them into a
logical system.” Perhaps he has been
misquoted, perhaps his definition is not
correct, but I doubt very much that Dr.
Einstein will cease working on a unitary
field theory for the facts of gravitation
and electromagnetism when he becomes
aware that this is not an essential aspect
of science. I also doubt that the succes-

sors of Darwin will all repudiate their
work as unscientific because they have
been attempting to fit the facts of paleon-
tology into the theory of evolution.

An adequate discussion of Dr. Leake’s
section entitled “Aim, Spirit and
Method of Science and Beligion” is
precluded by the scientific nature of the
journal in which this discussion appears,
for the entire sequence is made up of
paragraphs which are introduced by
such subjective indicators as “we may
assume,” “I believe,” “it seems,” which
are used sixteen times in presenting what
purport to be acceptable views on re-
ligion, while the attacks on my approach
are shot through with a dogmatic posi-
tivism which can best be met by a
counter-demand for proof.

Near Ike end of the section just re-
ferred to, as well as in subsequent parts
of his article. Dr. Leake claima that
my “approach” exemplifies the usual
method of religion, which is to “assume
Qod and immortality and then r^te
everything else in experience to these
assumptions.” Again where an answer
is attempted to my so-called “leading
questions” the following is found: “I
think it is dear . . . that dogmatic re-
ligion is incompatible with the scientific
method as long as dogmatic religion
requires the postulation of a first and
unproduced cause of the universe or of
the necessary assumption of any other
idea for which direct objective evidence
is lacking.”

First, let me make it dear that im-
mortality was not even mentioned in my
entire artide. Secondly, let me empha-
size that it is a proof of Gk)d’s existence
and not a posttMe that was the object
of my investigstitm, not, it is obvious,
with the purpose of making an ex-
haustive study of the same, but merdy
to eaU to the attention ot readers of Tbs
S onmno McunmiT the similarity be-
tween the methods of the so-oalled
“time-wom”

SCIENCE AND TRUE RELIGION

175

modem science. In confirmation of this
1 again call the reader’s attention to the
reference given near the end of page 369
in my article. This book (Brosnan’s
“Qod and Reason”) is a standard text
on natural theology in which the proof
under discussion is fully developed.

To say that the “proof consists chiefly
of begging the question and of vague
analogy” is merely to confirm the sus-
picion that my critic has never taken the
trouble to look up the reference in ques-
tion. If the Doctor had disagreed with
the proof referred to and pointed out its
alleged fallacies, a basis for further dis-
cussion might be had, but to call a proof
a postulate seems inexplicable even in
the case of one for whom the realm of
philosophy is but a “wilderness.”

In the discussion on “Authority”
much is made of the objectivity of
science as indicated by the exclusion of
“wishful or fearful thinking” and of the
refusal to admit “either bias or commit-
ment a priori.”

As a scientist I concur completely on
these points, but should like to call at-
tention to the third work listed in Dr.
Leake’s introduction as an “outstanding
source, ” «is., A. D. White’s “History of
the War of Science with Theology in
Christendom.” It is amusing to listen
to talk of “discounting judgments which
may be influenced by psychological . . .
or emotional factors ...” when the
author of a book, which is filled with such
violent diatribes that it can not be con-
sidered by any impartial critic except as
a piece of rank bigotry, is held up as an
outstanding authority. The mhibitions,
attributed by Dr. Leake to most of his
colleagues, which prevent scientists
from writing on topics they fear will
^ve offense to those interest^ in relig-
ion, would undoubtedly become over-
whelming shot^d they consult this refer-
ence. But nd scholar will be tempted
to aoeqpt the writings of A. D. ’V^te
as aouroit inaterial.

My idea for deference to “authority”

is characteiised as one which “has seri-
ous implications these days.” It is
hardly necessary to point out that the
word “authority” should have bemi*
understood as meaning eredibiUty,
namely, that which gives weight to one’s
testimony, t.e., knowledge and honesty.
The politico-social sense of the word au-
thority is quite irrelevant here. To
invoke a dubious historical argument
against the authority of the Church,
based on an ambiguity in terminology,
and to reject the historical argument in
relation to the notion of Qod in rel^don
does not seem to be consistent.

I am sure that Dr. Leake would re-
sent, as would any other scientist, were
one to claim that it is “science” which
is devastating the earth and sweeping
democracy from its surface. Yet all will
have to agree that science and its prin-
ciples are helpless to prevent the devas-
tation wrought by those who admit no
authority (in the sense taken by Dr.
Leake) higW than their own.

There is one statement of Dr. Leake’s
with which I am at least in partial ac-
cord. He says: “Granting Father
0 ’Conor’s assumption of the objective
existence of God, the rest of his position
follows logically. ...”

A change of the word assumption to
proof would bring apparent agreement
on one point.

But even if the word proof were sub-
stituted the difficulty would merely be
pulled further back and the question
could legitimatdy be asked: Are there
not postulates in the proof t

To get at the root difference betwebn
Dr. Leake’s position and mine we must
also ask: Is any sdentifle conclusion
which is beyond the direct evidence of
the senses susceptible to “proof”! My
answer is yes. There are certain onalyti-
oal propositions (such as the principle
of contradiction and of sufficient reason)
whitdi are objeetivdy and immediatdy
evident

These are not mere postulates but

176

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

necessary laws of thought which flow
from the laws of being and without
which there could be no knowledge.
These principles when properly em-
ployed in conjunction with sense data
lead to certain necessary conclusions re-
garding the reality of the external world
and its origin. Thus if one admits ob-
jective evidence and the supremacy of
reason to the extent of accepting conclu-
sions deduced by it, although these may
go beyond immediate sense data, then
one must also admit the absolute validity
of the cosmological proof for the exis-
tence of God.

If one denies these principles of meta-
physics and poses as admitting only
knowledge derived directly from sense
data, then one is forced to admit that
there is no difference between scientific
knowledge and the lowest form of animal
reaction to sense stimuli. This position
of pure sensism, or of positivism, is it-
self a dogma which has never been
rationally established and is rooted in a
prejudice which refuses to accept the
implications of reasoning.

To preclude the necessity of maintain-
ing an entirely absurd position the laws
of thought must at least be assumed as
a postulate system— otherwise our sense
data could not even be communicated
rationally, much less discussed or corre-
lated scientifically.

While not agreeing with or admitting
a system of philosophy which claims that
all fundamental principles are but postu-
lates, we do maintain fliat, as far as this
controversy is concerned, any postulate
system which admits the possibility of
scientific knowledge, as it is commonly
understood to-day, is also sufficient to
establish the existence of God on the
same scientific basis. Science to-day is
concerned with, reasotus about and con-
cludes to propositions which are cer-
tainly beyond the direct range of sense
data. If this is admitted, the arguments
for the existence of God d fortiori can

not be thrown out unless one is willing
to exclude all such concepts as electron,
proton, neutron, relativity, quantum
theory, and the like.

Let it be clearly understood that the
position presented above is not put for-
ward as the alpha and omega of religious
systes^. It can be considered, however,
as the* rational basis of natural religion
and serves as a preamble to supernatural
faith, which is a gift of God, reasonable
in itself but not obtained by reason
alone.

Regarding the bearing on religion of
current contributions in physiology, psy-
chology (experimental) and psychiatry,
my reply is that the omission of such
considerations by me was indeed delib-
erate, not through any fear of conse-
quences to true religion (for truth is one
and can not contradict itself), but on the
principle that it is scarcely profitable to
discuss such disciplines unless one’s
knowledge approaches that of the pro-
fessional both in depth and interest.
Any reply may well be deferred until
something more than the hypothetical
proposition advanced by Dr. Leake is
forthcoming.

The categorical denial of my remarks
on miracles has in no way advanced mat-
ters on this point. Before making any
choice, the prospective student of mira-
cles must become acquainted with the
literature. I am therefore appending a
few references which may serve as an
easy introduction to the subject and will
have to be examined and evaluated be-
fore there is any serious attempt to posit
a judgment.

To close on a note of unity let me ex-
press entire accord with the idea that
neither my own five-page article, nor
Dr. Leake’s one of more than twice that
length, can be expected to do more than
stimulate further interest in a subject
that has been vital to men of all times.

If this has been accomplished we can
relinquish the discussion with sentiments

SCIENCE AND TRUE RELIGION

177

akin to those of St. Augustine, and quote
from his “City of God,’’ as appositely
we hope, as Dr. Compton did last Janu-
ary from his “Commentary on Genesis.’’

If we should bind ourselves to give answer to
every contradiction that the opposing front of-
fers (how falsely, they care not, as long as the
denial is made), you see what trouble it would
be, how endless and how fruitless. Therefore
. , . I would not have you read this volume
thinking I am bound to answer whatsoever you
or others shall hear objected against it, lest you
become like the women of whom the Apostle
speaketh, that they were '^always learning but
never able to come to the knowledge of the
truth. ’ ’

Summary or the Cosmological
Argument

Proposition to he proved:

There exists an unproducod first cause of all
things existing in the world.

Proof:

There exist in the visible world produced
beings.

But the existence of even one produced being
necessarily implies the existence of an unpro*
duced first cause.

Therefore siidi a cause exists.

The major proposition of the proof is evident
from internal and external evidence.

The minor proposition may be proved as fol-
lows:

The cause of the produced being in question is
either unproduced or produced.

If unproduoed our conclusion stands.

If produced the question recurs: Whence its
producer t

The answer must either finally stop at a first
unproduced cause and again our conclusion
stands, or, —

We most admit an infinite series of succes-
sively produced causes either dependent on an
unproduoed cause, or without such a cause. If
the series depends for its existence on an unpro-
duoed cause our conclusion again stands.

If however it is asserted that such a series
can exist without an unproduoed cause, to finally
^establish our conclusion we must prove this as-
sertion false*

In other words we must prove that —

An infinite series of successively produced
causes, without an unproduced cause of it, is
etbsolutely impossible.

It is impossible if nowhere can be found an

adequately suffloient reason for the existence of
any one msmher of it. But nowhere in it can
such a reason be found.

It can not be found in the being itself, which
we shall call A, for A, a produced being, could
then never have existed, for a being can not pro-
duce itself, before it itself exists.

Nor can it be found in any prior cause. For
if the adequately suffloient reason for A^b ex-
istence could bo found in any one such cause or
group of causes then aU causes in the series
prior to this group could be considered as non-
existing as far as their requirement for A ’s ex-
istence is concerned.

But if any cause in the series is considered as
non-existing then all subsequent causes in the
series must be considered as non-existing and
hence A as non-existing.

Hence the hypothesis, that any cause in the
series can give an adequately sufficient reason
for A’s existence, results in the absurd conclu-
sion that A con not be existing.

Beferengxs

GOD, HIS EXISTENCE AND NATURE

Brosnan, Wm. J., ‘^God and Beason” (Ford-
ham University Press, New York).

Brosnan, Wm. J., **God Infinite and Beason’^
(America Press, New York).

Garrigou-Lagrange, B., ''God, His Existence
and Nature,*’ translated by B. Bose (Herder
Book Co., St. Louis, Mo.)

Dictionnaire Apologetique de la foi Oa-
tholique, Vol. I, coL 941->1088 (Paris, 4th Ed.)*

Dictionnaire do Theologie Oatholique, Vol.
IV, col. 756-1300 (Paris).

Joyce, G. H., "Principles of Natural Theol-
ogy" (Longmans, Green, New York).

Bickaby, J., "Studies on God and His Orea-
tures" (Longmans, Green, New York).

SCIENCX AND RELIGION

Donat, J.,"The Freedom of Science" (Jo-
seph F. Wagner, New York).

MIRACLES

Betrin, G., "Lourdes” (Bensiger Bros.,
New York).

de Tonguedoc, Joseph, "Introduction a
L ’Etude du Merveilleux et du Miracle” (Beau-
chesne, Paris).

LeBec, E., "Medical proof of the Miracu-
lous” (Harding and Moore, London).

0 ’Gorman, P. W., "The most Outstanding
Medical Miracle of the Age,” The CathoUc Med^
ioal Guardian, Vol. El, No. 8, p, 121. July,
1933 (Middlesex, England).

BOOKS ON

’ ’\ ' i’'**'*'

‘ '’■' .V ' " 7 '

THB GV8SBNT WHAXJB Ott.

. * : INDUSTRY*

** ' . . '

' TRb sim of tbit book, as stated 117 Uio
aiidior, is ‘*to anaisrse the economie
'^^s^lem jnnoiindbag one of the irorld's
important raw materials ot the present
time.** Whaling, which eontribated so
mneh to the wealth of Dutch, Hanseatic,
British and Ammiean dtisens, is traced
from its beginnings, the eauses of its
dedhie are reridew^, and tiie bsek>
ground for its itwrrai under Norwegian
kwdfi^P during the twentieth eentury
is dslmribed.

The book eommenoes with a disoussion
of the importance of whale oil^hs a com-
moditY in world trade, where it consti*
tut^ about 9.4 per cent of the total
volume of foreign traiBe in fats. Gter*
mae^, for instance, in 1935 obtained 64
per cent «t her margarine and lard com*
pounds from whale oil. Whale oil con*
tributed 41 per omit of the margarine,
28 "pee cent of the lard compound and
16 per cent of the soap manufactured in
(3reat Britain in 1987.

Althouc^ whale oil is the chief 'prod*
uct of the modem whaling industrY, the
eommeridal utilisation of a uhale ea r caas
yirids also whalebone, ambergris, meat,
ooncentrated protein foodstuffs for do-
mesticated animals, fertiliser, hormones,
leather and glue. Hence **the value of
whales as a natural resource depends
essentially on the 'dmtland for. eemin
raw materials to be derived from it, on
man’s technical abitity to utilise it, and
on his intelligmiee in fefraining. from
depleting it**

Whaling is now prosecuted largely <m
the high srin be3^>^ the jnrisdiotfam of
sovereign states. It is of eqmoiid hiqK^
tanee to countries which la^ natoral jm*
but have an abundance (ff labw

. * IfM* OB, ns SoMiMiie nsolaiii. BySSSl
annat IDaitieMU xiv f SSI an.
gSBii^ 10CO. TCoil Bwierdi fretttia^ iNsa*

vwT^lllivJ JntWiUk

factory chi^ 1i^balf^ht«her hoa^.':4iil.
traaqmrt veasebt ai^ to ittiliie
mopcially the prodttcts obtained, (kmii-
qnently, intense intiimalhmal ciMapc^
tion luis developed into a struin^
tween the Britifh'-Niwtiiegian Inierea^
which view uhaiing as a means W tbe
employment of manpower and c^tal
and the Qerman^apanese oonmadiss
whidii are fostered Iqr thrir govemmesits
to obtain fats and raw materials rither
for dmuestie consumption or tm
version into necessary forrign esnbanga.:

Despite efforts at international rqpi*
lation sponsored by the Iieague (ff Na-
tions in 1931 and by the Norwegian and
British Governments in 1937 and 1988,
it has become inereasinly apparent that
the high standard of efSciencar aitidned
by factory ships md vdiahs-eatefahBg
equipment threatens the continuatkm uf
the industry. One obvious shorteoming
of tiiese agreements was the rdnetanee
of most of the countries to impoal a
definite limitation of oil prodwtiem by
firing marimum quotas for tiieir owh
wha^ig industry. In the mternaitiainal
exploitatim of this reaouroe the com-
peting nations are oodeavoriiig to obtain
a marimum ahare in the eatrirand at the
same time are voioing their fear of as>-
eesaiye slaughter of eriating jriotfim of^
whales.

Tha mitirar believea that tritalm tijil
be amply utiBaed ae 1 oe« as eumpeting
nridmia find whalittg a nmanfratiwi
tmteriaisa aad peritapa even longer hgr
compaitiei anbaicBaed bf embdrica vriw
a ^defiriamey . in . fiatt and ’ rfriNgpli'; ''dh-:
'ohanfe. ^ 'Iiiibdnotian'nf;'if^^
Mcb TBit h A0t$Mioi9d
azalea'

Wlialei "ta . sithrir. 'Ihp|i of . .whdlda'ii^lllii

'''Ciiljbffihig

■ 1 +

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

179

Since the price of whale oil is mainly
determined by prices of competitive fats
and since the costs of whaling increase
with the decline in the average size of
whales caught, these considerations con-
trol the remunerative operation of fac-
tory ships equipped with costly process-
ing machinery and of the whale-catcher
boats that do the killing. New uses of
whale oil as food and industrial material
and improvement in (pmlity by prompt
processing of whales caught has brought
about an expanded and diversified de-
mand for this fat. Tlie author eluci-
dates the highly complex play of fac-
tors aflPecting the prices of oil and fats
and concludes that whale oil has become
the base of the price structure of fats.

The discussion of the transport, stor-
age and marketing of whale oil is fol-
lowed by a resume of the influence of
taritf duties, excise taxes and other mea-
sures devised to prot(*cl domestic pro-
ducers of competitive fats on the mar-
keting of this commodity. The appen-
dix is designed primarily as a source
for selected statistical data.

In this well-documented and carefully
prepared book, a qualified, impartial ob-
server makes a notable contribution
toward a better understanding of the
mechanics of the whaling industry.

Remington Kellogg

FROM BACTERIA TO ORCHIDS^

Professor Hylander has written a
book such as every botanist has wished
he could write but which none of us has
been able to produce. It is a big book,
over 700 pages, x 9J inches, crowded
full of remarkable photographs and
meaty text in fine print.

This is probably the most comprehen-
sive book on plants tliat has yet been
written for the general reader.

Mr. Hylander classifies and discusses
virtually every common type of plant
now extant in this country — ^native and

1 The World of Plant Life. By 0. J. Hy-
lander. Illustrated, xxli + 722 pp. $7.50. Mac-
millan Company.

naturalized; he tells of their distribu-
tion, their habits, their uses and their
various unique and specialized struc-
tures which enable them to exist in
specific environments.

Hen* is a world of detailed and ex-
citing information on plants — all the
way from bacteria to orchids. The au-
thor writes of the seaweeds and shy
organisms that grow on the ocean floor;
the plants that form a felty mass on
the sides of cliffs; the vegetation that
stands primly erect in a quiet marsh or
lies asprawl on the stagnant surface;
the familiar flowers and trees of our
American fields,' forests and deserts.
Here one can learn about plants that
kill insects for food; f)lants that live in
cooiierative colonies, dividing their la-
bors with evident success; and scores of
others. So inclusive is this book that it
wdll be appreciat(‘d by amateurs, stu-
dents and experienced botanists alike.

In gathering his material, Mr. Hy-
lander, who is assistant professor of
botany at Colgate Tlniversity, traveled
twice from Maine to California by car
and trailer; he has included here over
400 of his plant i)hotographs and line
drawings. The book is as fascinating
as the world of plants which it describes.

Probably the most serious fault in the
book is that it is too big and the print
too small. The type would not have
been too small if the page had been
broken into two columns, but, set as it
is in long lines stretching across the wide
page, it soon puts the reader’s eyes
aswiin and he lays it down with a sigh
only to be intrigued to pick it up again
because of its interest. This defect is
mitigated by the fact that the book will
be used more for reference than for con-
tinuous reading.

In a book so large one could readily
pick up errors and find many details to
criticize. The very numerous line draw-
ings are nowhere near as skilfully done
as the photographs and often leave off
the details a botanist would wish to see
(and which could have been added with

180

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

just a little more effort). Too many of
the halftones have lost the ‘‘snap*’ evi-
dentl}' possessed by the original photo-
graphs and many of them are smutted
against the next page by careless print-
ing. There are some expressions that
are rather forced in an effort to popu-
larize. like “warfare” among planta
which refers chiefly not to competition
in their struggle for existence but to
parasitism.

But one is ready to forgive the short-
comings of the book for the service it
does him. It is to be hoped that a second
edition will soon be required and give
the author opportunity to make all de-
sired improvements.

Robert P. Orioos

TWO QUAKER BOTANISTS, FATHER

AND SON1

This, the second volume of a series,
“Pennsylvania Lives,” gives a very
brief account of the lives of two Quakers
who had a profound influence on the
colonies and became valued friends of
their European correspondents. John,
the father, with a meager school educa-
tion became so deeply interested, first
in plants and later in many fields of
science, that he succeeded in training
himself to become a valuable contributor
to scientific knowledge. He traveled
thousands of miles in the eastern United
States from Canada to Florida in his
collections of plants andnseeds, many of
which he sent to European botanists, to
whom they were unknown. His descrip-*'
tions of plants, weather, animals and
soils were both accurate and thorough.

John Bertram brought to his farm
near Philadelphia parts of his plant col-
lections which with his European ex-
changes became the first American bo-
tanical garden. In this garden he be-
came one of the first to understand sex
in plants and to cross-pollinate them.

William Bertram, the son, began his

^John and William Bariram* By Ernest
Earnest. Illustrated, xvi 4 187 pp. $2.00.
1040. University of Pennsylvania Press.

travels with his father at the age of
fourteen, on a trip to the Gatskill Moun-
tains. William learned to love nature
and travel, but he appears to have been
so interested in philosophy that his col-
lections and exchanges with his corre-
spondents suffered. He inherited his
father’s power of keen observation and
his descriptions were famous for their
vividness. Many of them appear to have
been the bases for later descriptions by
famous authors. The “Travels,” a mas-
terpiece, was published in many parts of
the world.

Since these men set so high a standard
for accomplishment as to draw the eyes
of the world toward Philadelphia, it is
to be regretted that so few quotations
could be included in this small volume
and that the number of copies of the
edition is limited to 1,000. It would
seem that the reading of this volume
might well be a stimulus to many others
to overcome difficulties and make contri-
butions to their chosen fields.

L. Edwin Yocum

A PRIMER OF ANTHROPOLOGY^

A SUCCINCT popular treatise on man’s
origin and on early man, by “formerly
senior member, scientific staff, Anthro-
pological Department, Welcome Mu-
seum,” London. Deals with The Begin-
ning of Things ; The Ancestors of Man ;
The Great Ice Age; Men of the Ice Age;
The End of the Ice Age ; The Men
Came after the Ice Age; The End of
the Old Stone Age; The Middle Stone
Age, and The New Stone Age.

A very readable production that may,
in another edition, make a good primer
on the subject it deals with ; but before
that it will need considerable mending
in various details. Thus the meteorites
(p. 7) are hardly “fragments of metal
which probably made the original body
of the sun” ; the skulls of all the anthro-^
poid apes are not all ‘^much rounder’^

1 Mankind in the Making, By M. 0. Borer.
Itiastrated. 152 pp. $1.60, 1289. Prod*

Wame and Company.

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

181

than that of the Pithecanthropus; it is
not true (p. 41) that ‘‘no other relic of
any other member’* of the Pithecan-
thropus family has ever been found ; the
“miprrations” of early man from Africa
or Asia to Europe, the separateness,
chronolof?y and extinction of the Nean-
derthal man, and the coming in from
some unknown somewhere of the full-
fledged Homo sapiens, are all outlived
assumptions. And there are inaccura-
cies about the Eskimo and in other
matters.

Yet the treatise can not be condemne<i
and may in a future edition be made
quite useful. There is a great man in
England, Sir Arthur Keith, who for the
sake of soundness would probably be
glad to assist in setting things straight.

A. II.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE HUMAN

EMBRYO^

It is a pleasure to welcome the fourth
edition of Arey’s “Developmental Anat-
omy.” To those who have used this vol-
ume on human embryology it needs no
introduction. It is still the outstanding
text-book in its field.

Although the book is written pri-
marily for the use of serious students,
it should not be overlooked as an inter-
esting source book by those who at one
time or another become interested in
the phenomena of prenatal development.
No one can pass by the miracle of re-
production without hesitating to con-
sider the underlying organization and
motivation that produces a complicated
functional organism from the union of
a sperm with an egg. There is a real
fascination in the history of develop-
ment through segmentation, formation
of layers of cells and the eventual fold-
ings and growth processes that produce
the various organs of the foetus.

There are a great many readers who,
having perused a lighter, more popular

i Developmental Anatomy, By L. B. Arey,
lUttstrated. xix + ei2pp. $6.75, 1940, W. B.
Saundort Oompany,

book on human embryology, will want
to learn in greater detail or with closer
accuracy what is happening as preg-
nancy proceeds and the baby develops.
This volume will answer those questions
in an authoritative reliable fashion as
it does for the medical students into
whose hands this book will find its way.
It is well illustrated, carefully written
and an entirely worthy volume.

Ira B. Hansen

“LIVING WAVE FUNCTIONS”

In Dr. Gamow’s review of my book,
“The Soul of the Universe,” in the De-
cember number of Scientific Monthly
he writes that I have introduced the
notion of “Immaterial Living Wave
Functions,” and then proceeds to show
that wave functions have no physical
counterpart in the external world. I
have never in my book used the term
“wave function,” and obviously not
the nonsensical term “living wave-func-
tions.” Instead I have used the terms
fields of force, space-time structures, fre-
quency patterns and wave systems as
descriptive of direcMy observable space
variations and time fluctuations of physi-
cal characteristics. If the variations at a
particular place or places are rapid and
fluctuating they can often be described
in terms of waves or frequencies. For
instance, the fluctuating electric field
around many neurones in the brain can
be described as “wave systems,” a de-
scription which is entirely independent
of any ideas about phase waves or wave
functions. In describing the phenomena
of life we must deal with the directly
observable phenomena in space and time,
without introducing any mathematical
representation in multidimensional con-
figuration space for which we obviously
are not yet ready. Oamow’s objection
loses its force when we realize that we
are dealing with structures in space and
time *which are, at least in principle,
observable by our sense organs aided by
suitable instruments.

Gustaf Stromberg

DB. ntVINO LANOHUIB

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

DR. IRVING LANGMUIR, NEWLY ELECTED PRESIDENT OF THE AMERI-
CAN ASSOCIATION FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF SCIENCE

Irving Langmuir whs born in Brook-
lyn, New York, in 1881. Ilis early sehbol
(lays were spent in J^aris, Fra nee, and at
the Chestnut Hill Ac^adeiny, Philadel-
phia, INuinsylvania. After a course at
Pratt Institute School, he studied

at the Columbia School of Mines, <^radu-
atinp: in 1903 as a inetallurg:ical enp:ineer,
and then studied i)hysi(ml chemistry with
Nernst at C3oettin«jr(Mi, Germany. Subse-
(|uently, he taujrht chemistry at Stevens
Institute for three years. He joined the
staff of th(‘ General Ele(‘tric Iiesear(*h
Laboratory in 1909, and since then lias
been continually active as a research
.scientist. During: the past eigrht years
he has been associate director.

He has been honored by deg:rees from
many universities, including: Oxford,
Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Columbia and
Princeton. For distingruished scientific
services he has been awarded fifteen
medals and other tokens. Among these
are thfe Nobel Prize of the Swedish Acad-
emy of Science, in 1932, the John Scott
Award of Philadelphia, and the Hughes,
Perkin, Nichols, Chandler and William
Gibbs medals.

His scientific contributions are best
described in the 217 scientific papers
which he has published. Because of the
nature and number of tliose widely dis-
tributed contributions 1 can not review
them adequately here. In choosing one
line of his thoughts I might select a
purely chemical one, but I should soon
be at the end of ordinary vocabularies.
Or I might take some attractive physical,
electrical or illumination problem, but
within each of those confines I should
still feel that I had failed to picture him
properly.

Integrating his work, I see that the
scientific advances are made just at the
extreme, almost invisible ends of paths

of human interest, where part of the job
consists of laying down hard new words
as a sort of corduroy road.

As a start along one road you may
enter the realm of Langmuir’s radio tube
contributions through an article by
President Karl Compton, of the Massa-
chusetts Institute of Technology, in a
current issue of Science, But there were
years of frontier-research involved, even
th(‘re. Langmuir had to distinguish
(pmntitatively the specific and different
(deetrothermic emissions and study the
migration rate of thoria, for example, in
solid, heated tungsten, together with the
surface films of chemically reduced
thorium, before the countless types of
radio tubes ctmld be evolved. In addi-
tion, there were all sorts of studies of the
electrons as they wandered about in
vacua, influenced by different electrical
forces. When mere traces of gases were
present, entirely nevr phenomena were
presented. Such words as space
(diarge, ” ‘ * bombardment, ” * * positive

ions” and ” charged grid,” brought out
still more new names, such as pliotron,
keiiotron, thyratron, etc. Laid down at
the right time and place, they have
”made going easier” in many new terri-
tories.

While it seems to me that all his work
is strongly tied together by his simple
conceptions, it is still impossible for me
to illustrate it. If I try to explain his
contributions to ‘‘molecular films” I can
not be clear enough, though he has paved
the way in many American scientific cir-
cles by showing his fundamental mono-
layers. While these foreshadow infinite
chemical research leading into processes
of life and growth, living cell permeabil-
ity, etc., the implications of such work
may not be speculated upon here. He
lias directed his efforts so far as to deter-

184

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

mine form and structure, in partes or
whole, or many sorts of or|?anic mole-
cules. This has included the immensely
complex insulin. But 1 may confuse by
even mentioning this.

Perhaps it is better to say that, just
as Langmuir has contributed greatly to
our elementary concepts of chemical
valency and made us almost see the
various kinds of bonds which express
interatomic attractions and molecular
coherence in such simple cases as helium
and atomic hydrogen, and the “attrac-
tions'' between hydrogen and chlorine
in hydrochloric acid, so also in working
with simple soap films he has opened up
new conceptions of existing matter, such
as two-dimensioned solids, liquids and
even gases, together with their inter-
reactions. And this he has done by
simple means but with quantitative re-
sults.

Langmuir seems to love the simple —
the simple, inquisitive youth, the simple,
direct question and answer. His well-
trained, questioning attitude makes him
a fine, forward-seeing teacher of old and
young. His physical energy and mental
virility are very unusual. By his efforts
he makes the subject of his interest im-
portant, Repeatedly investigating an
apparently insignificant scientific point,
he makes it most fundamentally signifi-
cant. At the same time, as the resulting
chips fly, he watches the direction of pre-
vailing winds of utility or service.

Take, for example, that highly use/ul
discovery, the gas-Blled incandescent
lamp. We see it every night, but how

many understand itf How can the same
size of glass bulb, with the same element,
tungsten, have three times as much light-
efflciency when, in place of a vacuum, it
is filled with gas? Gas is obviously a
greater heat dissipater than the vacuum,
and the vacuum offers no obstruction to
the light-emission of the filament. We
had apparently almost exhausted all
practical possibilities of making better
vacua in our search for lamp improve-
ments, but Langmuir first further im-
proA^ed even the methods. Then he
carefully studied every imaginable thing
left. What was happening to, with,
through, by and/or among the adherent
traces of persistent gas-residues? He
experimented. After years of this, he
learned the remarkabl^^ different effects
of water vapor, nitrogen, oxygen and
hydrogen where these elements were
almost nonexistent. Space limits ex-
planation here, but he learned about
atomic or dissociated hydrogen, decom-
posed water, blackened and browned
bulbs, rate of simple evaporation of the
filament, and that each was dependent
upon the others. Then he visualized the
new advantage to be gained by coiling
tungsten filaments in certain sized
helices (instead of iising simple “hair-
pins") and operating them in definite
pressures of nonreacting gases. And so
the new and better lamp.

The long lines of reasoning by simple,
proved paths, but just beyond the former
terminals, are to be seen in all his scien-
tific work.

WHiUs R. Whitney

NOTABLE SCIENTIFIC PROGRAMS AT PHILADELPHIA

Probably no other scientific meeting
ever presented so great a variety of
notable scientific programs as that, of the
American Association for the Advance-
ment of Science at Philadelphia from
December 27, 1940, to January 2, 1941,
inclusive. In those six days 222 scientific
sessions were held before which 2,164
addresses and papers were delivered or
read.

Instead of attempting the impossible
task of referring to all the programs of
the meeting, a few will be enumerated,
each of which was a joint discussion of
some important field of science by a
number of eminent specialists. The first
on the list in the number of participants
and perhaps in the importance of the
subject was the ssrmposium on ‘‘Alco-
holism/' There were 47 contributors to

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

185

this discussion which, in six half-day
sessions and one evening session, consid-
ered the subject in (1) its physiological
and chemical aspects, (2) its clinical
aspects, (3) its neuropsychiatric fea-
tures, (4) its treatment and prevention,
(5) its social and legal problems (two
sessions) and (6) a general session pre-
sided over by Dr. Thomas Parran, sur-
geon-general of the U. S. Public Health
Service. The participants in this notable
program were leading specialists in the
problem of alcoholism from all sections
of the United States. It is expected that
this comprehensive and correlated group
of papers will be published in one vol-
ume, probably by the American Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Science.

Another program of similar scope and
completeness was the symi)osium on
‘‘Human Malaria’* in which there were

42 participants, including the foremost
specialists in the field in this country.

The malaria problem is of great impor-
tance in the southern states and the in-
sular possessions. It is especially impor-
tant at present because of the large
number of army camps that are being
established in the South in the national
defense program and because of the
large number of men who will be em-
ploye<i in constructing naval bases in the
Caribbean and West Indies regions.

Not all the large programs, however,
were on medical subjects. Three of an
entirely different character were “A
Scientific Basis for Ethics, “Science
and Value” and “The Scientist and
American Democracy.” Since all three
of these symposia are similar in that they
are concerned with the significance of
science in moral and social questions it
has been suggested that the association
publish them together in one volume.

Another distinguished program of a
quite different type was organized in

AMERICAN ASSOCIATION BOOTHS AT THE SCIENCE EXHIBITION

TWO OF THB KXOHTT OE MOEB EXHIBITS HOUSED IH CONVEKTIOK HAU., SHOWING IN THE BACK-
OEOUND A SEEIES OF FOETEAITS AND LETTEES FROM FAST FEEBIDENTg OF THB AHEEIOAN ASSOCIA-
TION. THE PIOTUEE OF THE FIRST PRBS1DBNT| W. 0. EBDFIELD, CAN BE SEEN IN THE UPPER LEFT-HAND
OORNEE, HE. gAH WOODLEY, THE ASSISTANT SECRETARY, HAS COLLECTED A SET OF THESE POR-
TRAITS AND LETTBRS--ONE EACH YEAR SINCE THE FOUNDING OF THE .ASSOCIATION 92 YEARS AGO.

186

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

celebration of the centenary of the pub-
lication of one of the most influential
books in the history of chemistry,
namely, Liebig: ’s ‘‘Org:anie Chemistry in
the Applications to Agriculture and
Physiology,” the first edition of which
appeared in 1840. The participants in
this symposium discussed, with adequate
references to the literature, the amazing
and oft(*n (|uite unexpected develop-
ments of the regions which Liebig en-
tered a century ago.

To mention a program at the opposite
extreme of human interest, the American
Philosophical Association presented a
symposium on “The Problem of Re-
ligious Knowledge.” And again, the
geologists looked into the earth in their
two sessions on “The Igneous Rocks of
the Appalachian Mountains System,”
while the astronomers looked up to the
stars in theirs on “Intrinsic Stellar
Variation.”

The few’ programs that have been men-

THE SYMPHONY ORCHBSTKA ABOUT TO PLAY FOR THE ASSOCIATION

HHOWmo ONLY ABOUT HALF OF THE BWARTHMORB OKOUP : BB. SWANN 18 STANDING.

Naturally the w^orld war stimulated
the organization of certain programs,
the most obvious being “Psychology and
the National Emergency.” One of the
participants was Dr. Leonard * Car-
michael, president of Tufts College and
chairman of the committee which is pre-
paring, for national defense, an essen-
tially complete roster of the tens of
thousands of American scientists, to-
gether with their respective prepara-
tions, qualifications and preferences for
service.

tioned illustrate the enormous diversity
of the aspects of science. They are as
varied as the interests of the human
mind; indeed, they are more varied, for
science is now involved in every human
activity and is rapidly creating innumer-
able new interests — and problems. The
rapid changes that are taking place in
the world as a consequence of science are
disturbing to many persons, especially to
those gentle souls who find happiness in
drifting with the tide. But reason and
the whole history of the earth, and of the

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

187

life on it8 surface, teach us that improve-
ments come only with chanj?e8 and that
dinosaurian complacjeiicy wdth existing
conditions leads only to stagnation and
extinction. Those who participated in
the programs that have been enumer-
ated, and in many others, i>refer to pur-
sue the entrancing and adventurous
paths of science.

The scientist, however, is not simply a
rigid exi>erim enter or a (fold logical
machine. Whatever rare qualities he
may have while he is working in his own
special field, he is nevertheless a human
being and shares in the weakness of
human beings. He also shares with
artists, often to a very excei)tional de-
gree, an appreciation of and skill in
various arts. Mathematieians and as-
tronomers have long been noted for their
taste for music. Of (‘ourse not everj*^
mathematician has musical talent. Pos-
sibly the percentage of mathematicians
who love music is not greater than that
among other persons of similar culture.
The tradition may have arisen because
it seems incongruous to a non-mathema-
tician that a mathematician should be
interested in artistic things. There ap-
pears to be no claim that musicians as a
class have exceptional mathematical abil-
ity.

Whatever the statistical facts may be,
it is highly probable that scientists are
at least as gifted in art as the average
person. They must be, for science at its
highest level is art. It produces esthetic
effects similar to those produced by
music, poetry and painting. The re-
cently elected president of the associa-
tion, Dr. Irving Langmuir, is an artist
in everything he does. He listens to
symphonies musicians never heard and
sees rainbows that never appeared in the
sky. In his work he builds beautiful
structures that the language of ordinary
mortals can not describe.

All I have said about scientists and
music was illustrated at a tea for the

T)H. SWANN PLAYING THE CELLO

EXECUTING MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT

FROM LEIT TO RIQHT: J, STOODSLL BTOREB, CHAIR-
MAN OF THE ENTERTAINMIKT COMMITTRS FOB
THE ASSOCIATION; DR. W. F. G. SWANN, DIRECTOR
OF THE SWARTHMORB BYMPHOfNT ORGHXBtBA,
AND LlTCnm COLE, CONCERT MASTER.

188

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

members of the association provided by
the local committee in Philadelphia, A
great physicist, mathematician and sci-
entist led the Swarthmore Symphony
Orchestra of about seventy members in
rendering a spl(‘iidid program of classi-
cal music. This remarkable leader was
W. F. G. Swann, director of the Bartol
Besearch Laboratory. Concerning the
composition of his orchestra, which was
founded in 1936, he says:

‘‘Our membership covers a very wide
field of professional activities. Our
First Bassoon, Dr. R. L. Spencer, is
Dean of the College of Mecdianical Engi-
neering of the University of Delaware.
He drives 30 miles each way for a re-

hearsal every Wednesday evening. Our
Second Bassoon comes from a distance of
10 miles in the opposite direction. Our
leading Doublebass, K. C. Disque, is
Dean of Drexel Institute. We have
among our organization ten engineers,
two chemists, a physicist (not counting
myself) two physicians, a dentist, etc.
Oui^ chief Cellist, Mr. Natclio Vasileff,
is a chemist, and he adds to his accom-
plishments that of a composer; the Noc-
turne which we played at the American
Association for the Advancement of
Science Reception was composed by him
and dedicated to me.’’

F. R. Moulton,
Permanent Secretary

NUTRITION AND GROWTH OF PLANTS'

A CONCEPT at one time often held by
students of plant nutrition was that the
absorption of inorganic nutrients by
roots is a process in which the roots play
a passive role and main emphasis was
placed on permeability factors. Some
early studies in the California Agricul-
tural Ex]>eriment Station on barley

DR. DENNIS ROBERT HOAGLAND

plants and later on cells of the fresh-
water alga Nitella^ from which latter
vacuolar sap only slightly contaminated
could be obtained, gave evidence that
ions can be absorbed by plant cells
against concentration or activity gradi-
ents, with the use of metabolic energy.
With this interpretation in view, F. C.
Steward conducted experiments of basic
importance on potato tuber tissues, and
the relation of aerobic metabolism to ion
accumulation (movement and storage
against a gradient) was demonstrated
for these tissues.

Of direct interest to the subject of the
paper are the extensive studies of Hoag-
land and Broyer on the metabolic proc-
esses in root cells involved in the accumu-
lation of inorganic solutes and also
certain types of movement of these
solutes from the roots to the upper parts
of the plant. A technique was developed
by which young barley plants produced
root systems of extremely high capacity
to accumulate mobile ions, e.g., potas-
sium, bromide and nitrate ions. In

' Review of the paper entitled * ‘ Availability
of Nutrients for Plant Growth with Special Ref-
erence to Physiological Aspects,’’ presented by
D. R. Hoagland and p. I, Amon at the meetings
of the American Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, December, 1040^

THE PE0GEE8S OP SCIENCE

189

many of the experiments some of the
great complexities of the whole plant
system were avoided by making observa-
tions on excised roots over brief experi-
mental periods. In this way direct evi-
dence was secured with reference to the
effects on salt accumulation of oxygen,
carbon dioxide, temperature, concentra-
tion of salt and hydrogen ion concentra-
tion in the external environment, and

of available carbohydrate in the root
cells. Briefly, the evidence led to the
conclusion that the most rapid absorp-
tion of ions and their accumulation
aj^ainst gradients occurred as a result of
protoplasmic activities reflected in aero-
bic respiration for which a supply of
oxygen, sugar and presumably of certain
growth substances arc essential. Sugar
and some other reqtiired organic con-
stituents are, of course, normally de-
rived from the photosynthesizing tissues
of the plant. When other conditions do
not limit, the temperature coefficient of
the accumulation process is found to be
high.

The efficiency of highly active roots
in removing from a nutrient solution
ions like potassium and nitrate is very
high. In fact, concentrations may
sometimes be reduced almost to zero in
the solution at the same time that the
sap from the roots has high concentra-
tions of the ions absorbed. Reciprocal
relations of root and shoot in the process
of nutrient intake by the plant may be
more clearly envisaged on the basis of
these and other researches along similar
lines. The remarkably rapid and selec-
tive absorption of certain ions from very
dilute solutions is of great interest in
the study of availability of nutrients in
soils. Experiments by Arnon and his
associates using other types of technique
also developed evidence of the impor-
tance of metabolic relations in the study
of problems of general plant nutrition,
including researches on nitrate and am-
monium salts as sources of nitrogen in
the culture medium.

Since there is naturally a limit to the
salt-holding capacity of root cells, the
absorption of ions by intact plants over
any extended period depends not only
on the intake factors already described
but also on the upward movement or
transport of solutes to the shoot. Ex-
periments over limited intervals of time
on young barley plants with very active
root systems showed that this movement
can take place about as readily in the
dark as in the light. Excellent growth
of such young plants was possible even
when nutrients were supplied only dur-
ing night periods. Absorption of nutri-
ents w’as approximately the same for
12-hour jieriods including either day or
night. In other words, the plants were
at work 24 hours a day when nutrients
were made continuously available and
the metabolic activities of the roots
maintained. However, root pressure
conditions are important in these eases,
when transpiration is reduced. With
older and larger plants the evidence is
that continued absorption of ions may
depend, indirectly, on transpiration as a

DR, D. I. ARNON

190

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

WATKR CUIiTURE EQUIPMENT
FOB STUDY or NUTRITION OF I.ETTUCF. PLANTS
WITH BEFKBENOB TO AERATION OF ROOTS AND
PBOPEBTUC8 OP NUTRIENT SOLUTIONS.

} I

r I, ' . f ‘ '

YOITNO BARLEY PLANTS

QROWN BY TECHNIQUK ADAPTED TO PEODUCTION
or K00T8 OF HIGH CAPACITY TO ABBORB AND ACCU-
MULATE CERTAIN IONS.

meam of accelerating upward movement
of solutes. But even in transpiring
plants some experiments suggest that cell
activities are involved in the movement
of solutes intu the conducting tissues.
The writers of the paper, while stressing
the significance of active absorption for
normal plant growth, also call attention
to the possibility that under the influence
of transpiration, another type of absorp-
tion and upward movement of solutes
may take place through inactive or in-
jured roots, and this is illustrated by
experiments in which the culture solu-
tions contained sodium salts in increas-
ing concentration up to a point of injury.

In investigations of the absorption of
ions and their movement in the plant it
is frequently desirable to study estab-
lished plants over short periods during
which the plant system as a whole under-
goes as little alteration as possible. The
problem then may arise as to technique
by which small amounts of elements ab-
sorbed and distributed in the plant dur-
ing the experimental period may be
determined. Special difficulties must be
faced when it is decided to study the
same elements that are already present
in the plant at the beginning of the
experiment. Fortunately these difficul-
ties can often be surmounted by the aid
of the new tool of radioactive isotopes,
and various workers in the laboratory
have employed radioactive potassium,
phosphorus, sodium, bromine^ and ru-
bidium in the further investigation of
problems of absorption and movement of
inorganic solutes in the plant. ^

Jenny and Overstreet in this labora-
tory have found great value in the radio-
active isotopes as a means of study in
their attack on the problem of contact
intake of ions by plant roots. Evidence
was obtained that plants may absorb
some ions by direct contact exchange of
ions between roots and soil colloids as
well as from the soil solution. The gen-
eral technique already referred to for

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

191

making observations on actively absorb-
ing roots was utili7>ed in the researches
on absorption of ions from suspensions
of soil colloids.

Accumulation of solutes may occur,
not only in root cells, but likewise in
other parts of the plant. Arnon and
Stout carried through a series of experi-
ments on fruiting tomato plants in which
they followed the movement of radio-
active phosphate added to the nutrient

upward movement of salts and of the
relation of transpiration to this move-
ment.

The authors devote part of their paper
to a discussion of the general significance
of physiological investigations for the
practical problems of plant nutrition.
They cite their experiments to compare
the growth of plants in soil, sand and
water cultur«‘ media as bearing on the
importance of effe<*ts of aeration of the

CHAMBER FOR CONTROLLED GROWING CONDITIONS

PLANTS UNDER CONTROLLED CONDITIONS OF LIGHT, TEMPERATURE, HUMIDITY AND NUTRIENT SOLU-
TION, IN SOME OF THE STUDIES ON ABSORPTION AND TRANSPORT OF NUTRIENT IONS. THIS ILLUS-
TRATION SHOWS TOMATO PLANTS USED IN A PRELIMINARY EXPERIMENT OF ANOTHER TYPE.

solution when the plants had reached the
desired stage of development. The
younger and most rapidly growing
fruits had the greatest ability to accumu-
late the newly supplied phosphate. Its
distribution in fruit or foliage was dem-
onstrated in graphic manner by making
radiographs of the tissues. By employ-
ing radioactive isotopes, Stout, Hoag-
land and Broyer, and Bennett have
gained an especially definite kind of evi-
dence on the old problem of which plant
tissues are mainly responsible for the

root medium. It is pointed out also that
aside from direct effects of oxygen on the
process of ion absorption, aeration of the
soil may profoundly influence the growth
of roots and the development of root sur-
face. TTpder favorable conditions this

, r

surface itaay be enormous in extent and
thus innumerable contacts established
with soil particies. This exploration of
soil by roots and all the factors that in-
fluence it, including the internal metabo-
lism of the plant and the climatic condi-
tions, as well as physical and chemical

192

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

conditions in tlie soil, must be of great
consequence for an understanding of
availability of nutrients.

Specific questions of potassium and
phosphate absorption by plants under
different soil conditions are discussed
from the physiological point of view.
Some attention is also given to the micro
nutrient elements (elements effective in
plant growtli in very minute amounts).
The climatic influence affecting the re-
quirement or absorption of zinc by
plants is cited as an example of a physio-
logical interrelation of soil and plant.

This paper was written as a contribu-
tion to a symposium dealing with the
general subject of absorption of nutrient

ions by plants and their availability in
soils for plant growth. The field was
broad and the writers considered not
only tlieir own investigations, but also
those of other workers in the University
of California Laboratory of Plant Nutri-
tion who have dealt in recent years with
physiological aspects of the general prob-
lem mnder review. The illuminating
results obtained by Professor Hoagland
and other workers in the laboratory have
demonstrated that the plant correlates a
multiplicity of functions to acquire from
the environment the necessary nutrients
and to distribute them to the various
centers of activity.

H. S. Reed

RAYMOND PEARL. 1S79-19401

In the death of Raymond Pearl on
November 17, 1940, biology loses one of
its outstanding figures. He was born at
Farmington, New Hampshire, on June 3,
1879. At Dartmouth College he studieil
biology under William Patten and H. 8.
Jennings. On his graduation in 1899 he
was appointed assistant in zoology at the
University of Michigan, where he re-
ceived the degree of doctor of philosophy
in 1902.

In his memorial of Karl Pearson,
Pearl has told how Pearson’s ‘‘The
chances of death” stirred his under-
graduate imagination and enthusiasm.
”It was alive, hearty, vigorous. It was
about a lot of things you could do some-
thing about. It inspired curiosity ^nd
action, rather than awe.’ To a .callow
budding biologist, very young and very
ignorant, it opened enchanting vistas of
possibilities in biological thinking and
research before undreamed of.” It is
little wonder then that the years 1905
and 1906 found Pearl a student in Pear-
son ’s biometric laboratory at University
College, London. Although the two did
not always agree on biologic matters,
Pearson’s influence on Pearl was strong.

^ Submitted for publication on Beeenibor 30,
1940.

Prom 1907 to 1918 Pearl was head of
the department of biology of the Maine
Agricultural Experiment Station. Dur-
ing this period his work dealt largely
with the biology of the domestic animals,
notable researches being on the inheri-
t.ance of egg production and of milk pro-
duction.

On the entry of the United States
into the First World War Pearl became
chief of the statistical division of the
United States Food Administration.
His studies on the relation of food sup-
ply to population are presented in “The
nation’s food.”

From 1918 until his death Pearl was
on the faculty of the Johns Hopkins
University, first as professor of biometry
and vital statistics in the School of
Hygiene and Public Health, then from
1925 to 1930 as director of the Institute
for Biological Research, and finally as
professor of biology in the School of
Hygiene. Although much of his atten-
tion was given to research, his influence
as a teacher was felt by many of the
younger generation of statisticians.
Most of Pearl’s studies at Johns Hopkins
centered around the biology of popula-
tion growth and of the factors that enter
into it, such as birth rates and death

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

193

BAYMONB PEARL

194

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

rates. In 1798 Maltluis had emphasized
the checks to the growth of population,
but the rapid expansion of industry dur-
ing the nineteenth century had led most
students of the subject to disregard
them. Pearl was, so far as we know,
the first writer of recent times to re-
emphasize that there must be a finite
upper limit to any population. This
was one of the postulates from which
Pearl and Reed derived the logistic
curve, which, it was later found, had
been proposed nearly three quarters of
a century before by the Belgian mathe-
matician, Verhulst. This curve fits
closely to the growth of the populations
of a large number of countries. It also
describes the growth of experimental
populations of fruit-flies.

A related subject which Pearl also in-
vestigated by the experimental method
was the inheritance of the duration of
life. Different lines of descent of fruit-
flies, he found, had different distribu-
tions of longevity and when a fly of a
long-lived line was mated with one of a
short-lived line the duration of life of
their descendants followed the ordinary
course of mendelian inheritance. Natu-
rally one can not investigate the inheri-
tance of longevity in man by the experi-
mental method, but it has been found by
the statistical method that in man, as in
the fruit-fly, inheritance is an important
factor in determining the duration of
life.

Connected with these investigations of
the factors that* affect death w^re the
investigations of the factors that affect
birth desc»Tibed in “The natural history
of population/’ These included the
analysis, not only of official vital statis-
tics on birth rates, but also of informa-
tion about the reproductive histories of a
large sample of women, obtained from
them while they were patients in the
obstetric services of hospitals.

Besides these researches of his own in

the field that unites biology to the social
sciences, Pearl found time to aid in the
advancement of science both by partici-
pation in the direction of scientific socie-
ties and by the editing of scientific jour-
nals. He was the leading spirit in the
formation of the International Union
for the Scientific Investigation of Popu-
lation Problems, of which he was presi-
dent from 1928 to 19110. He was also at
various times president of the American
Association of Physical Anthropologists,
the American Society of Zoologists, the
American Society of Naturalists and the
American Statistical Association and a
member of the council of the National
Academy of Sciences. He was the
founder and the editor until his death
of The Quarterly Review of Biology and
of Human Biology,

Pearl once commented on the great
similarity between original creative
effort in art and in science. The artistic
side of his own nature is shown, not only
by his delight in music, but also by his
literary skill in presenting his scientific
results. Certainly no one could apply to
bis writings his criticism that “scientific
journals are, at the best, occasionally
dull, and, at the worst, always so.”

Another token of his artistic sensibil-
ity was his care in the planning of head-
pieces and tailpieces for The Quarterly
Review of Biology and Human Biology,
The bowman who forms the leitmotiv of
the latter was taken from the wall deco-
ration of a paleolithic rock shelter. The
prehistoric artist, who was bom before
the days of Queen Victoria, had repre-
sented the bowman with all his members.
When the desigu was submitted to the
publisher of Human Biology, he pro-
tested that it would offend the postal
authorities. The bowman was therefore
emasculated and the putative sensibili-
ties of the postal authorities were spared.

John B. Miner
Joseph Bsrkson

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

195

NEW **1NDEX EXHIBIT” AT THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

On Monday, January 20, after six
months behind closed doors, the Smith-
sonian Institution in Washington opened
to the public a unique and fascinating
exhibit designed to clarify for its mil-
lions of visitors the diverse activities
and affiliations of the institution. For
95 years the Smithsonian in its labora-
tories and study rooms has delved into
the mysteries of many branches of
science ; liundreds of its expeditions
have gone out to the far corners of the
earth in search of new facta and mate-
rials; its investigations have been re-
corded on nearly 500,000 pages of print,
making up thousands of volumes of basic
scientific knowledge that can be found
in most of the world’s large libraries.
As the years have rolled by and our
country has groMii in size and grandeur,
so too has the Smithsonian grown and
expanded its sphere of usefulness. Its
fields of activity have multiplied and its

physical equipment of buildings for re-
search and exhibition have increased in
number.

For the benefit of visitors who are
puzzled by the apparent heterogeneity of
the institution’s activities, the new ex-
hibit is planned so as to classify these
activities under major headings, briefly
defined. The great Gothic hall of the
institution, 123 feet long by 50 feet wide,
is divided into 12 alcoves, each with its
appropriate heading. Each has a cen-
tral theme, intended to visualize in some
striking way the significance of the par-
ticular activity portrayed.

As the visitor enters the hall, he sees
on the right a quadrant whereon are
listed the subjects of Smithsonian activi-
ties in the order in which they are ex-
hibited ; also, a list of the eight methods
used by the institution for the diffusion
of knowdedge. On this first quadrant is
a large sign telling him that to see the

ONE OOBNBB OF THE EXHIBITION HAUL AT THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

SHOWXKO SZCTXOirS OF Taxix OF THE BXBtBXTS.

196

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION BUILDING

WHXES THE NEW EXHIBITION IS LOCATED.

exhibit in logical order he should be^in
with the adjoining alcove and proceed
completely around the hall.

The first exhibit is that of astronomy,
and this is followed in turn around the
hall by geology, biology, radiation and
organisms. National Zoological Park,
history, physical anthropology, cultural
anthropology, engineering and indus-
tries, and art. The final quadrant — ^the
last thing the visitor will see as he leaves
the hall — ^is devoted to a pictorial ex-
planation of the organization and
branches of the Smithsonian, so that the
visitor will leave with an understanding

of the present rather complex set-up of
the institution.

A separate room is devoted to exempli-
fying the Smithsonian ^s methods of dif-
fusing knowledge, the second major
objective of the institution.

The theme of the entire exhibit is sim-
plicity. A multiplicity of objects is
carefully avoided, and all labels are brief
and plainly worded. The strictly en-
forced aim is to give a quick, easily com-
prehended bird’s-eye view of Smith-
sonian activities and organization.

Webster True,
Editor

MARCH, 1941

POST-NATAL DEVELOPMENT OF

By Dr. C. B. DAVBNPORT

COLD sraiHO BAUOB, N. T.

The development of the child in the proper way to mass data. Commonly
ntenw haa long been made the subject of age is taken as the basis of grouping;
careful study. Probably a scientific but it has been properly urged tiwt
curiosity has led many to study a stage children differ so in speed of growth
in human development so hidden from that stage of development is to be eon*
ordinary observation. But from birth sidered in massing. But such a pro*
on the development of the child is open cedure meets with even greater diiBenl*
to the observation of all. It has been ties. Gradually the conviction has
taken for granted. Its changes have not, dawned that “the chUd’’ as revealed by
until recently, been analytically invest!- mass statistics of any sort is a bit of
gated. Now a beginning haa been made, fiction. Bealily is found only in the
The proportions of the new-born babe, growth changes of individual children:
with its big bead and short extremities, Mary, John, Greta, Hans, Giovanna,
are very obviously different from those Antonio, Bose and Isidore,
of the adult ; but again these differences. As a part of a program to learn how
observed for millemiia , have only re- individual children grow and especially
cfflijdy been measured. As for the how their proportions change the mea*
eMgiges at adolescence, though noted by surements made upon the hea^ of a
^il^iaother whose son outgrows his clothes large number of children followed for
illfkNW they are worn out, their anal^ a number of years (in extreme eases
: IMs hardly begun. Precue measurement during 14 years) were assembled and
of aU changes is called for. generalisations drawn from themu The

The measurements on child American Philosophical Society under*

llrowth were apparently made on the took to publish the results. Some of the
taeit assumption that there was a more findings may have a genmul interest
: w less uniform object— “the child.*' and consequently are recounted here<

^ W oldld underwent changes in sise and The human head is an extraordinary
/ devdopSMttt. But since “the child” organ both on account of its rdativelyi
was std^jeet to, aeeidental fluctoaticm in great sise and because it endoses maa^ '
dhvdopineitt, ^ proper pieture of the rdativdy large brain and carrisB Ms
: 5 niy “child” grows is given not by relative!^ reduced face. A.t the end of
iBSSsuremSiit (d one ehild, but by measur* t^e firgt quarter of intrauterine deivd<^
ini tiiitiy efaildi^ masting and aver* ment-bony plateo begin to be fonad
aieasnT«neiitit Vvea this pro* around the brain, but tiiese are ast
met wtih the diOenlty of the united until some aionihs after birtiiu

198

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

This delay in ossification is a clear adap-
tation to the birth process in which, of
all parts of the child, the head offers the
greatest difficulties. It is the great size
of the head of the new-born that offers
such difficulties. At birth the head has
acquired nearly 66 per cent, of its adult
size; by the end of the sixth post-natal
month 80 per cent.; while at birth sta-
ture is only 40 per cent, of completion.
Growth of the head, especially of the
brain case, is the most precocious of aU
parts of ^e body. Why is thist Of
course we don’t know all the circum-
stances that have led to the great cranial
precocity of the new-born. But we can
see some reasons for it; and these are
mostly reasons why the brain should be
so precocious. Indeed, at birth it consti-
tutes about 12 per cent, of the weight of
the body, while in the adult it consti-
tutes only about 2 per cent. It seems
probable that one reason is that the brain
must be ready to perform a large part
of its functions at birth. To be sure,
the average baby at birth is not able to
be as active as a new-born colt. In its
helplessness it is more like a puppy.
But its senses become quickly functional.
It looks at a bright light shortly after

■

III

IIIB

■

III

!■

■

i»i

■

i:i2

■III

■

■1

!■

■

FIG. 1. CHANGE WITH AGE OF INDEX

CURVES OF MEAN CHANGE WITH AOS OF THE CE-
PHALIC INDEX OF NORMAL WHITE NORDIC CBIL-
DREN. ABSCISSAE ; AGE IN YEARS. ‘ ^ 0 , ^ ’ BIBTB.
ORDINATES: THE CEPHALIC INDEX, OB THE PER-
CENTAGE RATIO OF BEAD WIDTB/HEAD LENGTH.
SOLD) LINE, BOYS; BROKEN LINE, GIRLS; DOTS,
MEANS OF BABY BOYS, BIRTH TO 3} YEARS; CXR-
CLES, BABY GIRLS; X AND + MALE AND FEMALE
OLDER CHILDERN. 8, CHANGE OF INDEX WITH
. AGE OF FEHMARANEE (SALLER).

birth. It may react to sounds within a
few da 3 r 8 after birth. The sense of taste
is usually well developed. The nipple is
clearly felt. The neuro-muscular system
is developed enough to function in suck-
ling and in the movement of the extrem-
ities. The latter movements, indeed,
precede birth for some weeks. Within
limits the neonate is a going concern.

Another reason why the brain is so
large at birth may be because it has so
much to do in the course of development
to be ready for more complicated mental
function such as speech and all the play
reactions. It is estimated that there are
13,500,000,000 neurons (or nerve cells
and their fibrous prolongations) in the
human cerebral cortex. Then there are
additional hundreds of millions in the
cerebellum. In order that these should
be pretty generally available before the
child begins to walk at one year the de-
velopment of the brain has to begin early
and proceed rapidly — ^more rapidly than
all other, less complex, organs.

The brain case not only enlarges in
the first few months after birth, but it
changes shape — ^above all in the first few
days after birth. This change of shape is
well shown by changes in the cephalic
index, which gives the relation of head
width, above the ears, to the head length.
On the average before birth the index
decreases until at birth the head is rela-
tively elongated (dolichocephalic) ap-
parently in adjustment to the space in
the uterus. During the days of adjust-
ment to and accomplishment of the birth
process the head is rendered temporarily
more brachycephalic as that diape fits
better the pelvic canal. For the next
few months the head elongates again but
subsequently tends, on the average, to
become relatively wider (Pig. 1).

The brain case is, indeed, not the rigid
thing that the dried skull is. During
infancy and childhood it is responsive
to a changing environment. If the in*
f ant lies with the back of the head sunk

POST-NATAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE HEAD

199

in a soft pillow^ or if it is fastened to a
board with the occiput resting on it the
head becomes flattened behind. But if
it lies on the side of the head it tends to
become longheaded. This has been dem-
onstrated experimentally. However,
the difference thus induced becomes
mostly smoothed out in later childhood
unless the pressure has been too pro-
longed or too rigid, as happens in flat-
beaded Indians and Armenians. The
plasticity of the skull is shown by the
fact that the distance above the ears
decreases when the child begins to walk,
owing to the pull of gravity, and when
a boy jumps from the shed roof to the
floor the form of the head may be tem-
porarily changed by the blow received at
the base of tlie brain case. In fact, all
the way to puberty the boy’s skull tends
to flatten more and more at its base,
doubtless due to gravity (Pig. 2).

Even in the early teens of children,
after the bones of their skulls have come
more or less in contact, the sides of the
skull changes shape owing to the circum-
stance that the bone that carries the in-
ternal ear grows faster in front and
below than in other radii so that the ear
opening tends to move backward and
upward. By this process the part of the
head behind the ear ceases to grow as
fast as it otherwise would (Fig. 3).

The form of the brain case is, as is
generally known, very different in dif-
ferent races of the Old World. Thus the
Negroes have a relatively long skull.
The inhabitants of southern Germany
and Switzerland have short slnills. These
differences are apparently due to dif-
ferent methods of growth of the brain
itself around which the case is molded.
The brain case undergoes great modi-
fications from the standard owing to de-
fects in the growth process of the brain
and bones of the skull. Thus in hydro-
cephalics (with water on the brain) the
sMl is greatly enlarged, whereas in
microcephalies the brain case remains

PIG. 2. HEAD HEIGHT AND LENGTH

CUBVXB OF MEAN OHAKOE W IT H ACHE OF THE PBE-
CSNTAQB RATIO OF BUPBAAUBICULAX HEAD HEIGHT
TO MAXIMUM HEAD LENGTH, NORMAL WHITE NOB*
DIO CHILDREN. BOLID LINE, BOTS; BROKEN LINE,
GIRLS. SYMBOLS AS IN FIG. 1.

like that of an infant. The microcephalic
condition has been assumed to be due to
the early union of the sutures of the
bones that make up the brain case, but
that is certainly not the whole story, for
in a certain microcephalic boy the di-
mensions of the brain case were still
increasing during puberty, at a much
faster rate than the skull dimensions of
a standard child (Pig. 4). This shows
clearly that even after union of the
sutures the brain case can enlarge
through an increase in the substance of
the bones elsewhere than along their
margins.

The capacity of the bones of the skull
to undergo profound transformations in
their very substance is well seen in the
formation of the frontal sinus, the large
spaces both above the root of the nose
and at the level of the eyebrows. The
frontal sinus varies greatly in develop-
ment from nothing at all to a large,
bladder-like space* Its presence be-
comes painfully known when the lining
membrane becomes infected and drain-
age through the nasal sinuses is ob-
structed*

The sinus begins to form during early
childhood in the interior of the frontal
bone in the layer of spongy bone that
lies between the two dense surfaces. As
the pocket from the nasal cavity pene-
trates into this spongy tissue the two
dense layers may separate widely from
each other to the extent of nearly a half

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHJiT

200

□

>•■1

■

Bf/M

■

•

■

•

!■

■

!■

T V

SMM

mmm

(

hmM

■

' i

\ U

\ M

I N

FIG. 8. EAB OPENINGS

OUBVBS OF MSAK OBAKOB WITH AOX OF THX F08T-
AUXICULAB TO ICAXIHUM BEAD LXNOTB. TBI8
8B0WB TBAT TBE PAST OF TBX SKULL BEBINP
TBS BAB8 BB00KK8 BBLATIVELT LXB8 FBOIC 4 TO
10 OB 12 YXABS. XVXN LATBB TBX BAB OPENINGS
TEND TO MOVE BAOKWABD 80 TBAT THX POST-
AUBICULAB INCBEA8X IS LESS THAN IT WOULD

OTHEEWI8X BE.

an inch. The whole frontal bone is re-
modeled during this development of the
frontal sinus. The frontal sinus seems
to have no important function in man.
There is nothing gained by its presence,
so that children who have no frontal
sinus seem to function quite as normally
as those who have. It is probably a
rudimentary organ which was usefid in
the anthropoid apes with their heavy
(^ull bones, just as the sinuses in the head
of the elephant makes its weight toler-
able ; but in man where the skull is bal-
anced on the end of the vertebral axis
the weight of the skull becomes a rela-
tively unimportant matter.

In the development of the head the
changes in the face are very marked ;
indeed, one of the principal differences'
between the heads of the anthropoid apes
and man is the great reduction of tiie
face in the latter. In the baby at birth
the face is, indeed, a very small part of
the head, as it is also in newly bom
anthropoid apes. But whereas in the
young ape the jaws develop rapidly and
to great extent, in the child th«y remain
always relatively reduced. The nose is

perhaps the most prominent part of the
face of the bhild. This develops slowly
and reaches a degree of protrusion not
attained in the apes.

Changes in the form of the face are
largely due to the development ot the
jaws as the teeth ore successiTdy pro-
duced in them. Especially as the perma-
nent dentition becomes functional and
the three molars are formed the jaws be-
gin to move forward. At the same time
the great development of the maxillary
sinas pushes forward still more the up-
per jaw to keep up with the growth of
the lower jaw. Perfect occlusion of the
jaws requires a harmony in the develoi)-
ment of these two independent regions.
It is perhaps not strange that we so
frequently find a lack of harmony in peo-
ple, with lower jaws receding or some-
times protruding, as is most strikingly
seen in the bulldog.

Of the facial features one of the most
striking is the pair of eyes. The human
eyes have undergone a great change in
position from that of very remote ances-

FIO. 4. OBOWTH OF BEAD OIBTH
iNDiviimAj:. oDBVie or ouwtb or inu» oum or

VWXNS AKD SOHB STSOUL OASBS. VBS OOBVW
or TBS TWtKB LIS ICOSrLT OLOSB MOSmi.
ousvss 1, S, 8 ASS or ossnira (uam bsaos).
va. IS TBS OVBVB Or A XtOBOOErBAUa ITS
SLOTS or mossAss is at 17-U tsabs sms

OBSATSS THAN THAT OT TBS NOSXAL OBIUIBBB.

POST-NATAL DEVELOPMENT OP THE HEAD 201

tdn. The eyes were oiiginally paired
organs as we see in fishes and even in
tile lower mammals, like horses. During
human ontogenetic development the eyes
begin as organs on the side of the head
and gradually move to a position such
that they look forward. This process
is not completed at birth. The angle
subtended by the optic nerves passing
from the brain to the two orbits con-
tinues to diminish to puberty. This re-
sult is due to the interaction of two
growth processes, one of which brings
about the enlargement of the face as a
whole and specifically in the transverse
diameter and the other a tendency of the
orbital angle to diminish. The first
process tends to separate the eyes, the
latter to bring them together. The ap-
proximation of the eyes is brought about
in two ways. First, by the elevation of
the root of the nose the skin is pulled
away from the inner angles of the eyes.
This happens in the case of European
children, but in the case of the eastern
Asiatics, where the root of the nose is
shallow, a fold of skin persistently cov-
ers the inner angle of the eye. The sec-
ond process affects the nasal and orbital
bones, also partly in consequence of the
reconstimetion of the root of the nose.
Thus the eyes, while separating as the
head grows, separate less than the rest of
the face and so the angle of divergence
is reduced. Thus in a baby who was
measured at 145 days after birth and
again at 711 days the interorbital angle
was reduced from 55° to 48° (Fig. 6).

Changes such as appear in the ex-
ternal dimensions of the skull ease and
the face are appearing also in the in-
ternal structure of the skull. Thus the
pituitaiy body lies near the center of
the head in the middle plane. It is
larg^ imbedded in the sphenoid bone,
one of the hardest bones in the body, and
it is partly encapsuled by a bony wall.
Tlie siie of this capsule (called the sdla
tturcioa} is very variable, being twice

FIG. 5. HOBIZONTAL SECTIONS OF HEAD

C0K8TRU0TIVE OUTLINES OP HOBIZONTAL 8BCTI0H8
OP HEAD OP A BABY BOY, AT THE AOE OP 145

DAYS , AND 711 DAYS (1 YB. 11) 1C08.)

THIS DISTANCE PBOIC INTEBTEAQIAL

LINE TO OBBIT 18 DntEOTLY ICSASUBED OB OOM*
PUTED PBOM ADJACENT MEASUBE1CENT8. INTBB*
PUPILLABY DISTANCE IS XEA8UBED (BALP THE
6UK OP DISTANCES BETWEEN OUTEB AND INNBE
ANOLES OP PALPEBBAL SLITS). THE TANOENT OP
) INTEBFUPILLABY DISTANCE DIVIDED BY TBAOION
TO OBBIT IS POUND AND DOUBLED. THE ANOLE AT

145 DAYS IS 55^.4; at 711 days 48^.8. pbox
A SEBIES OP MEASUBEKENTS AT INTEBICEDIATE
AGES ASSUBANCE 18 GAINED THAT THE DIPPEEBNOB
IS NOT DUB ICBBELY TO TECHNICAL AOOlDBNTSe
BEDUCU) TO 44 FEB CENT. OP NATUBAL SUB.

as great in some children as others.
This variation in size of the sdla is as-
sociated with variation in size of the
pituitary body. This pituitary body
yields hormones of very great importance
for the normal development of the child*
However, the size of the pituitary hoitf
is probably not more important than the
quality of the secretions which it pro-
duces so that the correlation between
size of the pituitary body and the size
of the body as a whole is not very large.

Now studies of the sdla turdca in
individual children repeated during a

202

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

number of years in the pre-, middle-, and
post-adolescent periods, show that the
volume of the size of the sella turcica
may change regularly, generally increas-
ing, with the growth of the body as a
whole. However, in some cases the size
of the sella turcica may actually dimin-
ish so that there is a readjustment of the
hard bone in that the sella contracts to
constitute a better fit of the shifting
size of the pituitary body. It is well
known, on the other hand, that the
pituitary body may become enormously
enlarged by the formation of a tumor in
it, and under those circumstances the
sella turcica becomes enlarged to meet
the changes in size of the delicate
pituitary body.

All these observations on the develop-
ment of the head point to one conclusion,
that there is first of all a set of internal
directing forces in the growth of the
brain and all the bones and other tissues
of the head. These are the genetical
factors. These developmental growth
processes are, however, constantly af-
fected by environmental conditions so
that the growth may be modified by these
changing conditions. Throughout de-
velopment the living bones show them-
selves very plastic and able to reconstruct

themsdves as conditions demand, and
the individual bone will adjust itsdbf to
the growth of adjacent bones and other
tissues. The bones even respond to the
pull of muscles and are largely molded
by such pulls.

During the early stages of develop-
ment the internal processes in the de-
velopment of the head of the child show
themselves to be much the same as the
early processes in the head of the
anthropoid apes. As later developmental
processes appear the development of the
skull leaves the ancestral path and
strikes out in new lines, thus establish-
ing the particular form, of the human
head. The path along which the human
head develops even in its later stages is
not a single one, however, as there are
marked differences associated with sex,
race, general physical and mental de-
velopment and with varying functioning
of endocrine glands and other growth-
modifying processes. The whole study
brings out clearly the fact that birth is
only an incident in the development of
the human being and that the post-natal
changes which have been hitherto so
much neglected are as real and in many
cases as profound as some of the pre-
natal ones.

THE DISTRIBUTION OF HUMAN GENES

By Dr. HBRLUF H. 8TRAND8KOV

DBPABTICBNT OF ZOOLOOT, UKIVBBBITY OP CHICAGO

Introduction

Man is an extremely variable species.
He ranges from one who is short to one
who is tall, from one who is white to one
who is black, from one who is color-blind
to one who has normal color vision. This
list of man’s variable characters could
be extended almost without end.

One of the interests of the human
geneticist is to find out which of man’s
variable characters have a hereditary
basis. By this is meant to find out which
of man’s characters vary as a result of
variations in hereditary factors. Char-
acters may also vary as a result of varia-
tions in environmental factors, but a
study of the role of these factors is pri-
marily the concern of the human ecolo-
gist.

Having decided that a particular char-
acter has some hereditary basis the
human geneticist proceeds to determine
the exact manner in which that variable
character is inherited — ^to decide whether
it is inherited as a simple Mendelian
dominant or recessive or in some more
complex Mendelian way. Frequently
this is not an easy task, not only because
the mode of inheritance may be complex
but also because man’s own biological
characteristics make it a difficult one.
His generation span is long and his fam-
ily sise is small. Furthermore, society
imposes certain restrictions upon the hu-
man geneticist. He is not permitted to
order matings to test his hypotheses.
However, despite these handicaps and
restrictions, the human geneticist has de-
termined the exact manner in which a

fairly large number of variable human
characters are inherited.

In recent years the human geneticist
has developed a new interest. He has
become interested in the distribution in
populations throughout the world of the
hereditary units or genes of the variable
characters whose inheritance he has es-
tablished. His goal is to know the dis-
tribution of all human genes in all popu-
lations — ^the distribution in all small
local communities, in all cities, in all
nations, in all races, in all primary
human stocks and eventually in the pop-
ulation of the entire world.

Perhaps it is appropriate at this point
to outline briefiy what is meant by the
distribution of human genes. To the
person who is familiar with the laws of
heredity this discussion wiU seem super-
fluous, but to the one who is not, it may
serve a purpose. Every human indi-
vidual develops from a fertilized egg or
zygote. In that zygote are present pairs
of hereditary units or genes for fdl of
man’s inherited variable characters.
There are pairs of genes present because
the sperm and the egg contribute each
one set. Just how many pairs of genes
exist in the hyman zygote is not known,
but the numter proltobly runs into the
thousands. A knowledge of the exact
number is not essential to our discussion.
All that needs to be appreciated is that
every inherited variable human character
is represented by one or more pairs of
genes. (Some characters may be af-
fected by several pairs and one pair may
affect several characters.) The members
of a given gene pair may vary in differ-

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ent individuals. For a given pair an
individual may possess two similar genes
or two different genes. For instance, if
the genes of a given pair are represent
by the symbols A and a, then an indi*
vidual may possess two A genes (AA),
two a genes (oa) or one of each kind
(Aa). It will be obvious that if a popu-
lation consisted of 100 individuals, 90 of
whom were of the AA type and 10 were
of the aa type, then the frequencies of
the A and a genes in that population
would be 90 per cent, and 10 per cent.,
respectively. Likewise, if a population
consisted of 50 individuals, 2 of whom
were of the Aa type and 48 were of the
aa type, then the frequencies of the A
and a genes in that population would be
2 per cent, and 98 per cent., respectively.
In the determination of the frequencies
of the genes of a variable human char-
acter it is not possible to count the genes
as such, but if the mode of inheritance
of the character is known, and if the fre-
quency of the character in a population
is determined, then it is possible to calcu-
late the frequency of the gene or genes
for that character in that population.

To date the distributions of only a
small number of human genes have been
studied and each of these in a very lim-
ited way. However, some of the studies
are very interesting and informative,
and it is with a few of these that I wish
primarily to deal in this article. First
I shall present. some of the data which
have been collected and then I shall at-
tempt to relate the observed distributions
to well-known evolutionary processes.

CoLOB Vision

One variable human character whose
mode of inheritance has been established
and whose gene distribution has been
studied to some extent is man’s color
vision. As every one knows, most per-
sons can distinguish all the colors of the
visible spectrum from violet to red.
They are said to possess normal color

vision. A few can not distjnguish be-
tween the red and green colon. They
are said to be red-green eblor-Uiind.

Color-blindness has probably been
present in the human species from time
immemorial, but its discovery dates
back only to the eighteenth or possibly
to the seventeenth century. At least to
my knowledge no record of its occur-
rence appears in the literature prior to
that time. In 1684 Dr. Tuberville re-
ported to the Boyal Sociely of London a
patient who could not distinguish colors.
There is some question whether this pa-
tient was red-green eolor-Uind or had
some other eye defect A more certain
case was reported in 1777 by Mr. Hud-
darts. In 1794 the English ehonist
Dalton announced his defective color
vision. His announcement created so
much discussion that red-green color-
blindness has frequently been referred
to as Daltonism. 'While I have no objec-
tion to a character of man being given
the name of a chemist the appdlation
seems inappropriate not only because it
is not descriptive of the anomaly but also
because Dalton was probably tmly par-
tially color-blind.

iWt red-green color-blindness has a
hereditary basis was realised soon after
its discovery. Its exact mode of in-
heritance, however, was not established
before 1910 or 1911. At that time it be-
came appreciated that red-green color-
blindness is inherited as a sex-linked
recessive character. By this is meant
that the gene for coIor-Mindneas (ob) is
carried in the X-<diromoaome and litat
this gene does not express itsdf except in
the absence of the gene for normal color
vision (Cb).

As early as the middle of the nine-
teenth eentuiy attempts were made to
estimate the frequency of red-green
color-blindness in various populations
throughout Europe and the United
States. Most of tiiese estimates were
inaccurate, due either to amaUneas Of

TAB msePSIBUTION

nniabw teited or to onreliable ways
of detorminjng ^ duuraeter. Oddly
enough, one estimate was made by a poet
and found its way into poetry. In 1878
the American poet Oliver Wendell
Holmes wrote inquiringly as follows :

Why ihovld we look one common faith to find,
Where one in every score is blindf
If here on earth they know not red from green,
Will they see better in things unseen f

Holmes’s estimate of one color-blind in
every twenty is nearly correct. It is es-
pecially so if we have in mind a typical
American population. In other popula-
tions, as I shall point out later, the fre-
quency may be considerably different.

An interesting feature of red-green
color-blindness is its greater rarity
among women than among men. For a
long time it was believed that this differ-
ence was due merely to a greater famili-
arity with colors on the part of women.
Ckilored yams were used for testing pur-
poses and it was thought that some color-
blind women recogniaed red and green
colors even though they did not see them
as such. We know now that this ex-
planation is not the correct one, and that
the real explanation lies in the manner
in which color-blindness is inherited.
According to theory, the frequency of
a sex-linked recessive character, among
the females of a population in whi(^
mating is at random, should be eqtul to
the square of the frequency of the char-
acter among the malM. Thus, if 10 per
cent. (1/10) of the males of a population
show a sex-linked recessive character,
then only 1 per cent. (1/100) of the fe-
males (tould show it.

In table I are given the percentage
frequencies of eolor-blindness among the
males and females of a number of popu-
lations from various regions of the world.
This Ust does not indude all the studies
whii^ have been made, but it does in-
duct most of the recent ones in which
Ishihara^ odor charts iMve been used
for dk^pnostio' purposes. It would be

OF HUMAN GENES 205

desirable to have this list extended. Par-
ticularly wdcome would be data from
Africa, Italy, India, Japan, Bussk and
England, and also firmn additional ra-
cially distinct populations in the Amer-
icas.

Table I also gives the percentage fr»>
quencies of the color-blind gene (ch)
and of the normal odor vision gme (Cb)
in the populations listed. These per-
centage frequencies are not given sepa-
rately, but they can be read directly
from the frequencies of the charaetOT
among the mdes. The frequen <7 of a
sex-linked recessive gene, in a population
mating at random, is the same as the
frequency of the character among the
males of that population. Thus, for in-
stance, if 10 per cent, of the males of a
population show a sex-linked recessive
character, then the frequency of the sex-
linked recessive gene for that character
is 10 per cent. It follows, of course, that
the frequency of the sex-linked dominant
gene for the opposing character is 90 per
cent.

Let us examine the percentage fre-
quencies given in Table I. It will be
seen that the frequency of color-blindness
among the males of Norwegian and Ger-
man populations is about 8 per cent.
This means that there are in these popu-
lations about 8 color-blind genes (oh)
for every 98 normal color vision genes
(Cb). Other studies indicate that tiiese
frequencies hold for most north Euro-
pean countries. As shown in Table I
they also hold for U. S. Caucasoids. A
somewhat lower incidence .is recorded fw
American Jews and American immi-
grant Spaniards when they are con-
sidered independent of other Ammrioeit
Caucasoids. Among U. S. Negroes the
color-blind gene (eb) is only about half
as common as it is among U. 8. Cauca-
koids; consequently, there are propor-
tionately only about half as many color-
blind Negroes in the United States as
there are Whites. Among Chinese the

206

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

TABUS I

FEBQUBNCir OF COLOBrBLINDNBBB AND OF TBB COLOE^BLIND GllfB (CB) XN VABIOUB POPUXiATIOiVB

Maloi FwhbIbb

Populatloxi

Inveatlgator

Number

teated

Percent

color-blind

Number

teated

Percent

color*blliid

Norweglana (Oslo)

9,040

•8.0

9,072

GermaiiB

2,000

8.0

3,000

•4

Caucaooida, U. S. (Unaelected) . .

790

8.4

232

1.3

CaucaBOids, U. S. (Unaelected) . .

1,2S6

8.2

• • • •

« •

Cancasoida, U. S. (Jewn)

200

4.0

176

0.0

Caucaaolda, U. S. (Spanlarda) . .

340

3.8

390

0.8

Mexicana (Old Mexico)

571

2.3

404

0.6

Mexicana (Immigranta, U. S.) . .

023

2.6

469

0.0

J^ea^cea, ICT. S« . ... ............

320

8.7

• ■ • •

4 4

Negroea (South U. S.)

038

3.9

496

0.8

Nep*oea (North U. S.)

204

2.8

166

0.0

Chlneae (Ohengtu)

K-B

1,116

6.3

• ■ • ■

• t

Uhineae (Peiping)

1,164

6.9

1,132

1.7

Indiana, U. S. .................

624

1.9

202

0.0

Indiana (varloua trlbea)

062

2.6

837

0.0

Indians ( Navajo )

030

1.1

466

0.7

Indiana (mixed blood)

480

0.2

623

0.8

*The percentage frequency of color-blindnesR among males is also the percentage frequency of the
color-blind gene eh In the population.

Ch m Chang, Cl « Clemenit G « Garth, K~B » Kilborn and Beh, M Miles, P » von Planta, and W »
Waaler.

color-blind gene has a fairly high inci-
dence. Its frequency is abotit midway
between those of U. S. Negroids and U. S.
Caucasoids. Among U. S. Indians its
incidence is the lowest found in any
group so far.

Probable explanations for the distri-
butions of the color vision genes and
those of other characters will be reviewed
later.

Abiuty to Taste

Another human character whose exact
mode of inheritance has been established
and whose gene distributions have been
studied to some extent is the inability to
taste the chemical phenyl thiocarbamide.
(We shall refer to this chemical as P.
T. C.) About ten years ^go a chemist
was preparing some P. T. C. in one of
America’s chemical laboratories. While
doing so some' of the chemical escaped
into the air and a co-worker complained
bitterly about its taste. This complaint
surprised the first chemist, because he
was not aware of any taste. In fact, he
could not taste the substance, even
though a considerable quantity of its
crystals was placed upon his tongue. To
decide who was the odd or peculiar indi-
vidual the two chemists called in several

other men to act as jurors. To the as-
tonishment of all present some could
taste the chemical while others could not.
To all those who could taste it, the taste
was bitter. The rest could taste nothing.

News of this striking difference among
human individuals reached human ge-
neticists. It aroused their interest, and
soon thousands of people were tested for
their ability to taste P. T. C. In a short
time it was discovered that about 70 per
cent, of American people are P. T. C.
‘‘tasters” and 30 per cent, are ‘‘non-
tasters.” These studies also revealed
that the inability to taste P. T. C. has a
familial incidence and that it is inherited
as an autosomal recessive. Matings be-
tween “non-taster” and “non-taster”
give only children who are “non-tast-
ers,” whereas matings between “tasters”
or between “non-taster” and “taster”
may give some children who are “tast-
ers” and some who are not.

In Table II are given the percentage
frequencies of “taster” and “non-tast-
er” groups in populations from various
regions of the world. The frequencies
for the “taste” gene (T) and for the
“non-taste” gene {t) are also given.
These gene frequencies have been oalcu-

THE DISTBIBUTION OP HUMAN GENES

207

lated directly from the ^^non-taster”
group. In a population in which mating
is at random the frequency of an auto-
somal recessive character should repre-
sent the square of the frequency of the
autosomal recessive gene. Thus, if the
frequency of the autosomal recessive
character is known, it is possible to cal-
culate the frequency of the autosomal
recessive gene by extracting the square
root of the frequency of the recessive
character. For example, if an auto-
somal recessive character has a frequency
of 25 per cent. (1/4) in a population
mating at random, then the frequency of
the recessive gene in that population is
50 per cent. (1/2).

It will be seen that the non-taste^’
gene (0 is about equally common in
Caucasoid and Negroid populations. At
least there is no striking difference be-
tween these two groups. Among Mongo-
loids it is somewhat rarer. Of interest
is the uniformity of the t gene frequen-
cies among all Mongoloids. Even the
full-blooded American Indians have
about the same non-taste^' gene fre-
quency as do Japanese and Chinese pop-
ulations.

Pitch op Voice

Here I should like to call attention to
a variable human character which has

not been studied extensively, but whose
inheritance and whose gene distributions
should prove of interest to many. Some
years ago it was discovered that the pitch
of the human voice is influenced by one
major pair of autosomal genes. Inter-
estingly enough, these genes express
themselves differently in the two sexes.
A man who is the possessor of the two
similar genes (V^V^) sings bass, while
a woman who is the possessor of the same
two genes sings soprano. In the table
which follows are given the voices result-
ing from the various gene combinations :

yhtJThB

Male Bass Baritone Tenor

Female Soprano Meezosoprano Alto

From the table above it will be obvious
that a marriage between a basso and a
soprano can give only children who sing
bass or soprano; and a marriage between
a tenor and an alto can give only chil-
dren who sing tenor or alto. Only a
baritone and a mezzosoprano can Hope
to produce a quartet.

Although the distributions of the bass-
soprano gene (V^) and of the tenor-alto
gene (V^) have not been studied exten-
sively, there is some evidence that the
former has a higher incidence in north-
ern Europe than it does in Italy and
other Mediterranean countries, and, con-

TABLE n

FaMUlNCT OF THB PBRNYl. TUIOOABBAMIDB ^'TaBTBB" AND '^ON-TANTBE^^ OUOVPB, AND OF THB

T AND t GBNBB in VAEIOUS POPULATIONS

Population

luyestigator

Number

tested

Group

percentages

Taster

Non-

taster

Gene

percentages
T t

Caucasoid, tJ. 8

Caucasoid. U. 8. ........

Southern ^Tew (Palestine)
Northern Jew (Palestine)
Semenites (Palestine) ...

Arabs (Sjna)

Egrptisns

Negroes. 0. 8. (Alabama)

Japanese

Cmnese '

Fonnosans (Aborigines)

Formosans (Chinese origin)

Indians F. B. (17. S.) ..........

IndluM M. B. (t). S.)

3.648

439

175

240

H-P

400

H-M

208

H-C

5.33

8.824

C-C

107

1,768

6.938

Id-A

188

n-A

110

C-G.CiMa aniKaMUti and Cunvb.ll, H-M-Hlekman and llarMa, R-P>HndMm and

Patar, Ind-Ltrln. and Andaraon, PoParr, B.RtUinara, B.Snrder, T-TUnorlteh.

Tersely, that the latter has a higher inci-
dence in southern Europe. As yet no
studies of the distribution of F** and F**
genes in the United States have been
made.

The A-B Blood Groups

Of all human characters which have
been proved to have a genetic basis, the
A-B human blood groups have been
studied the most, not only with respect
to their importance in blood transfu-
sions, but also with respect to the distri-
butions of the genes responsible for them.
These studies have literally run into the
hundreds. Many of them have not been
extensive, but when they have been care-
fully done, they have contributed some-
thing to our iteowledge of human gene
distributions.

Human bloods, as every one knows
from his acquaintance with blood trans-
fusions, fall into four major groups.
The names given to these four groups
are : AB, A, B and O. These names are
given on the basis of (1) the presence or
absence of one or boGi of two agglutin-
able substances (isoagglutinogens), A
and B, which are found in the red blood
cells, and (2) the presence or absence of
one or both of two agglutinating sub-
stances (isoagglutinins), a and b, whidi

are found in the Uood serum. Tlw re-
lationships of these sabstanees to tiie
groups are shown in the table whieh
follows :

Blood group Isoagglntinogen IioagglntiBla

AB A sad B Noae

A A .. b

B B a -

O None a and b

It will be noticed that if an isoagglnti-
nogen is present in the red blood cells of
an individual, then the corresponding
isoagglutinin is absent in the serum of
that individual. In blood transfusions
the important consideration is not to in-
troduce isoagglutinogens in the blood of
the donor which will be agglutinated by
isoagglutinins in the blood of the re-
cipient or host.

As was implied in an earlier statement,
the A-B blood groups have been shown
to have a hereditary basis. Further-
more, they have been shown to be in-
herited in accordance with a theory of
triple allelomorphs. By this is meant
that a given locus on a chromosome is
represented by three different genes
which can combine in all different ways
in groups of two. The three genes re-
sponsible for the four human blood
groups have been called the I^ the P and

TABLE m

FUDgnmcT or Buwd Qbodps AB, A, B ams O and or mm Bi<ooi> Oaoor 0mm. K I* aho 1

IM VABIOD0 POPDUTIONS

Pepolatloa

CaocMold, U. 8

Caoeawild, n. S

Oermant (ReldellMrg) .
flaman* In Hnnga<V • •
Hnnaariani

Hnnaanani

OjniMM (Hnnaarr) . . ,
Hlndua (N. India) ...
Naarom (Wcat Africa)

InFWtl-

•ator

Nambar

InvestlgEM

Group iMreentafEE

AB A B 0

Geno

porootttifEi
lA l»

20,000

' Be

8,000

600

V-W

476

V-W

386

H-H

1,000

326

600

24,672

I^W

1.000

L-0

200

100

00 1

463

M-L

394

236

N«itroe« (tr. B.) Rn S

^panew (On dlatrlet) ... F 24,6

ChlncM (Pdidns) L-W 1 ,

ChInMie (Hnnan) L-C 1,

Indiana F.B. (Pam) L

Indiana F. B. (U, S.) 8a

Indtana F, B. (BlaekfMt) , . M-L
Indiana M. B. (Blaekfeet) . . H 2S

. U-ron Dungwn, F-Fnnibata, H-H-L. and H. Hlnfald, L«Lamta, L-C>14 CMPan, L^-LjjrtS
and HcMcnmn, 1.-W- Un-Wang, Malfataon, M-L-iMataon, Levlnt and SdmSar, SaoBanSMd, Sfe«>
Snjrdar, V-W - Vemr and Wcicacakjr.

THE HISTBIBHTION OF HUHAK GENES

209

SABLB IV

VAEtOI SSOWIMQ TBl FBIQYJENCT OF CTB Bl<000 GBOUMI BCH, MN AND KN AND OF TBB BlOQO QsOUF

GNNIN AND A* IN YABIODB POPDLATIONB TONODOaOUT TBN WOBID

PopalatioD

InvMtl-

gator

Number

Investigated

Onmp peroeutagee
MM MN NN

Gene

percentages
A« A»

Cattcasolds, U. S

Nngllsh

Germans

Russians (Leningrad)

Hindus

Negroes, U. S

CHifnese

Japanese

Ainu

Rskimos (Bast Greenland)

Indians, U. S

Indians, F. B. (Pueblo)

Indians. F. B. (Blackfeet)

Indians, B1 B. (Blackfeet)

L-L

632

T-P

422

2,000

763

300

Iy~L

181

1,029

1,000

604

F-H

669

L*-*L

206

A-L

140

M-S

M~S

272

A~L «■ Allen>Larson, Bk « Blaurock, Bv « Blinov, 0 « Combined results, F-H <• Fabrldns-Hanson, H ■
Haschlmoto, K«>Kubo, L-L « Landsteiner and Levine, M-8 m Matson, Levine and Scbrader, B«BldeL
T«P « Taylor and Prior.

the i genes. The following table shows
the gene combination (or combinations)
responsible for each group :

Blood group Gone combination

AB Ul*

A Ul* or Ui

B /»r» or m

o a

As indicated in an earlier paragraph,
hundreds of studies on the frequency
of the human blood groups have been
made. It would be neither possible
nor appropriate to introduce all of them
here. A few have been chosen for rep-
resentative purposes. These are given
in Table III. In Table III are also given
the frequencies of the three blood group
genes. These gene frequencies have been
calculated from the observed group fr^
quencies. According to theory an esti-
mate of the frequency of the gene may
be obtained extracting the square root
of the sum of the frequencies of groups
B and 0, and subtracting this result
from 1. Lilmwise, an estimate of the
frequency of tiie 2* gene may be obtained
extracting the square root of the sum
of the frequencies of groups A and 0
and subtracting this result from 1. And
finally, an estimate of the frequency of
»’ gene may be obtained by subtract-
^ freon 1 the sum of the calciilated
frequencies of the and the P genes.

Among northern Europeans and IT. S.
Caucasoids the i gene has a frequency
of about 66 per cent. As a result nearly
half of the people of these populations
belong to group 0. The P gene on the
other hand is comparatively rare in these
populations and consequently the B
group and also the AB group are rare.
In southern and southeastern Europe
the P gene is more common and the P
gene is less common than the respective
genes are in northern Europe. Among
Negroids the i gene is apparently lightly
more common than it is among Cauca-
soids. The P gene frequency on the
other hand is relatively low. Among
Mongoloids the A-B blood group genes
are extremely variable in frequmicy.
Among Chinese and Japanese the P and
P gene frequencies are relatively high.
The P gene is particularly common in
comparison with its frequency awinnj
Caucasoids of northern Europe. How-
ever, it is not more common among t h e st
pop^ations than it is amcmg the Caucib-
soids of India. Among some TnHlan
tribes of the United States and of Peru
the P and P genes are nearly absent
In fact, it is believed by some t b a f.
they are completely absent among full-
blooded Indians of tihese tribes, Among
the Blackfeet Indians oi the U. S. North-
west, on the othnr hand, tlw P gene has

210

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

the highest frequency that haa been dis-
covered for any human population, be it
Mongoloid, Negroid or Caucasoid.

The M-N Blood Qboups

In addition to the four A-B blood
groups, and entirely independent of
them, human bloods fall into three other
classes. These are the MM, the MN and
the NN groups. The M-N groups differ
from the A-B series in that their ag-
glutinating substances (agglutinins) are
never normally present in human blood.
They must be induced in the tissues of
other animals.

The M-N blood groups are also in-
herited, but in a manner somewhat dif-
ferent from the A— B series. The three
M-N groups are dependent upon the
presence or absence of one or the other
of a pair of genes called the A** and the
A" genes. The table which follows shows
the gene combinations responsible for
the three groups :

Blood group Gone combination

MN A^A"

NN A»A»

Neither the A" nor the A“ gene is domi-
nant over the other. Matings between
individuals of group MM and of group
NN produce children all of whom belong
to group MN; and matings within the
MN group produce children i of whom
are expected to belong to group MM,
i to group MN, and i to group NN.

In Table IV are given the. M-N group
frequencies and the A** and A* gene fre-
quencies for a number of populations.
The A** and A" gene frequencies have
been calculated directly from the group
frequencies. Since neither the A** nor
the A” gene is dominant over the other
it is possible to obtain the gene frequency
of a population from the group fre-
quencies. In any population the A”
gene frequency equals the MM group
frequency plus i the MN group fre-

quency; and the A* gene frequency
equals the NN group frequ^ey plus \
the MN group frequency.

It will be evident from a study of
Table IV that the A* and the A* gene
frequencies are nearly the same for a
majority of all Caucasoid, Negroid and
Mongoloid populations. The peoples
showing Jlie greatest deviations from the
average are the Ainu and the Eskimos
of Greenland. The Ainu have a rda-
tively low A* and a relatively high A*
frequency, while the Greenland Eskimos
have a very high A" and a very low A"
frequency. The American Indians re-
semble the Eskimos of Greenland some-
what in having a relatively high A** and
a relatively low A" frequency. However,
the deviation from the average is not so
great ^or the Indians as it is for the
Eskimos. Since the Blackfeet Indians
have been shown to differ so strikingly
from other Indian tribes in their 1* and i
gene frequencies, it is an interesting fact
that they are very similar to other In-
dian tril^ in their A** and A” gene fre-
quencies.

Shape of Red Blood Cells

The distributions of the genes for sev-
eral other inherited human characters
could be reviewed, but only those of one
more will be mentioned, namely, those
for the shape of human red blood cells.
The red blood cells of certain human in-
dividuals become crescentic or sickle-
shaped when their blood is exposed out-
side of the body to certain special con-
ditions. Some individuals whose blood
shows these peculiar cells are anemic;
consequently, the character was origi-
nally called sidde-cell anemia. Anemia,
however, does not always accompany the
character; therefore, it seems more ap-
propriate to refer to the character
as sickle-shaped erythrocytes. Sickle-
shaped erythrocytes is of interest to
human genetioists because it has been
proved to have a hereditary basis, and

THE DISTBIBUTION OP HUMAN GENES

211

also because it has been found only
among Negroes.

According to the few genetic studies
which have been made, sickle-shaped
eiythrocytes is inherited as an auto-
somal dominant. The dominant gene
for sickle-shaped erythrocytes has been
called the 8i gene, and the recessive gene
for the opposing normal red blood cells
the si gene. Only a few estimates of the
frequency of sicMe-shaped erythrocytes
have been attempted, but ail these indi-
cate that about 7 per cent, of all Ameri-
can Negroes possess this character. If
this estimate is correct, then the Si
and the si genes have frequencies in the
American Negro population of about 4
per cent, and 96 per cent., respectively.
As far as I am aware, no studies have
been made of the incidence of sickle-
shaped erythrocytes in Africa. Such
studies woud be interesting and welcome.

Probable Explanations

Having reviewed in a somewhat sum-
mary fashion the observed distributions
of the genes of a few variable human
characters, I shall attempt to account
briefly for these distributions in terms
of well-known evolutionary factors. No
final answers can be given, but a few
probable explanations can be presented.

At the basis of all genetic variability
and consequently of all gene distribu-
tions is the factor of genetic change.
Without this factor operating there
would be no genes to be distributed.
Without it there would be no human
species^ not even lower forms as we know
them — ^probably no life at all.

Genetic changes are fundamentally of
two kinds ; Those which represent visible
changes in the larger units of the cell,
called the chromosomes, and those which
represent changes in the ultimate hered-
itary units or genes. The former are
known as chromosome mutations and the
latter as gene mutations. We shall be
concerned primarily with the latter, not

because the former have played no rdle
in the evolution of man (they probably
have played an exceedingly important
role), but because a discussion of them
appears to lie outside the scope of the
present article. We shall be concerned
only with the distribution of human
genes and not with the detailed story of
human evolution.

New gene mutations are fairly com-
mon. At least they are so among lower
forms. Any one working with the small
fruit-fly {Drosophila) for any length of
time will, if he is an acute observer,
sooner or later discover a new mutation.
Hundreds of them have been reported
and established for this form. Even
within the human species several new
mutations have been observed. A few
years ago a type of permanent hair cut
appeared as a new character in a Nor-
wegian family. The hair grows out a
few inches and then breaks off. Because
the hair is also extremely curly the
new mutation has been called “Woolly
Hair.” This character is inherited as
a Mendelian dominant. A number of
other specific illustrations of human mu-
tations could be cited, but suffice it to
say that mutations do occur in man and
not infrequently so. One estimate places
the rate of mutation of a particular hu-
man gene at one mutation for every 50,-
000 individuals per generation.

In accounting for the human gene dis-
tributions which have been observed I
shall ask three questions and then at-
tempt to answer each of them. The three
questions are: (1) How can the differ-
ferences, in the extent to which various
human gene mutations are distributed,
be explained! (2) How can the high or
low frequencies of the observed human
gene mutations be accounted fort (8)
How can the differences in the frequen-
cies of the same gene in different popu-
lations be explained!

The time at which a given gene muta-
tion occurs in the evolutionary history of

212

THIJ SCIENTiraO MONa?HJit

A species is an important factor in its very probable cue for Hm nniveesal die*
subsequent distribution. If it occurs be- tribution of most of the nmtathms edli^
fore a species has become separated into have been reviewed. Intermarriages Im-
numeorus distinct populations it has a tween different primary human stodn
better chance of becoming universally have not taken place to this extent in the
distributed than if it occurs later, for it remote or even in the recent past. How-
can be carried directly by all populations ever, it seems certain that this factor wiU
as they radiate out from the ancestral play a greater and greater r61e as time
stock. Regarding the human gene mu- passes. With modem methods of oom-
tations whose distributions have been munioalion and travd this can not be
reviewed, there is reason to believe that prevented. For instance, it seems oer-
most of them appeared early in the evo- tain that the sickle-shaped erythro<grte
lution of man. The only exception is gene (8i) will eventually filter into the
probably the 8i gene for sickle-shaped Caucasoid and Mongdoid stocks,
erythrocytes. Since this gene is found Another way in which a given kind of
oiUy among Negroes, it seems probable gene mutation may become universally
that it represents a mutation of rela- distributed, without appearing as a re-
tively recent origin. suit of a mutation in the common anoes-

Tbe best available evidence that some tral stock or as a result of intermarriages
of the observed human gene mutations between populations, is for the same
are of ancient origin is given by the A-B mutation to api>ear in all jrapulations.
blood group genes. According to sev- There is ample evidence from studies
eral investigators the Anthropoid apes with lower forms that this may occur,
possess A and B isoagglutinogens which Duplicate gene mutations have even bem
are serologically identical with those reported for man. For instance, the
found in man. Even all the four blood gene for normal blood clotting (H) has
groups found in man have been discov- been reported to mutate in different
ered for the Anthropoid apes. This fact populations to the gene for haemophilia
can only mean that these first cousins of (h). Some investigators are of the
man possess blood group genes identical opinion that the occurrence of duplicate
with or at least very similar to those gene mutation is the most probable ex-
present in man ; and it suggests strongly planation for the universal distributi<»i
that the mutation or mutations which are of the blood group genes among human
responsible for the blood group genes in populations and also for their common
both lines occurred early in the common occurrence among Anthropoid apes and
ancestral stock. There is even a sugges- man. While I admit this possibility* I
tion that these mutatioils may have oc- am inclined to believe that the ancestral
curred earlier in the evolutionary history mutation hypothesis is the more prob-
of mammals, because there' is some evi- able. I recognise, however, that s<mie of
dence that A-B blood groups exist below the blood group genes which are found
the primate branch. in both Anthropoid ape and human

A gene mutation need not necessarily populations may represent recent muta-
occur in the ancestral stock of a species tions.

in order for it to become universally dis- The secmid question which is to be
tributed. It is possible for it to be dis- answered concerns the hifl^ and low fre-
tributed as a result of migrations and qneneies of the different observed hunum
intermarriages. 'While this is a possible mutations. How are the hifl^ frequen-
explanation for the common occurrence cies of many of the observed gene nmta-
of a number of human genes, it is not a tions to be aeeounted fort li^y people

213

THE I)OTBIBTJ!rtON OE HUMAN GENES

Are of liie opinion that if a new charaeter
appears in a population and that if it
1 m a hereditary basis, tlM it will auto-
matieally persist and increase in fre-
quency. This is an unwarranted as-
sumption. Heredity in and of itself does
not insure persistence of a new mutation
nor does it by itself bring about an in-
crease in frequency of that mutation.
Such increases, if they do occur, are due
to other factors.

Among the more important factors
which may lead to a persistence and an
increase in the frequency of a new muta-
tion is Natural Selection. Oene muta-
tions are random or nearly random in
nature. They apparently bear no spe-
cific relationship with the environment
in which they occur. Since they are ran-
dom or at least nearly so it is not sur-
prising to find that most of them have a
negative survival value for the individ-
ual or the species in which they occur.
By negative survival value is meant that
they tend to produce individuals who
will not survive as readily or leave as
many offspring as the individuals who
diow the character of the original gene.
Obviously such mutations which have a
negative survival value will tend to be
eliminated from a population.

A fairiy large number of the muta-
tions which occur are said to be indiffer-
ent. By this is meant that they are
neither selected for nor against. Such
mutations should remain constant in
frequency so far as natural selection is
concerned but may disappear or increase
in frequency for reasons which will be
presented later. A few mutations have
a positive survival value. By this is
meant that the individuals who show the
mutations will tend to survive to a
greater extent than the individuals who
show the character of the original goie.
Naturally such gene mutations will tend
to increase in frequency in a population.
It does not foUow, however, that all of

will snrtfre.

Of the If^^an gme mntatums whose
distributions have been reviewed, only a
few seem to have a higher or lowef sur-
vival value than the genes from Vhieh
they mutated. These are the eolor-blind
gene (oh) and the sickle-shaped erytl(ro-‘
cyte gene (8i). It seems probable that
in a primitive society the color-blind
gene (eh) may have a slightly lower sur-
vival value than the gene for normal
color vision (Ch). This may account for
its relatively low incidence among full-
blooded Indians and among Negroes.
Their civilizations in which selection
might have operated against the eh gene
are more recent than those of the other
peoples whose gene frequencies have been
studied. It might seem to some persons
that in a modem society which employs
red and green “stop and go” signals,
selection would also operate against the
eh gene. The opposite is probably true.
Color-blind men are not allowed to drive
locomotives and other vehicles of traffic.
Fhirthermore, it has been a custom in the
past to exempt color-blind men from
active participation in wars and other
hazardous activities. Such cxempti<m
would naturally tend to increase the
frequency of the ch gene. Recent dis-
coveries may alter this trend. It has
been reported recently that eolor-blind
men can spot certain limbing objectives
from the air more readily than men with
normal color vision. If this should turn
out to be true, then there may be a
special demand for color-blind men in a
very hazardous occupation and the fre-
quency of the ch gene should then de-
crease.

The 8i gene appears to have a negative
survival value because anemia is fre-
quently associated with the sickle-shaped
erythrocyte condition. I must admit,
however, that I do not know to what ex-
tent this form of anemia leads to death
or to decreased reproductive capacity,
but it seems probable that it does to
smne extent.

214

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

There is one more of the introduced
variable human characters whose genes
may have a differential survival value.
This is the pitch of the human voice. It
seems probable that either the bass-
soprano gene (V^) or the tenor-alto gene
(F*®) may have a lower survival value
than the other, but in view of a possible
storm of protest, I shall not voice an
opinion against the one or the other.

A number of attempts have been made
to establish a differential survival value
for the blood group genes. But to date
no positive or negative survival value has
been found for any one of them. Like-
wise no differential survival value has
been discovered for the ability or inabil-
ity to taste the chemical phenyl thio-
carbamide.

If selection has not been responsible
for the high incidence of most of the
gene mutations whose distributions have
been reviewed, what factor hast Per-
haps the most important one has been
recurrent mutations. We have already
pointed out that the same mutation may
occur in different populations. Natur-
ally if this is true it may also recur in a
given population. If a certain mutation
recurs very often in a given population
it will increase in frequency in that pop-
ulation in the absence of selection. It
may even increase in the presence of a
low selection pressure. As far as I am
aware there is not much direct evidence
that the blood group genes or the taste
genes are mutating, but this is not sur-
prising in view of the fact that these
characters are not detected unless special
tests are used. Other mutations like
haemophilia are known to recur fairly
frequently. In fact, it was the gene for
normal clotting (H) which was esti-
mated to mutate to the haemophilia gene
(h) as often as once in every 50,000 indi-
viduals per generation.

Although recurrent mutations as a
factor have been given credit for many
of the observed high frequencies of

human gene mutations, it must be
pointed out that a gene may have an
effect which has a positive survival value
even though the character associated
with it does not. Many genes have mul-
tiple effects and their most important
effects are frequently not discovered.
Thus natural selection may frequently
be playing an unsuspected role.
Furthermore, it should be emphasized
that the positive survival value of a gene
need not be very great for a marked in-
crease in gene frequency if a long time
is allowed for selection to operate.

The third question which is to be an-
swered concerns differences in the fre-
quencies of a given gene in different
populations. For instance, what ex-
planation can be offered for the complete
absence of the P gene among Indians of
Peru and the high incidence of the same
gene among the Blackfeet Indians of the
U. S. Northwest! Perhaps the most
probable explanation for a number of
these differences is the matter of chance.
If an original large population has a
fairly high incidence of a given mutation
and if from that population a number
of small populations migrate to distant
regions, then there is the possibility,
merely as a result of chance, that one
group will carry away a high frequency
of the mutation and another a low one.
It seems probable that this is at least a
partial explanation for the blood group
frequency differences among Indians. It
probably also is the best explanation for
the high A®* and the low A** gene fre-
quencies of the Eskimos of eastern
Greenland.

If the group which migrates from the
original population is large or represen-
tative of the population as a whole, then
the gene frequencies in the new popula-
tion should resemble closely those of the
old or original one. Examples of this
are common. The similarity of the blood
group gene frequencies of the U. S. Ne*
groes and those of West Africa is a case

THE DISTBIBUTION OF HUMAN GENES

215

in point. Two other interesting illustra-
tions were brought to light some years
ago. In 1922 two investigators tested
the bloods of a colony of Germans who
were living in Hungary but who were not
intermarrying to any extent with the
surrounding Hungarians. When their
blood group frequencies were calculated
they were found to resemble more closely
the blood group frequencies of the Ger-
mans of Heidelberg, from where their
ancestors had migrated 200 years
earlier, than the frequencies of the sur-
rounding Hungarians. The same two
investigators tested the bloods of a colony
of gypsies, also living in Hungary with-
out intermarrying with the Hungarians.
When their blood group frequencies
were calculated they were found to re-
semble more closely those of the Hindus
of North India than those of the Hun-
garians. The interesting part of this
story is that when the history of these
gypsies was checked it was found that a
philologist had decided, on the basis of
their language, that the ancestors of this
particular gypsy colony had migrated
from North India 500 or more years
earlier.

Another possible explanation for gene
frequency differences in different popu-
lations is for the same gene to have dif-
ferent mutation rates in different popu-
lations. Such mutation rate differences
have been reported for genes among
lower forms, but there is no direct evi-
dence of such mutation rate differences
in man. It is true that one geneticist
has used this explanation to account for
the high gene frequency among the
Blackfeet Indians and the low frequency
of the same gene among other U. S.
Indian tribes. While I must admit this
explanation is a possible one, it does not
appear to me to be the most probable
one.

Of course, if a gene has a positive or

a negative survival value and if two
populations exist under different envi-
ronmental conditions, then selection
alone may be responsible for the fre-
quency differences. As was pointed out
in an earlier paragraph, this seems, a
probable explanation for some of the
observed frequency differences of the
color-blind gene.

Many more factors and combinations
of factors could be brought forth as pos-
sible and even as probable explanations
for some of the observed gene distribu-
tions, but with only a limited amount of
data collected such detailed discussion
seems too speculative at the present time.

The Value of Human Gemb
Distribution Studies

Undoubtedly the greatest value of
human distribution studies will be to a
clarification of human racial interrela-
tionships and to an understanding of
human evolution in general. However,
human distribution studies may also
have some practical value. It would
seem that they may be of some value in
the formulation of medical and other
social programs. There appears to be
some value in knowing the percentage of
children who will be born each year with
haemophilia, with sictde-shaped erythro-
cytes, with color-blindness or with any
other of the definitely inherited human
anomalies. All in all, the study of
human gene distributions promises to be
one of the most fruitful avenues of re-
search which has been opened up in the
field of human biology within recent
years. It is a tremendous project which
requires and deserves the joint coopera-
tion of the human geneticist, the physi-
cian, the anthropologist, the human
ecologist and any other person who is
interested in the story and the welfare
of the most interesting of all animals,
man.

THE NORMAL BURNING OF GASEOUS

EXPLOSIVE MIXTURES

I. Explosions at Constant Pressure and at Constant Volume

By Dr. ERNEST P. FZOCK

FHTSICIST, MATIOMAI. BUXBAU OP BTAIDDAXOB

Introduction

HiSTmuoAii

In a recent reference book called
Combustion Flames and Explosions of
Gases” Lewis and von Elbe^ make the
following logical subdivisions in the field
of combustion research; (1) the kinetics
of reactions in the gas phase, usually
involving studies of reactions which take
place simultaneously throughout all the
gas mixture, (2) the passage of fiame
progressively through the gas mixture,
with consequent existence of a surface
or region of demarcation between the
burned and unbumed gases, and (3) the
state of the burned gas.

Since the scope of the present report
must be limited, and sinoe the experience
of the author has been in the field involv-
ing progressive fiames, the discussion
will be confined, for the most part, to
the second of the three phases mentioned
above. Further limitation is made by
including only explosions involving nor-
mal burning, that is, burning in the ab-
sence of detonation, except in the case
of combustion in the engine cylinder
where detonation or knock has been the
principal subject of investigation.

It may not be amiss to begin with a
brief historical background, recalling tiie
principal elements of the foundation
upon which recent studies of the com-
bustion process are based. The follow-
ing section is a digest of a detailed pres-'
entation made by Bone and Townend.*

^B. Lewis and Q. Ton Elbe, “Combustion
Flames and Explosions of Gases,” London;
Cambridge University Press, 1088.

* tv. A, Bone and I). T. A. Townend, “Flame
and Combustion in Gases, London. Longmans,
Green and Company, 1927.

Judging by modem standards, it ap-
pears that ^e earliest truly- scientific
studies of fiame and combustion were
made by Robert Boyle and his pupils
about 1630, more than one hundred
years before the discovery of oxygen. In
1665 Robert Hooke, one of Boyle’s
pupils, published a treatise showing that
heating certain combustible materials
either in air or mixed with niter pro-
duced a “shiny transient body which we
call flame, which is nothing but a mix-
ture of air and volatile constituents of
combustible bodies acting upon each
other as they ascend.” Nine years later
John Mayow, also a pupil of Boyle,
advanced the theory that two things
are necessary for combustion, name^
flammable particles and aerial particles,
which are so hostile that they enter into
sharp conflict when suitably brought to-
gether, whereby they are thro'wn into
violent motions resulting in the appear-
ance of fire.

In retrospect it 'would seem that, had
it not been for his death at the age of
thirly-six, such a brilliant experimenter
as Mayow would surely have eome to
recognise that the aerial particles whidi
he postulated were a part, but not all,
of the air, and that combustion was not
an interplay but the actual eoinbining
of the two kinds of particles. Unfor-
tunately no one appeared, either among
his contemporaries or immediate sucees-
sors, to reflect his teachings, and another
-view of combustion known as the Phlo-
giston Theory became promineat until
the middle of the eighteenth oentiny.

216

0ASEO17S EXPLOSIVE MIXTtTBES 217

This alohemistie notion that GombnB-
tiblo subatanoes contained the ponder-
able principle phlogiston, which, on
rapid escape, caused the appearance of
fire, was doomed by the discovery of
various pure gases. In 1775 Black dis-
covered COi and showed that it was
present in small amounts in the air.
Between 1767 and 1777 Priestly and
Scheele discovered several new gases,
each having properties different from
air, and laid the foundation for modem
gas chemistry, incidentally providing
Lavoisier with material to disprove the
Phlogiston Theory, and enabling him to
substitute therefor the oxygen theory of
combustion which has since been amply
verified.

In the first decade of the nineteenth
century John Dalton made two contribu-
tions of importance in the field of com-
bustion, namely the atomic theory and
the discovery that explosions of certain
mixtures of methane and ethylene with
oxygen produced carbon monoxide and
hydrogen rather than carbon dioxide and
water. This latter observation seems to
have been overlooked for the ensuing
eighly years during which theories in-
volving the preferential oxidation of
hydrogen in hydrocarbons flourished.

In the second decade of the nineteenth
century Sir Humphry Davy found that
there are certain fairly definite limits of
explosibility for each flammable gas
when mixed with air or oxygen, and
that tile stimulus required to pi^uce
ignition varied in intensity from mixture
to mixture. A great many similar de-
terminations of the limits of flammabil-
ty and of so-called ignition temperatures
have since been made.

Since Davy had deduced that a certain
temperature was required to ignite a
specific explodve mixture, it was logical
to assume that a continuous transfer of
heat to the unbumed gas ahead of the
fia^e was es^tial to its propagation.
Thus, whou eiklnnited with the problem

of accidental explosions in mines, he
saw the desirability of interposing be-
tween the most probable source of igni-
tion and the bulk of the gas m the mine
some material which would effectively
reduce the quantity of heat flowing from
the burned to the unbumed gas, and
thus extinglish the flame near the source
of ignition. He found experimentally
that small tubes, particularly if they
were good thermal conductors, did
actually accomplish this purpose in mix-
tures obtained from mines. From small
tubes to wire gauze was a logical step,
and the Davy Safety Lamp resulted.
This invention, which in his own words
consisted “in covering or surrounding
the flame of a lamp or candle by a wire
sieve,” is one of the first important
practical results of combustion research.

Davy’s subsequent work included the
first recorded studies of the temperatures
of flames and of catalytic combustion,
both of which are still very live subjects
of investigation.

The period from 1836 to 1880 has
been frequently called the Bunsen era
because it was so completely dominated
by the influence of this great chemist
and his pupils.

Among the more important contribu-
tions of Bunsen are the perfection of
methods for quantitative analysis of
gases, the application of such methods
to mixtures of gases in the blast fumaee,
which resulted in one of the greatest
advances in scientific metallurgy, and
the development of the gas burner which
still bears his name. Some of his other
reports contained the first recorded mea-
surements of flame speeds and of maxi-
mum pressures developed during ex^o-
sions in closed containers, with the flame
temperatures calculated ther^rom. All
of these measurements have been re-
peated at subsequent intervals as im-
proved methods were devised and as new
sources of error wwe revealed.

As is alwi^ the ease during a period

218

THE SOIENTIPIO MONTHLY

of rapid advance, tiiere appeared dur-
ing the Bunsen era a number of theories
which later had to be discarded. Most
conspicuous were those which postulated
the preferential combustion of hydrogen
and which led to the conclusion that the
law of mass action did not apply to
gaseous explosions. Many investigators
were misled because they were not aware
of the possible effects of water vapor and
of catalytic reactions, of which the latter
may be a function of the particular
apparatus. Unfortunately, these same
pitfalls are not always avoided even
to-day.

However the studies of explosions
themselves, together with important
contributions in related fields, such as
Deville’s investigations of thermal dis-
sociation and accurate determinations of
heats of combustion by Berthelot, Julius
Thomsen and others make the Bunsen
era stand out as the period during which
was laid the real foundation for modern
theories and endeavors in the field of
combustion.

Definition and Discussion of Terms

Before proceeding further it may be
well to pause for a brief discussion and,
where possible, a definition of some of
the terms which will be used most fre-
quently in what is to follow. A number
of these terms may be defined specifi-
cally, while many others do not seem to
have universally accepted meanings. So
far as is known the following definitions
are comparatively free from serious ob-
jection.

1. Flame is gas rendered luminous by combus-
tion or heating.

2. The flame front is the boundary surface^
between the luminous region and the dark region
of unburned gas.

8. The reaction gone is the region of in-
homogeneity in which homogeneous unbumed
charge is transformed into combustion products
in chemical equilibrium.

4. The epatial velocity of the flame is the
velocity with which the flame front moves in a

direction normal to ite surface, relative to a
flxed point in the explosion vessel.

5. Tlie traneformation velocity is the velocity
at which the flame front advances into the un-
burned charge in a direction normal to its sur-
face, that is, the linear velocity with which the
unbumed charge is transform^ chemically.

6. The gae velocity is the velocity with which
the flame front is transported bodily in a di-
rection normal to its surface by mass motion
of the gases into which it is advancing.

7. The Expansion ratio is the ratio of the
volume of the same mass of gas before and
after explosion at constant pressure.

Numerous other terms such as the
limits of flammability, flame temperature
and ignition temperature, the latter
often further described by prefixing the
words self, auto or spontaneous, are fre-
quently used in connection with certain
burning characteristics. Most of these
characteristics have real practical im-
portance, and specific definition of the
terms used to describe them would be of
great value. Unfortunately this has not
been possible because the numerical
values which have been determined are
not as yet entirely independent of
the apparatus in which the measure-
ments were made, and arbitrary experi-
mental methods have not been generally
adopted.

The Modern Period

In a review of that phase of combus-
tion research which was selected for this
report it is convenient to consider the
advances of the last sixty years without
further regard for chronology. Instead,
some additional subdivisions of the field
will be made and each will be treated
separately. As a first step, a distinction
may be drawn between the cases in which
the flame is stationary and those in which
it is in motion, as is usual during explo-
sions.

Stationary Flames

The two general classes of stationary
flames are the diffusion flame, in which
the mixing of the fuel and oxygen takes
place in the flame itself, and the Bunsen-

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTUBES

219

type flame, in which the mixing haa been
accomplished before the mixture enters
the flame.

Diffusion flames. Common examples
of this type are flames from a burning
candle, oil lamp, wood or coal. As the
name implies, the characteristics of the
diffusion flame are largely dependent
upon the rate at which the mixing of
fuel and air is accomplished in the neigh-
borhood of the flame. The inter-diffu-
sion of the vaporized combustible and
the oxygen to form an explosive mixture
is so much slower than the rate of the
reaction that the latter is of only secon-
dary importance. Therefore diffusion
flames, despite their wide variety of
practical applications, are not promising
subjects for the study of the combustion
process.

Burke and Schumann’ evolved equa-
tions which are in fair agreement with
the observed facts for diffusion flames
obtained by passing gaseous fuel and air
separately, and at the same linear veloc-
ity, through coaxial tubes. By these
equations the effects of such factors as
gas velocity, nature of the fuel and mix-
ture ratio, upon the size of the flame,
may be calculated. However, they in-
volve coefficients of diffusion under the
somewhat uncertain conditions prevail-
ing close to the flame.

Bunsen~type flames. In the Bunsen
burner, in most domestic gas appliances,
and in various welding torches the fuel
and air are proportioned and mixed be-
fore reaching the opening or port of the
burner. Such devices are designed to
bum the unconflned mixture with a
flame which has more or less stability in
the Burrotmding atmosphere. Stability
is achieved by adequate control of the
proportion of fuel to oxygen and of the
rate at which the mixture issues from
the burner port

The velocity’ of flow through the port

*8. P. Bnrkfl sad T. S. 'W. Seh nm a aw ,
fsdsit, esd Xnyi nu rimg Ckem,, SO: 008-1004,
1088.

(Sm) must exceed the transformation
velocity (St) to prevent the travel of the
flame ba(& trough the port and into the
mixing chamber, an occurrence com-
monly known as flash back. The mix-
ture velocity may be several times the
flame velocity, but above a certain ratio
the flame is blown off the port. Thus the
characteristics of the Bunsen flame of
any mixture are largely dependent upon
the rate at which it is transformed by
flame, and studies of such flames may
sdeld values of transformation velocity.

Some of the necessary concepts may
be introduced by considering a hypo-
thetical case in which it is assumed that
a homogeneous explosive mixture flows
without turbulence through a burner
tube whose walls offer no resistance to
gas flow and neither absorb nor conduct
heat.

If, in such an ideal burner, the mix-
ture velocity Sm is sufficiently greater
than the transformation velocity St, a
flame of the familiar Bunsen type with
its inner cone and outer mantle may be
established above the burner port, as
sho'wn diagrammatically in Fig. 1 (a).
Upon decreasing the mixture velocity
the height of both cone and mantle
would also decrease until Anally the cone
approached a plane surface, which
would then move down the tube as such.
For a single value of Sm the flat flame
could be held stationary, with a snutH
mantle persisting at the burner port, as
illustrated in Fig. 1 (b). At such a
steady state the mixture velocily Sa
would be identical with the gas velocity,
Sa, as defined, and these velocities would
be equal in magnitude but opposite in
direction to the transformation veloc-
ity S*.

Thus, in the hypothetical case, only
the measurement of the linear rate of
flow of the unbumed mixture through
the frictionless tube is needed to estab-
lish the value of transformation velocity.
However, in an actual tube the gas
velocity is not uniform, but varies from

2S0

THE SCIBNTmO MONTHLY

praetieallj wro at the waUe to a maid*
mum at the center, so that a plane flame
can not be obtained by reducing the rate
of flow. Further irregularities in the
shape and position of ^e inner part of
the fli^me also arise from heating the
walls. Both of these difficulties can be
overcome to a considerable extent if the
inner cone is allowed to rest on the port
of a burner, through the tube of which
the gas flow is laminar, provided that
proper account is taken of the shape of
the actual cone.

Bunsen* made the first recorded mea-
surements of the speed of flame by grad-
ually decreasing the measured velocity
of an explosive mixture through an ori-
fice to such a value that the flame just
flashed back. Modifications of this
method have been used by many inves-
tigators ever since.

The flash-back method of Bunsen was
not accurate because of the variation in
gas velocity over the area of the port.
Later Oouy* attempted to determine the
product of the gas velocity and the sine
of the angle between the side and axis
of the cone, but found that the actual
cone of flame departed so much from a
geometric cone that there was no single,
definite angle to measure. It was a logi-
cal step to consider that the speed of
flame could be found by dividing the
volume rate of flow through the port by
the area of the cone of flame. Subse-
quent measurements showed that results
obtained by this method involved uncer-
tainties which could be largely elimi-
nated by taking proper account of the
velocity distribution over the area of the
port.

Stevens* calculated transformation ve-
locities from measured values of gas
velocity and photographs of the flame

^ W. A. Bono nnd B. T. A. Townondi op*
eit,, p. 39.

A M. Gouj, Annalei de Chemie et d$ Phytigvs,
18: 27, 1879.

W. Stevens, Technical Seport No. SOSf
Nat, Advisory Conunlttee for Aeronauties, 1929*

cone, upon each of wliidi he constraeted
a geometric cone having the diameter
of the burner port as a base and having
sides parallel to the flame surface at that
point where the vdocily of the gas mix-
ture was equal to the mean velocity over
the area of the port. His results with
this procedure were in substantial agree-
ment with those obtained by an indepen-
dent method.

Smith and Pickering^ modified Stev-
en’s treatment of the flame photographs
by measuring directly the angle between
the surface and the axis of the cone of
flame at the points of average velocity;
that is, at 0.7 the distance from the axis
of the port. In a later report. Smith*
makes the following statements concern-
ing the determination of transformation
velocities by the burner method :

1. The numerical teault ia independent of the
velocity of flow of the mixture, ao long as the
flow ia laminar.

2. The result dependa upon the aiae of the
port, especially if ^ area of the flame is used
in the computations.

3. Result* baaed on appropriate meaaon*
ments of angle appear to be a more raUaUe
index of flame speed than those based on area.

4. Maximum speed mixtures give minimum
errors and are least objectionable for compari*
sons between fuel gases.

5. Although burner methods of measuring
flame ^eed are relatively simple and the results
directly applicable to a multitude of burner
problems, the fleld of uaefulnesB of the method
appears at present to be eonrideraUy restrieted.

Lewis and von Elbe,* in summarizing
the possibilities and limitations of the
burner method for determining transfor-
mation velocity, express th«r impres-
sion that not all of these have been thor-
oughly explored as yet In addition to
values of transformation vdocity, Bun-
sen-type flames have been used in obtain-
ing information concerning both the

1 1*. A. Smith and 8. F. Picksrlng, •Tow. of
Researoh of Nat. Swtam of Stamdairdo, 17:
7-43, 1086.

*F. A. Smith, Chest. Xeviews, 81: 880-418,
1087.

• B. Lewis sad Q. voa lllbs, op, ott., p. 80S.

OASSIOUB BXFLOSZVl! MIXTITBES 221

eoi»p<Mdti<m td the interoimal gases and
tiie tonperatares -whioh are attained
upon burning various combustible miz>
tures.

The methods' of spectroscopy have
been successfully applied in the mea-
surements of the temperatures attained
in both Bunsen-type^" and explosion
flames.^* Light from an electrically
heated filament or strip is passed through
the fiame, colored by a trace of a salt
of an alkali metal, usually sodium, and
the combined radiation from lamp and
fiame is observed 'with a spectroscope.
At filament temperatures below that of
the fiame the sodium spectrum shows the
bright lines of emission. Upon increas-
ing the filament temperature beyond that
of the fiame, the sodium lines become
dark lines of absorption. The tempera-
ture of the filament at which the change
from emission to absorption takes place
is the temperature of the flame gas
through which the external light is
passed. It is thus logical to call this
method of measuring the temperature of
the inflamed gases the spectral line re-
versal method.

By its use much information has been
obtained on the temperature gradients
existing throughout the volumes of vari-
ous flames, and more on the highest tem-
peratures which are produced with dif-
ferent fuels, together with the effects of
mixture ratio and rate of heat produc-
tion upon these maximum temperatures.

Bxfuwiom Flshes

For the purposes of this discussion,
explosion flames, as distinguished from
stationary flames, include all those which
spread throughout the available explo-
sive mixture from a source of ignition.
With the exertion of a few cases in
which it is only necessary to decide
whether or not there has been an explo-
sion, the great majority of investigations

(Sap 19.

u O. it sad L. WIOitow, goo.

4l«fotMfk)o Mnginam Jcmr., SO: 18S-18S, 1SS5.

involving explosion flames have required
means for measuring the time rate of
displacement of the flame from the point
of ignition.

The most 'widely used, as well as the
most useful method for determining
spatial velocity is by direct photc^rraphy
on a film moving at a known speed.
Such a picture not only serves as an
accurate time-displacement record of the
flame front, but also provides for a
'visual study of the whole flame move-
ment. This method is generally used
except in cases where insufficient light is
emitted during the burning and where
the introduction of a window through
which the fiame may be photographed
is not practicable.

For flames of relatively low actinic
light, the shadow and schlieren methods
of photography^* are available. Both of
these utilize the effect of the sharp differ-
ence in optical properties existing at the
flame front upon light from an external
source. The schlieren method has the
additional advantage that it indicates
the progress of the pressure waves
through both the unbumed and burned
gases.

If it is not feasible to use a transparent
window in an explosion chamber, ioniza-
tion gaps which break down**'*"'“ or
small wires which fuse** when reached
the flame may be employed. These meth-
ods are not appropriate when the flame
front suffers irregular changes in ve-
locity between the gaps or 'wires, but
have been used in engine cylinders and
in measuring the very high speeds of
detonation in long, metal tubes.

In all explosions originating at a point

uB. Lewis and O. von ISbe, op. ott., jfp,
149-lSS.

Its. Sehnauffer, Boo. Automotive Xupiiteere
Jour,, 84: 17-S4, 1984.

Babessana and 8. Kalmar, Automattve
Induitriet, 78; 884r-889, 884-857 and S94-S97,
1988; ibid., 81: 684-648 and 688-689, 19M>.

r*W. A. Mason and K. M. Brown, Awto-
motive Znduetriee, 78 : 688-684, 1986.

MW. A. Bono and B. T. A. Townsad, of.
ett^ p. 109.

222

THE SOIBNTIFIO MONTHLY

of ignition, the burned and the unbumed
gas are separated by the flame front.
Bach elementary layer of unbumed gas
which is transformed by the flame under-
goes physical and chemical changes
which always result in a net increase in
pres£(ure or volume. Stated in other
terms, regardless of whether there is a
gain or loss in the total number of gas
molecules, the rise in temperature upon
burning is always sufficient to produce a
net expansion. This expansion afUects
both the burned and unburned portions
of the charge in proportion to their rela-
tive volumes. Obviously that expansion
which takes place within the flame front
must produce an increase in the velocity
of the flame front in space by virtue of
the outward motion imparted to the
unburned gas just ahead of the flame.

Thus the movement of the flame may
be likened to that of an airplane flying
with a wind, the “wind’* during an ex-
plosion resulting from the expansion
upon burning. The speed of flame in
space, like the ground speed of the plane,
is the resultant of the speed in quiescent
gas, or the transformation velocity, and
the “wind” velocity, or speed with
which the “wind” transports it bodily
forward.

If a quiescent, homogeneous explosive
mixture is ignited at a point, the flame
begins to spread as a sphere with its
center at the point of ignition.^' It
grows in diameter, maintaining the
spherical shape, as long as the outward
movement of the unbumed gas is purely
radial. The spherical shape can persist
throughout the entire combustion only if
the explosion vessel is a sphere with cen-
tral ignition. For all containers in
which some parts of the wall are nearer
the flame front than others, the motioli
of the unbumed gas will, at some stage
of the burning, begin to vary from
radial, and subsequently depart there-
from at an increasing rate.

Lewi* and 0. von Elbe, op, ett., vp,
140-147.

Thus it is fairly obvious that the
direction in which the unbumed gas
will move ahead of the flame front, and
consequently the shape of the flame f itmt
itself, must be a function of the shape of
the vessel. Ellis^* has taken a number
of beautiful successive snapshots of
flame during explosions in vessels of
various sorts. These furnish visible
proof of the principle that the flame
front always tends to assume the same
shape as the container.

Most photographic records of the
initial stages of explosions show that,
for a brief interval following the passage
of the igniting spark, the flame front has
a positive acceleration in space, which
results in a curvature of the flame traces
on a fllm which was moved at a constant
speed. The diagram on the right of Fig.
2 shows this early period of flame travel
on a magnifled scale.

The straight portion of the flame trace
SF may be extended imtil it intersects
at point A the axis SD, drawn through
the spark S. The time interval SA is
the increase in the duration of the ex-
plosion caused by the initial slow move-
ment of the flame and will be termed
briefly the “delay.”

The curve of Fig. 2 shows that the
delay increases greatly as the concentra-
tion of water vapor is reduced in equiva-
lent mixtures of carbon monoxide and
oxygen, initially at atmospheric pres-
sure. Reducing the pressure at constant
water-vapor concentration also increased
the delay markedly, but quantitative
measurements are difficult because of the
decrease in the actinie light emitted by
the explosions.

The real signiflcance of the delay is
not fully understood. The low initial
speeds of flame in q>ace appear to result
chiefly from subnormal values of expan-
sion ratio or transformation velocity, or
both, which in turn appear to be asso-

1*0. 0. d* 0. Ellis sad W. A. Sbkby,
''Flame,” London: Methven and Oonmany,
1986.

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTUBBS

223

oiated with the establishment of an
equilibrium depth and structure of the
reaction zone. The flame front must
travel a distance at least as great as the
depth of the reaction zone before an
equilibrium structure can be established.

Pending the development of a satis-
factory method for measuring either ex-
pansion ratio or transformation velocity
in the very early stages of the burning,
the causes of the delay period can not be
fully demonstrated.

Explosions in soap bubbles. One of
the simplest methods yet devised for de-
termining transformation velocity is the
soap-bubble or constant-pressure method
developed by Stevens.'® He filled soap
bubbles with explosive mixtures, fired
them with sparks at their centers, and
photographed the resulting explosions.

High speed motion pictures of a bub-
ble explosion*® show that the spark pro-
duces a tiny sphere of flame which grows
steadily in size, maintaining its spherical
form, until all the mixture is inflamed.
The soap film breaks and collapses down-
ward before the burning is complete, so
that the explosion runs its course at the
essentially constant pressure of the at-
mosphere surrounding the bubble.

For analytical purposes the explosion
in the bubble was photographed through
a narrow slit which left its horizontal
diameter visible. The film was carried
on a drum rotating at a known, constant
speed about an axis parallel to the slit.
As the diameter of the flame increased,
its lengthening image moved along the
film and produced a V-shaped trace
which constitutes a time-displacement
record of the flame front, a typical
example of which is shown in Fig* 3.

For most mixtures the sides of the V
are practically straight, showing that
the flame front travels at constant speed.
This speed in space, St, can be calculated
from the angle, a of the V, the known

IS F. W. Stareiui, Tschnieal Meport No. 176,
Nat# Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, 1928.

90 B# Lewis and C. von Blbe, op. eit., p. 147.

speed, F, of the film, and the ratio, m,
of an actual distance to the correspond-
ing distance on the film, through the re-
lation

8«=:mF tan (1)

The maximum diameter attained by
the sphere of hot gases may also be ob-
tained from the film. The ratio of this
final volume of the burned products to
that of the original bubble is the expan-
sion ratio, E, for the mixture when
burned at constant pressure. If r is the
radius of the bubble before firing and B
is the final radius of the burned gas, as
measured on the film, then

The transformation velocity, St, is

merely the quotient as could be

Jii

shown if space permitted.

A careful investigation of the possi-
bilities and limitations of the soap-
bubble method^^ led to a number of
refinements in the apparatus and proce-
dure which improved the accuracy of
the results considerably. Values of
transformation velocity and expansion
ratio were measured for various mix-
tures of CO and Oa, and for these mix-
tures diluted with argon and helium.**

The results show that the maximum
value of transformation velocity occurs
slightly on the rich side of chemical
equivalence, but that values of E change
very little in the neighborhood of
equivalence. Argon and helium have
practically the same effect on expansion
ratio, but a given volume of helium pro-
duces less decrease in flame speed than a
like volume of argon. The charaoteiis-
ticB of the inert gases upon which these
effects depend have not yet been defi-
nitely identified.

MS. y. Floek and 0. H. Boeder, ItohiMotA
S.port No, SSe, Nat. Adrleory Oonunittee for
Aeronautiee, 1085.

MB. y. yioek and 0. H. Boeder, TetSmMl
Beport No. 8B8, Nat. Adrieoty Oonunittee for
Aeronautiea, 1080.

224

THB SOIENTIFIO MONTHLY

The prineipal advantage of the babble
method ia its simplicity, since no mea*
sarement of a rapidly ohimging pressure
is involved. Its usefulness is, however,
very limited in scope, since no fuel which
is Mluble in the soap solution can be
employed and since control of the con-
centration of water vapor in the explo-
sive mixture is restricted by the presence
of water in the soap film. Because of
the nature of the soap film, variations in
initial temperature and pressure are also
not practicable.

It should be further observed that the
measured values of expansion ratio are
for the entire burning process, and must
necessarily include not only that expan-
sion which takes place in the flame front,
but also any which ■ may occur subse-
quently within the burned gas. Theo-
retical values of expansion ratio may be
calculated from the known thermal prop-
erties and equilibrium data on the mix-
tures which have been studied by the
soap-bubble method, if it is assumed that
chemical equilibrium has been estab-
lished in the sphere of hot gases having
the maximum diameter. Such calcu-
lated values are in essential agreement**
with the observations.

ExplosiofU in tubes with large surface
to volume ratio. The literature records a
great many observations of spatial veloc-
ity made by firing explosive mixtures in
tubes whose lengti^ were great compared
to their diameters. To illustrate some
of these results, the series, of photographs
shown in Fig. 4 was taken, using equiva-
lent mixtures of CO and Og containing
2.7 per cent, of H|0 vapor in a glass
tube approjcimately 1 inch in diameter
and 20 inches long. In each case the
tube was vertical and the lower end was
closed. For pictures A, B, C and D, the
upper end was also closed. For pictures
E and F the upper end was open^ to the
surrounding atmosphere just prior to
ignition, which took place at the lower

** B. Lewis and G. von Elbe, op, oU., pp.
321 *-^ 26 .

or closed end in B and at the appear
opm end in F. As indicated by tiie
dashed time records (1056 dashes per
second) the film speeds were the same for
the first five pictures, but only i as fast
for picture F. The first glance at Fig. 4
shows that one of the principal difficnl*
ties encountered in the study of explo-
sions in tubes is the vibratory character
of thcrflame motion.

In all of the flame records shown, the
speed of the flame is low compared to
the velocity of sound, so that the pres-
sure gradients which can exist are local
in character and comparatively gtwnll.
The effects of changes in temperature
and total pressure upon transformation
velocity are likewise small until long
after the vibration has begun. There-
fore the only factor which can decelerate
the flame in space is a reduction in the
velocity of the unbumed gas awiy from
the point of ignition. It is believed that,
for the closed tube, such a reduction in
gas velocity, and in picture A even a
complete reversal in the direction of
motion, may have been produced in the
following manner.

Prior to the start of vibration, the
expanding flame initiates a pressore
wave which outdistances the flame front
because it moves through the unbumed
gas with the velocity of sound. This
pressure wave is reflected back from the
upper end of the tube and returns to
meet the flame. As soon as this pressure
front enters the burned gss its velocity
undergoes a sudden large increase, sinoe
the density of the hot gas is about ^
that of the unbumed gas. This rapid
increase probably accentuates the rarity
of the following stratum. Into this
rarifled stratum, the unbumed gas ahead
of the flame will expand and thus ao-
quire a backward component whi<^
either retards or reverses the movement
of the flame front, and the first wave
appears in the flame trace.

The amplitude of a given irregularity
in the flame trace would thus appear to

a I ' •

GASEOTTS EXPLOSIVE MlXTXrBES

225

depend primarily upon the difference in
the Tdodty of aoond in the burned and
unbumed gaa, which in turn is a func>
tkm of the difference in density.

Ck>nsider now the effects of initial
pressure upon the character of the vibra-
tions, as shown in A, B and C of Fig. 4,
for which all conditions were the same
except that the initial pressures of the
explosive mixtures were 1, f, and i at-
mospheres, respectively. In the first
place, the adiaWic temperature rise in
the unbumed gas, for any given position
of the fiame front, increases as the initial
pressure is decreased. Secondly, it may
be seen from the photographs that the
amount of actinic light radiated by the
burned gas is less the lower the pressure.
This probably means that the tempera-
ture of the burned gas is less for the
explosions from low pressures, which in
turn is to be expected from the longer
molecular free path and consequent
greater percentile heat loss to the walls
nearby.

Thus it appears that, for identical
pressures in the explosion vessel, the
lower the initial pressure the higher is
the temperature of the unbumed gas and
the lower is that of the burned gas, both
conditions tending to reduce the magni-
tude of the change in the velocity of the
reflected pressure wave at the flame
front. Thus the amplitude of the vibra-
tion of the flame front decreases with
initial pressure. Similarly, since the
average temperature of the burned gas
is less when the initial pressure is low,
more time is required for the wave trav-
eling toward the point of ignition to
reach this end of the tube and return
again to catch and accelerate the flame
front. The period of the vilurations of
the flame during runs from low in it i a l
pressure is therefore greater, as may be
semi in the photographs.

Pictures A, B and C also illustrate' the
Iwit, already mentioned, that the dura-
tion of the delay lieriod beoomes greater

as the initial pressure is decreased.
While in A the flame can be seen to
move away from the point of ignit^
immediately after the passage of the
spark, it moves more slowly in B, and
in C there is an interval of about 0.001
second subsequent to the spark in which
no flame trace is visible even on the
original negative.

For picture D, the explosive mixture
initially at a pressure of 1 atmosphere,
was fired simultaneously at both ends of
the closed tube. In this ease the time
required for the flames to traverse all
the charge was approximately half of
that required when the ignition was at
one end only. The unbumed gas ap-
pears to have vibrated more or less as a
unit, since the crests of one flame trace
are about simultaneous with the troughs
of the other.

For picture E the tube was filled with
explosive mixture to a pressure of 1
atmosphere and the upper end was
opened to the surroundings just prior to
firing. The only retrogression of the
flame front occurred after it had trav-
eled about three-fourths the length of
the tube. Since the nearest solid reflect-
ing surface was the ceiling of the room,
about seven feet above the open end of
the tube, it is probable that the retrogres-
sion is the result of the behavior of the
tube as an open organ pipe.

For picture F the tube was again filled
to a pressure of 1 atmosphere, the upper
end was opened, and a spark gap con-
sisting of small nickel wires was intro-
duced.. Only these two wires were in a
position to disturb the free egress of the
burned gas. The film speed was reduced
to one fifth that employed for the other
records of this series. Vibrations of tiie
flame front are visible throughout the
entire flame trace, but in similar records
made by igniting the charge with a flame
instead of a spark these vibrations do not
always appear until later in the bunting
process. The wires of the spark gap

226

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

<d) (b)

FIG. 1. DIAQBAMMATIC ESPRESENTATION OP BUN-
SEN FLA.MES IN A HYPOTHETICAL BURNER.

may therefore have been responsible for
the early vibrations in picture F.

The general forward velocity of the
flame, without regard for the vibration,
is, in this case, about 150 cm per second,
which, barring wall friction and heat
loss, should be the transformation veloc-
ity. The actual value of St for this mix-
ture, as observed by other methods, is
very close to 100 cm per second, thus
showing that this particular open-end
tube does not give reliable values of St.

The reason for the higher flame speed$
in the first five pictures compared to that
in picture F is, of course, that all the
expansion in the former took place be-
hind the flame front and was effective in
moving the unbumed gas in the direc-
tion of the flame travel. However in F
the only motion imparted to the un-
bumed gas is that resulting from the
reaction of the walls to the escape of the
burned gas.

It is hoped that the pictures constitut-

ing Fig. 4 have illustrated the major pos-
sibilities and limitations of the tube as a
vessel in which normal explosions may
be observed.

There are many recorded values** of
flame speed measured in open-end tubes.
Such values of spatial velocity have
never been sufficiently free from effects
inherent in the apparatus to be con-
sidered true transformation velocities.
This fact is further emphasized by the
experimental facts themselves which
show that the observed spatial velocity
for a given mixture may increase many
fold with tube diameter, and that differ-
ent values are observed when the propa-
gation is in an upward, downward or
horizontal direction.

The relative effects of both wall fric-
tion and heat loss to the walls decrease
as the tube diameter is increased, so that
the observed spatial velocities should
approach the transformation velocities
for large tubes. In such tubes, however,
the difficulty of uncertain flame shape is
introduced, since ignition is hard to ac-
complish simultaneously over a large
surface.

Explosions in large cylinders and
spheres. In any explosion in a closed
vessel many complications are intro-
duced by the continuously and rapidly
rising pressure. However, much useful
information has been obtained by con-
ducting explosions in such vessels with-
out photographing the flame and with-
out measuring the rise in pressure. In
most of these experiments it is only
necessary to determine whether or not
there has been an explosion, and the eye
or ear may be adequate.

The more important results of such
experiments are (1) the so-called ^^igni-
tion temperature, or temperature above
which the reaction becomes self-propa-
gating; (2) the ignition characteristios,
and (8) the concentration limits of the
self-propagation of flame.

mW. a. Bone and D, T. A. Townend, op,
eit., chaps. 11-14.

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MTXTUEES

227

The spatial velocity of flame in closed
containers may be measured by the
methods previously described. In such
vessels, however, this velocity is highly
dependent upon the shape, so that
numerical values are of little use unless
the movements of the unbumed gas can
also be determined. An exception
should be noted in case all points on the
walls of the explosion vessel are at a
considerable distance from the spark
gap. Soon after ignition in such large
containers the spatial velocity attains a
constant value which is independent of
the characteristics of the container, and
is a function only of the expansion ratio
and transformation velocity of the par-
ticular explosive mixture at the initial
temperature and pressure. Practically
identical values of the constant spatial
velocity of flame in mixtures of CO and
Oa have been observed by the author for
explosions in soap bubbles,*® in a large
glass cylinder*® and in a steel sphere.*^

When it is desired to follow the entire
combustion process from ignition to the
walls of the vessel, it is obvious that a
spherical vessel with central ignition
offers the most promise, since the move-
ments of both flame and gases are sym-
metrical and may therefore be more
readily and more completely analyzed.
In other words the spherical container
with central ignition seems to offer the
greatest chance of minimizing the spe-
cific effects of the apparatus in which the
burning takes place upon the observed
quantities.

Studies of explosions at constant vol-
ume are of greatest use only when pro-
vision is made for measuring the rapid
rise in pressure which results from the
burning. Some years ago the primary

**£!. F. Fioek and 0. H. Boeder, Technical
Meport No. SSt, Nat. Adviaory Committee for
AeronautioB, 1S86.

Xkid«, Technical Seport No. SSS, 1986.

*7 B. F. Fioek, 0. F. Marvin, F. B. CaldweU
and 0. H. Boeder, Technical keport No. €8$^
Nat. Advisory Oon^ttee for Aeronautics, 1989.

object of the measurement of explosion
pressures was the determination of the
mean heat capacities of diluent gases
between the initial and final tempera-
tures. Subsequently this method of mea-
suring heat capacity was largely re-
placed by more reliable spectroscopic
methods.

Hence the more recent measurements
of explosion pressures have had, as their
primary goal, the determination of ex-
pansion ratio, transformation velocity,
and other quantities which appear to be
indices of the power, performance, and
economy inherent in the explosive mix-
tures.

No discussion of explosions at constant
volume would be complete without some
mention of the pressure indicators which
have been used. Those devices yielding
pressure-time or pressure-volume data
may be classified as (1) optical indica-
tors; (2) balanced-pressure indicators;
(3) sampling indicators; (4) micro-indi-
cators, and (5) electrical indicators, ac-
cording to the principle on which they
operate.

In most of these instruments a flexible

PXBIOD ZK IQTJtVALBKT IClXTtTBXS OF 00 AND 0,.

228 THS2 SCUBNimO MONTHLY

diaphragiQ is used as the pressare-sensi'
live element. Many different methods,
both meehanical and/or optical, have
been devised for magnifying and record-
ing the motion of the diaphragm. In
other types the operation of a light pis-
ton or valve shows when the explosion
pressure has reached a pireviously
selected and measured value. Still other
types make use of the effect of the explo-
sion pressure upon the resistance of an
element such as a carbon pile, upon the
capacitance of an appropriate condenser,
and upon the electromotive force, or
more exactly upon the piezo-electric
properties of certain crystals such as
tourmaline or quartz. In the latter in-
stances a flexible diaphragm usually pro-
tects the sensitive element from direct
contact with the flame.

In ail these instruments a compromise
must be made between the time required
to accelerate the moving parts and their
sensitivity to change in pressure. For
example an indicator appropriate for
measuring explosion pressures with su£S-
cient accuracy to permit cedculation of
transformation velocity must have a
much higher sensitivity and over-all ac-
curacy than the more rugged instrument
suitable for yielding the ordinary en-
gine-indicator cards. The choice of an
indicator must, therefore, involve care-
ful consideration of the operating con-
ditions and the required accuracy of the
pressure measurements.

Recently a series of measurements*'
using a spherical bomb with central igni-
tion and a window through which the
progress of the flame could be photo-
graphed, and with six diaphragm-type
pressure indicators was conducted at the
National Bureau of Standards, using the
fuels CO, normal heptane, iso-octane and
benzene.

Fig. 5 is a dia^ammatie representa-
tion of the spherical bomb with its win-
dow and of typical flame traces for bomb

»» Ibid.

and soap bubble. When a epark ooeon
at the center of the bomb, a sphere of
flame starts to spread exactly as in the
constant-pressure explosion. However,
the walls of the bomb soon resist the
outward flow of gas set up by the expan-
sion, and the unbumed charge is com-
pressed instead of merely being pushed
away ,by the advancing flame front.
Thus the expanding gases can not push
the flame front outward as fast or as far
as in the bubble explosion. As a result
of the steadily decreasing outward gas
velocity, the flhme front travels more
slowly as it approaches the walls, even
though it is propagating into the com-
pressed and heated unbumed charge at
an ever-increasing speed.

The slopes of the flame traces shown
in Fig. 5 constitute a direct measure of
the speeds of flame in space. The slope
of the trace of the flame in the bomb
gradually decreases from the constant
value of that in the bubble until it
reaches a value at the wall which is a
measure of the transformation velocity
in the last portion of the charge to bum.
This condition must always prevail since
the last of the gas to bum can not move
beyond the walls, and is, therefore, es-
sentially at rest when traversed by the
flame.

Fig. 6 is a reproduction of a typical
explosion record, the fuel in this par-
ticular case being benzene. Adjacent to
the flame trace is the time record consist-
ing of a series of dashes of known fre-
quency. Beyond are six lines constitut-
ing the pressure record. The start of
each line indicates the instant at which
the explosion pressure reached the value
for which an indicator had previously
been set. The electrodes at the spark
gap photograph as a thin dark line which
served as an axis of zero flame displace-
ment. The light streak extending across
the figure is a still picture of a fixed riit
in the camera, the neon lights operated
by the pressure indicators, and the firing

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTUEES

229

spark. This part of the record was
made to permit the evaluation of small
corrections for lack of alignment. From
such simultaneous time-displacement
and time-pressure records, a number of
the burning characteristics for compar-
able mixtures of the above mentioned
fuels were derived.

In explosions of CO and O 2 the rise
in pressure is approximately the same
for a given mass of mixture inflamed,
regardless of initial pressure. This was
to be expected from theoretical consid-
erations since the only difference must
result from secondary effects of tem-
perature and pressure upon the chemi-
cal equilibrium.

During the early stages of the burning
of the three hydrocarbon fuels in theo-
retical proportions with Oj. there is like-
wise no measurable difference in the
pressure rise prtKluced when a given
fraction of the charge is inflamed. Later
in the burning small differences do ap-
pear in the order of the hydrogen-carbon
ratio of the fuels, as might be anticipated
from the thermal properties of the prod-
ucts of combustion.

In all the explosions studied there is a
general increase in the transformation
velocity as the temperature and pressure
of the unburned charge rise because of
adiabatic compression by the advancing
flame.

In the explosions of CO and Og, for
which it was possible to calculate the in-
dependent effects of temperature and
pressure, both these variables appear to
influence the transformation velocity.
Some uncertainty in the magnitudes of
the effects arises from the possibility that
other factors, associated in some obscure
way with the stage of the burning, may
influence transformation velocities to an
unknown extent.

For the hydrocarbons, the transforma-
tion velocity is highest for the bensene,
and lowest for .fjhe iso-octane, with the
a-heptshe iaterfhCdiate. Addition of

no. 3. TYPICAI, KKCORD OP AN RXPIAWION IN A
SOAP BUBBliI. THE ITLII VOTES DOWNWABD;
THE PLAUE VOTES EIOHT AND
LETT raOV CENTER.

ethyl fluid to the heptane produced no
appreciable change in flame speed.
Thus there appeare to be no relation
between transformation velocity under
the conditions of the experiments and
the tendency of the fuels to knock in
an engine. In fact a thorough examina-
tion of all the characteristics of normal
burning reveals that none can be corre-
lated with tendency to knock. The be-
havior of all three fuels in the bomb is
so nemrly the same that high accuracy
ol the measurements is necessary to show
wy differences at all in those character-
istics which are independent of the
apparatus.

230

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

no. 4. TYPICAL RjECOKI^ OP EXPLOSIOXS IN CIX)SED- AND OPEN-END TUBES,

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTURES

231

In all the explosions the rise in pres-
sure for a given mass of charge inflamed
was considerably less than would be ex-
pected from calculations based on ther-
mal data and the assumption that chemi-
cal reaction goes to equilibrium in a
very thin reaction zone. The results
therefore indicate that the burning is not
completed in a shallow zone, but that
reaction and heat liberation continue for
some time after the flame front has
passed.

Further visual evidence of this con-
tinued evolution of energy within the
inflamed gases, sometimes called after-
burning, was obtained by photographing
the gas movements within the sphere of
flame. In one such experiment eight
human hairs, more or less symmetrically
spaced with respect to the spark gap,
were stretched across the bomb. At the
center of each hair, in the line of, vision
of the camera through the window, a
few finely ground particles of black gun
powder were attached with very dilute
shellac.

Pig. 7 is a photograph of a CO-Og ex-
plosion with such an arrangement inside
the bomb. The hairs seem to offer no
resistance to the motion of the flame,

FIO. 5. DIAGRAMMATIC REPRESEKTATIOK OF A
SPHERICAL BOMB AND TYPICAL FLAME
TRACES FOR BOMB AND SOAP BUBBLE.

while tlie powder seems to ignite as soon
as it is touched by flame, and then to
burn very brightly. It can be seen that
the hot gases from the powder begin to
move at on(‘e toward the center of the
bomb. This movement continues for
some time after the flame has reached
the wall of the bomb, as indicated at
jioint A in the photograph. The out-
ward motion of the powder flame in the
regions marke4 B is probably the result
of contraction due to cooling at the wall.

There are two possible effects vrhich
(u)uld cause the flame gases to move
toward the center, namely expansion in
the gases which surround them, and con-
traction in the gases which they enclose.

FIQ. 6. TYPICAL RECORD OF AN EXPLOSION IN A SPHERICAL BOMB OF CONSTANT VOLUME.

232

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

FIG. 7. RECORD OF AN KXPLOBION IN A BPHEKICAL BOMB, BHOWINO MOVEMENTS

WITHIN THE BURNED OAR.

The latter could occur only if the gas
near the center were losing heat by
radiation at a seemingly improbable
rate. It is therefore believed that the
continued movement of the flame gases
toward the center, after the flame hits
the wall, indicates continued expansion
in an outer shell of gas which has already
been traversed by flame, and that Fig. 7
is thus visible evidence of afterburning.
It is further believed that the inward
movement of the central flame gas be-
yond point A can not be due to burning
of the powder because such small
amounts were used and because the same
movement was observed in each of a
number of similar explgsions where the,

powder was present at only one instead
of eight points.

Lewis and von Elbe*® calculated values
of transformation velocity for ozone-
ox 3 »^gen explosions in a spherical bomb
from the time-pressure records alone.
These investigators have since referred
to a new spherical bomb*® in which there
is provision for taking flame records
simultaneously with the pressure rec-
ords, although actual explosion data with
this apparatus have not yet been pub-
lished.

20 B. Lewis and G. von Kibe, Jour. Chemical
Phyeice, 2: 283-290, 1934.

30 B. I^ewis and G. von Elbe, Jour, Chemical
Physics, 7: 197, 1939.

(To he Concluded)

SCIENTISTS LOOK AT ASTROLOGY

By Dr. BART J. BOK and MARGARET W. MAYALL

ASKO(5IATK PROFRHROR OK ASTRONOMY AND RKKEARCH ASSISTANT, HARVARD ITNIVERSITY

HARVARD rOLLEUE OBSERVATORY

Public interest in astrolop:y lias ^rown
rapidly duriap: the past decade, due in
no sniall measure to the general misap-
preli(»nsion that exists in the minds of
many about the stand inj? of astrolopry as
a ‘ ‘ seicMK'e. ’ ^ Astrologers ha ve made skil-
fiil nse of this confusion and, by the use
of pseudo-scientific terms, have succeeded
in ji:ainin^' some deforce of jmblic respect.
It is si{»’nifieant that it is a jyeneral jirac-
ti(‘e on newsstands to place sound popu-
lar scientific and engineering? journals on
the same shelf as the astrolojiical mai?a-
zines. The eonfnsion is not limited to
the less-edueated sections of onr pojnila-
tion; a few months aj2:o one of the coun-
try ’s foremost public libraries gave in its
monthly bulletin a list of recent ac<pii-
sitions in astronomy and astrology in a
section beaded “ Science. Tiu're is
hardly an astronomer who has not been
approached on more than one occasion
with a request for the prejinratiou of a
horoscope.

What have scientists done to correct
such misconceptions? Individuals have
occasionally voiced a protest, but active
concern in the sjireading of astrology has
generally been considennl below the dig-
nity of sedentists. Yet it can hardly be
denied that it is one of the functions of
scientists in a democracy to inform the
public about the nature and background
of a current fad, such as astrology, even
though to do so may be unpleasant.

Astronomically minded members of the
Boston and Cambridge Branch of the
American Association of Scientific Work-
ers, aided by some of their colleagues in
other parts of the country, recently

formed a committee for the investigation
of astrology, with B. J. Bok, chairman,
and Mrs. M. W. Mayall, secretary. This
committee is releasing simultaneously
with this issue a first report in which a
general survey is given of several prob-
lems related to astrology. We present
iiere a summary of the report, (M)vering
such topics as the accepted techniejues of
astrolog(‘rs, the history of astrology, the
ext(mt to wbi(*h it has spread, the atti-
tude of scientists, and the legal a.specis
of the problem.

1. The Hoiiosrojn: anp its Inteupre-

TATTON

In the teclinique usually employed by
astrologers the boroseojie of an individ-
ual at tlie time of bis birth plays an all-
important role in astrological predic-
tions. Figs. 1 and 2 show how such a
lioroKcope is prepared. Fig. 1 shows how
the horizon and celestial meridian divide
the (celestial sphere for a particular loca-
tion into four equal parts. Each <piarter
section of the sphere is again divided
into three ecpial sections by great circles
passing Ihrougli the north and south
points on the horizon. The twelve sec-
tions thus formed are called ‘^louses’^
and the iioints of intersection of their
boundaries' with the ecliptic are called
the ‘ * cusps. The exact location of the
houses and the cusps in the horoscope of
a given individual can be determined
only if the time of birth and tlie longi-
tude and latitude of the place of birth
are all accurately known. Compara-
tively small errors in these basic data

234

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

FUl. 1. CELKSTIAIj sphere divided into twelve parts

THE TWELVE SECTION’S FORMED BY THE GREAT OIRCLBS ARE CALLED “HOUSES,” AND THE POINTS OF
INTERSEItTION OF THEIR BOUNDARIES WITH THE ECLIPTIC ABE CALLED “CUSPS.”

may have a eonsiderable influence on the inpr as a center of force, exerts a particu-
relative positions of the planets and lar influence, depending upon its position
cusps. in the horoscope. The relative positions

Pig. 2 is a conventional type of horo- of the planets and their “aspects” play
scope. The outer circle of the wheel or an important part in the interpretation
tire represents the ecliptic and its spokes of a horoscope. Standard treatises on
mark the houses. The houses are num- astrology, such as the books of Alan Leo,
bered as indicated and, with the aid of give the significance of each particular
an astronomical ephemeris, we can now aspect, at the time of birth and in later
plot the positions of the sun, moon and life.

planets in the houses at the time of birth. Many astrologers use the system of
The positions of the cusps in the zodiacal secondary progressions as the ideal tech-
constellations are shown by the signs and nique of prognostication, according to
degrees in the tire. ' which each successive day after birth

The interpretation of a horoscope is represents a year in the life of a subject,
carried out according to a set of more or There is, however, considerable disagree-
less standardized rules, but each expert ment about the value of progressions
has developed his or her own system, among leading astrologers of to-day.
Each “house” is associated with various One of them has stated flatly that “pro-
matters and each planet, supposedly act- gressions are non-existent.”

SCIENTISTS LOOK AT ASTROLOGY

235

J-’IO. 2. CONVENTIONAL TYPE HOROSCOPE OK BIRTH
NOVEMBER 23 , 1907 . 4 A.M. E. 8. T. 40 " 43 ' N. 73 “ 58 ' W. OUTER (TBC'LE REPRESENTS ECLIPTIC AND

1T.S SPOKES MARK THE “ HOUSES.” SKINS AND DKOKEKS MARK TUB “CUSPS.

II. History

The earliest records of astronomy in
our Western tradition are of Babylonian
oriji^in. The researches of Neugebauer
have shown that astrology made its ap-
pearance only after astronomy had
reached a high level of development.
Judicial astrology appeared in Babylonia
after 600 B.O., long after the Babylonian
astronomers had developed their astro-
nomical tables and ephemerides, calen-
dars and lunar eclipse theory, and long
after the discovery of the Saros cycle in
solar eclipses.

There existed no judicial astrology
during the high periods of civilization in
Egypt and it was only during the Hel-
lenistic period, when Egyptian civiliza-
tion was moribund, that Babylonian as-
tro]og>’ was introduced. The Greek as-

tronomers did not concern themselves
with astrology until Hellenistic times,
when, largc'ly through the influence of
Berosus, a school for astrologers was es-
tablished on the island of Cos.

Ptolemy, the last of the important
Greek astronomers, was intcrc‘sted in as-
trology. J list as Ptolemy ’s ‘ ‘ A1 magest ^ ^
became the standard reference in astron-
omy, so did the same author’s ‘‘Tetra-
biblos” become the bible of astrology for
Islam and the Latin West. Our present-
day astrology goes back to Ptolemy.
Ptolemy, who flourished at the end of a
period of about fifteen hundred years of
astronomical development, was appar-
ently the only Greek astronomer of first
rank to be connected with astrology.

Astrology threatened to take complete
possession of all classes of society in the

236

THE SCIENTIFIC! MONTHLY

Roman world. Cato the Elder and
Cicero attacked astroloj^y, but there is
no evidence that they had much influence
on their contemporaries. Although there
were edicts against astrologers, notably
in the reigns of Augustus, Domitian and
Hadrian, nevertheless their prox)hecies
were feared and they were consulted
secretly. The condition is curiouslj^
parallel to that which exists in Germany
at the present time.

The Roman Catholic Church was vig-
orously op})osed to astrology. St. Au-
gustine, who admitted in his ‘‘Confes-
sions” that before his conversion he had
been attracted to astrology, was its most
articulates and vehement opponent. The
opi)osition to astrology by the Catholic
Church has persisted through the ages.
The only recorded lax>ses are toward the
end of the middle ages, during the cen-
turies that ])recede(l the birth of modern
natural science. The altitude of the
Catholic (‘hurch is summarized in the
wor<]s of a modern Catholic writer, who
states: “The Catholic Church condemns
astrology as a pagan superstition which
by encouraging fatalism leads to the de-
nial of Divine Providence.”

With the fall of the Roman Emi.)ire,
astrology came to an end in the West for
about five hundred years. The return of
astrology in the Latin West came with
th(‘ introduction of Arabic science in the
eleventh and twelfth centuries.

When the Arabs took over Greek sci-
ence, tht‘y also acquired the astrology
which had develoi)ed iy th^ Hellenistio
period ; and in the great period of Ara-
bic culture (a.d. 900-1100) astrology be-
came associated with alchemy, medicine,
astronomy and mathematics. It has
been suggested that most of the Arabic
observatories were erected primarily for
astrological purposes and that their as-
tronomical use was only incidental, but
this has not been confirmed by modern
historical research. The main reason for
the building of these observatories, in-

cluding the famous one at Bagdad, was
to determine the direction toward Mecca
so tliat the faithful could face it at the
hours of prayer.

In the early medieval period, astrol-
ogy w'as reintroduced into the Latin
West princix)ally through Arabic medi-
cine. It had little influence during the
twelfth century, but it Avent rapidly for-
ward during the thirteenth century and
attempted to gain recognition as a “sci-
ence” by claiming that it was based on
cosmological princij)le.s. The tolerance
of some forms of astroh^gy by church
authorities made it possible for astrolo-
gers to establish themselves, even to
holding professorships in several Italian
universities.

During the late Middle Ages and the
early Renaissanee the oi)i)osition to as-
trology was vigorous, within the chnndi
and without, by mathematicians and sci-
entists, including Oresme, Henry of
Hesse, Albert of Saxony, and by human-
ists like Petrarch and Pico della Miran-
dola. But astrology had gained such a
foothold that astronomers were often
forced to earn their living by astrology
w’hile carrying on their work as best
they could. The case of Kepler is an
outstanding exanij>le. To begin with,
Kepler had great diflSculty in obtaining
an appointment because he w’as a Protes-
tant and a Copernican but, when he did
get a position as lecturer on mathe-
matics at the poor academy at Gratz, one
of his duties was the preparation of the
yearly almanac containing weather pre-
dictions and astrological information.
Later, when he was appointed as im-
perial mathematician at Prague to suc-
ceed Tycho Brahe, his financial troubles
were not at an end; and in 1628, two
years before his death, when his salary
was three years in arrears, he took to
drawing up horoscopes for the astrolo-
ger-soldier Wallenstein as a means of
supporting himself and his dependents.
Well might Kepler say “Mother Astron-

S(^1ENTISTS LOOK AT ASTROLOGY

237

omy would certainly have to suffer if
the daughter Astrology did not earn the
bread. In spite of this financial neces-
sity, Kepler kept his astronomical work
free from astrology. Tycho Brahe is the
only astronomer of the first rank who
completely fuse<l his astronomy and his
astrology.

The religious revival accompanying
the Reformation and the Roman Cath-
olic Counter-Reformation was the most
important influence in i)utting an end
to this period of astrology. Asti^ol-
ogy still continued to ‘‘hang on/’ as
we know from the diatribes of Jonathan
Swift, the jibes of Benjamin Franklin
and the wrath of Increase Mather
against individual astrologers. But its
power was broken, and it did not win
any marked increase in public interest
until our owui time.

In this liistorical summary several
interesting points emerge: astrology has
flourished in periods of high scientific
development rather than in low periods,
and likewise in periods when religion
and philosophy were in eclipse. Also,
astrology has made only practically neg-
ligible contributions to science; indeed,
its prevalence has been actually harm-
ful. In the middle ages, when students
were flocking to astrology lectures, as-
tronomers were having a hard time to
earn their living from scientific work.
On medicine, astrology had a strangling
influence, for physicians gave ui> diag-
nosis from the symptoms and case his-
tory and relied on horoscopes to tell
them why the patient was ill, what drugs
to ])res(:ribe and what was the favorable
time to apply the remedies. Astrology
hindered the development of chemistry,
because it was only after alchemy had
been purged of astrology and other
superstitions that chemistry grew as a
separate discipline. The most striking
fact is that astrology is now trying once
more to gain recognition as a science by
the use of methods that are reminiscent

ASTKOLOOERH’ BOOTHS

IN LAHORE, INDIA.

of tiiose used with success during the
middle ages.

lir. Press, Magazines and Advertising

A large percentage of the new^spapers
of the United States publishes either
daily or monthly columns on astrology.
These columns might be expected in
newspapers sold to the less-educated
j)ortion of the population and in the
sections of the country where super-
stition is widespread, but a survey shows
that there are hundreds of such news-
papers tliat carry no astrological data
whatever. It is in the large centers of
population that astrological columns are
most prevalent. Most of the public li-
braries in large metropolitan areas have
on file more than a hundred representa-
tive newspapers selected from all over
the country. On the average about 20
per cent, of the newspapers on file carry
astrological columns.

The condition in New York City is
more or less typical. Only two out of

238

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

* < UTBltJSQUE C08MI . . . HI8TORI A » »
ROBRRTO FUID, OPPENHEIM, 1617. TITLRPAOE. A
COUPRMDITTM or A8TK0L0GY AND MAOIC WITH
SPECIAL EMPHASIS ON THEIR 1TSE8 IN THE DIAO-
N08IB AND CURB OF THE ILLS OF THE HUMAN
BODY. THE SECTIONS IlEVOTEI) TO ARITHMETIC,
OEOMETKY, ETC. ARE OF NO SCIENTIFIC IMPOR-
TANCE. THIS WAS AN IMMENSELY I'OPULAB
WORK AND WAS PRINTED IN MANY EDITIONS.

•

nine general newspapers published in
Manhattan, the Daily News and the
Journal American, publish astrological
columns; but the News alone has th6
largest circulation of all newspapers in
the country, about 1,880,000 daily and
about 3,380,000 on Sunday, according to
1939 averages. The JournaUAmericom,
with 609,000 daily, has the largest circu-
lation among the local afternoon papers.
Thus the number of readers exposed to
these columns is much greater than the
proportion of papers (2 out of 9) carry-
ing them would indicate.

Some of the leading newspapers of the

country are now printing astrological
columns. In the eastern part of the
United States the list of distinguished
offenders includes the Philadelphia Jn-
quirer, the Times-Herald of Washing-
ton, D. C., and the Boston Traveler, In
the southeast the Memphis Commercial
Appeal, the Charlotte Observer, and the
Atlania Constitution all carry astrolog-
ical columns. The News and the Plain
Dealer in Cleveland, the Ohio State
Journal, Chicago’s Herald and Exami-
ner and the Daily Tribune have astro-
logical features. In the San Francisco
area two of the four large newspapers
carry astrological columns and two do
not. Advertisements by astrologers are
regularly printed by many of the news-
papers that do not refer to astrology in
their news sections. Some news syndi-
cates have occasionally released stories
with astrological predictions.

The code of standard astrology, to
which the great majority of the coun-
try’s astrologers are supposedly adher-
ing, states that “a precise astrological
opinion can not honestly be rendered
with reference to the life of an individ-
ual unless it is based upon a horoscope
for the year, month, day and time of day
plus correct geographical location of the
place of birth of the individual . . .”
This statement alone renders all daily
forecasts in newspapers void. The sup-
posedly individual horoscopes that can
be obtained by writing in and enclosing
twenty-five cents are in reality fre-
quently only copies from a relatively
small number of master horoscopes.

The newspapers are by no means the
only offenders. Weekly and monthly
magasines with a nation-wide distribu-
tion have printed articles by leading
astrologers. On May 12, 1940, the Amer-
ican Weekly^which claims the largest
circulation of any magazine in the worM
— ^began a series of front-page articles
on astrology by ^^Hollywood’s astrolo-
ger” Norvell. It is, however, encour-

SCIENTISTS LOOK AT ASTROLOGY

239

aging that Oood Housekeeping has just
taken a firm stand against astrology.
The Federal Communications CommiS'
sion has ruled astrologers off the air
waves after protest by the American
Astronomical Society and the American
Society of Magicians.

Hollywood appears to be a veritable
astrologer’s paradise, and in a quieter
way Wall Street has proved a fertile
field for astrological activity. Thus it is
quite apparent that the influence of
astrology is by no means limited to
persons with salaries in lower income
brackets.

Prominent among the strictly astro-
logical magazines are: American As-
trology, Horoscope^ Astrology Ouide,
Wynnes Astrology, World Astrology
and Astro-Digest. American Astrology
is said to have a circulation in excess
of 100,000. The average newsstand
carries at least four or five different
astrological magazines. The dime stores
have succumbed to the astrological craze.
Modern automatic scales produce tickets
with the weight of the victim on one side
and astrological advice on the back.

Astrology has made considerable in-
roads in advertising. The Better Busi-
ness Bureaus have exposed many of the
schemes used by astrologers, but in spite
of their effectiveness they have not suc-
ceeded in eliminating astrology as an aid
to salesmanship.

IV. Lb)gal Aspects

Many states have laws prohibiting the
practice of astrology. According to
American Jurisprudence (Vol, 23, p.
Vll) *Hhe offense of fortune telling is
generally held to be a misdemeanor.
Under many statutes fortune tellers are
declared to be vagrants and disorderly
persons, and it has been said that such
persons are without any property rights
in a name or appellation, which a court
of equity will protect.^’

In the State of New York the legisla-

ture ^‘has signified its disbelief in hu-
man power to prophesy human events,’’
^‘Any prediction of human events f(^
hire is prohibited by subdivision 3 of
section 899 of the code of criminal pro-
cedure.” (253 N.Y.S. 836.) The avail-
ability of astrological literature in New
York City is proof that these laws are
not strictly enforced.

It is evident from the following quota-
tions from the bench that the courts hold
no brief for astrology:

Fortune tellers have always been classed with
rogues and mountebanks and generally disrepu-
table members of society to be summarily dealt
with for the good of the community. (N. Y.
V. Ashley 184 App. Div. 522; see also 4 Black.
Com. 62.)

That as the statute contains no exceptions as
to the method employed by defendants, any pre-
diction of future events for hire is prohibited.
(People V. Malcolm 90 Misc. Bep. 517.)

it.;v ‘

\i. I

'•'ir'i

Vi' i

f,: ss'-

•

. .C'N'4 xA

't <iiii,iiiiii » 4 n iiiii . m I

ta&f, sfwlikhllMftiiM^ahssi liib davl

illSr MS law ksM « «ii4 wdiiM

Sagfc mraggS

w 4#^/* aMteitefir

hsil» aid

MSA

A CONFUTATION OF ASTBOLOGY
HZKRV MOEZ, bCimON, 1661, F. 63. THE WJUTSE,
A PHYSICIAN, WAS ONS OF TOX <<CAMBSZMS
FliATONlBTS” WHO ATTBltPTED TO FUENIBH A
PHILOSOPHICAL BACKGSOUNO FOE THB NSW SOX-
BKCE OF THE 17 th CENTUBT.

SUPPLEMENT

240

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

< J'*

f/l'-

", c

ik *

' 1 ' P 'v-*' '^mki'^i

‘r

j '

i?' f'V' !

S •‘v.

f "1

•; i. ; i

i M W

f s 1

* * •

. 4 M

■r.

*■ -X »

ihhiiwm

'S'V

I ♦ <S D

A I A

- T"

tr,,a;D

% ‘ ^ . . o j

:‘S!KV.- j loT^ ■ Jt

l^>^ ^W ■w^^^»^f»1»l|i>■ | li^^^ W l■ ■ I < rs rt4l n Wii # I— i iii|fc -fU ^

rr5rr5r^:-Tcr:al1S«

.. U . r ,i>ii ,1 1 H I— { ,»,■■■, I i | ...>ii<i « n <i,|' - .i f i I 1^

1- o » a i JH '

i ! »i<i. ■ ° —

,Nl>^iNi .. - — -

’ “ ■ ■#! 4';

■ i , ' ■ ' "> . . •.f?l .«il K

FRONTISPIECE OF BOOK BY JOHN PARTRIDGE LON IWN,17W

THE MTTIOE IS THE ASTKOIXWER VPOS WHOM JONATHON SWIFT PLV^RO THF. lAMOrs JOKE

SCIENTISTS LOOK AT ASTBOLOOY

241

“Advertising to tell fortunes by any
means is prohibited in some states/’
(Ruling Case Law, Perm. Suppl. p.
2254.) In addition, tlie “Printers’ Ink
Statute” makes false advertising a mis-
demeanor. The model statute provides
that any person, firm or association that
places before the public an advertise-
ment of any sort, with intention to sell
or in any wise dispose of merchandise,
setnirities, services or anything so offered
to the public, which advertisement con-
tains any assertion, representation or
statement of fact which is untrue, de-
ceptive or misleading, shall be guilty of
a misdemeanor. A study of Postal
Fraud Orders shows that astrologers
continually make use of the printed
word in a manner that is deceptive and
misleading in order to increase the con-
sumption of their wares, a practice
which this statute was designed to pre-
vent. The Printers’ Ink Statute has
been “enacted into law in twenty-five
statics, while thirteen additional states
have adopted it with modifications.”
(Boston Better Business Bureau, Pact
Booklet, 1938.)

Astrology is condemned by the courts,
and tlie public can find protection
against its practices through existing
laws. These laws can and should be
enforced, and the enactment of more
effective and uniform laws should be
urged.

V. The Attitudes op Scientists

Why is it that physical scientists are,
apparently without exception, opposed
to the teachings of astrology f Studies
of the stars and planets have shown
above all that the amounts of radiation
from these bodies that are received on
the earth are exceedingly small and that
their gravitational effects are so slight
as to be negligible in comparison with
those from nearby objects.

Apart from the sun, the moon is the
only celestial body that regularly pro-

duces a force in excess of the gravita-
tional force produced by adjacent ob-
jects at the time of birth. Only under
the most favorable conditions can the
gravitational attraction of the planet
Mars equal that produced by the doctor
in charge of the delivery.

The apparent brightness of a star or
planet will hardly be more than that of
the tail-light of an airplane passing in
flight overhead. The walls of hospitals
and other buildings where babies are
born are opaque to all known radiations
from the planets.

Is it possible that there exists some as
yet unknown way in which the planets
can exert their influence on human
affairs! Every one realizes that there
are many problems, for example, those
presented by hypnotism and thought
transfer, that have not yet been ex-
plained in a satisfactory fashion. The
(?ase of astrology falls outside this class.
It is extremely unlikely that the planet^,
which have a considerable degree of
similarity in their general constitution,
would affect human affairs according to
the generally accepted scheme of astrol-
ogy. For astrology as it is practiced
to-day not only requires an unknown
mechanism for tlie transfer of planetary
influence, but it requires further that
planets with a considerable degree of
similarity should affect human affairs in
an entirely dissimilar fashion.

Astrologers attach great influence to
the signs of the zodiac. Because of pre-
cession of the equinoxes the apparent
positions of these signs have shifted by
more than twenty-five degrees during
the past twenty centuries* It is impose
sible to understand how the stars .can
affect human affairs, but it is doubly
difficult to suggest a mechanism to ac-
count for the influence of the zodiacal
signs, which continue to change their
position among the stars.

The choice of the moment of birth as
the one and only critical instant seems

242

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

TEN PERIODICALS ON ASTROLOGY

ARI BEOUIiARLY CARRIED BT TBIB UAOAZINE STORE IN HARVARD SQUARE WHERE, ON THEIR WAT TO
CLASSES, HARVARD STUDENTS AND PBOPESSimS BUY THEIR READINO MATTER. SOME OB THESE AB-
TBOLOOICAL PUBLICATIONS SELL BETTER THAN <'THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY” AND "THE HARVARD
OUARDIAN.” NOTE THAT THE ASTROLOOICAL MAOAEINES ARE MOST PROMINENT IN THIS WINDOW.

arbitrary, and one is inclined to ask
why this particular moment should be
favored over the time of conception or
the first exposure to fresh air }

An interpretation of the rules laid
down by astrologers demands the exis-
tence of an unimaginable mechanism of
action. Astrologers have not provided
us with as much as a sound hypothesis
that might serve af a basis for their
speculations. Astrologers attempt to
offset this lack of a ' sound working
hypothesis by the. introduction of terms
and concepts that are unknown to physi-
cists and astronomers. No one, wiiii a
high-school training in physics, Should
be fooled into accepting an explanation
of the laws of astrology in which the
term “cosmic vibration” figures promi-
nently.

■Scientists would feel justified in con-
sidering astrology as a legitimate field

of scientific inquiry if astrologers could
claim that its basic rules had been estab-
lished through a rigorous study of cor-
relations. But such a study has not been
made. The rules by which astrologers
interpret their horoscopes have not been
derived from any known experiments or
observations. Astrologers frequently
claim an observational basis in the ex-
peritoce of forgotten generations far
back in antiquity, but pure superstition
can claim as sound a basis. In the cases
of planets discovered in our times
(Uranus, Neptune, Pluto) the evidence
is conclusive that their influences on
men were ascribed by the astrologers
before preliminary observational tests of
the influences could have been made, and
even before accurate orbits could be
assigned to the planets.

One might conceivably prove or dis-
prove astrology as it is practised to<4ay

SCIENTISTS LOOK AT ASTROLOGY

243

through a study of succeBses and failures
of predictions based on horoscopes.
Such a study would necessarily be of a
statistical nature and the results should
be subjected to rigorous statistical analy-
sis. The committee has been unable to
find anywhere the source material for a
decisive test. Those few tests that have
been carried out were based on incom-
plete data about the exact times of birth
or the precepts of statistical analysis
were not followed with sufficient care.

It is, however, possible to test for cer-.
tain broad influences assigned by astrolo-
gers to specific planets and signs of the
zodiac. Farnsworth has studied the
zodiacal birth signs of some two thou-
sand musicians and painters. He found
that the correlation predicted by astrol-
ogy — ^Libra is supposedly the esthetic
sign — was absent. A member of the
committee has made some similar tests
for birth dates of scientists listed in
“American Men of Science. “ The in-

vestigation shows that the frequency
distribution of birth dates of scientists
resembles very closely a random distri-
bution and that the seasonal variations
of birth dates resemble very closely those .
found by Huntington.

The seasonal variations in birth dates
are highly significant for such tests.
Huntington has sliown that about 15 per
cent, more people are bom in January-
February and September than in May-
June and November. These seasonal
variations are reflected in the separate
frequencies for all professions, engi-
neers, industrialists, clergymen, bankers,
physicians, chemists and authors. (See
Huntington’s “Season of Birth,” 1938.)
Now if instead of months zodiacal sun-
signs are considered, the general trend
does not change, whereas for astrological -
influences we should expect widely dif-
ferent correlations for the different pro-
fessions.

In conclusion, we find that astrologers

WHEBE HARVARI) STUDENTS BUY THEIR TEXT BCM>K6
TBE PBOTOORAPBSa lOlTBP TBIB POFtTliAS BOOK OK ASTItOXiOGV PSOICIKBKTUT OtSPLATCD BXTWBIBK
“TBB LXFX of PASTEUR” AKO “TBB ANOXKTED.” AlCOKO OTHER BIST SlUMS OK CTtS SHRLF 18

A ORBAT STACK Of TCKiUHBB Of ”00X8 WITH TBB WIXB.”

244

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

have failed to suggest a workable mecha-
nism by which the stars and planets can
exert their influence on human destiny.
The doctrine of astrology can not claim
that it is in any way supported by statis-
tical evidence from observed correla-
tions, and until such correlations are
established scientists can not accept the
precepts of astrology,

VI. Psychologists State Their
Views on Astrology

The committee for the study of astrol-
ogy has been fortunate in having the
cooperation of some leading psycholo-
gists, At the request of Professor G. W.
Allport, the executive council of the
Society for Psychological Study of
So(ual Issues authorized the release by
the committee of a statement entitled:
** Psychologists State Their Views on
Astrology. ’ ’ We are glad to present this
statement without change.

Psychologists find no evidence that astrology
is of any value whatsoever as an indicator of
past, present, or future trends in one ’s personal
life or in one ’s destiny. Nor is there the slight-
ost ground for believing that social events can
be foretold by divinations of the stars. The
Society for the Psychological Study of Social
Issues therefore deplores the faith of a consid*;
erable section of the American public in %
magical practice that has no shred of justifica-
tion in scientific fact.

The principal reason why people turn to as-
trology and to kindred superstitions is that they
lack in their own lives the resources necessary
to solve serious personal problems confronting
them. Feeling blocked and bewildered they
yield to the pleasant suggestion that a golden

key is at hand — simple solution — ^an ever-
present help in time of trouble. This belief is
more readily accepted in times of disruption
and crisis when the individual’s normal safe-
guards against gullibiUty are broken down.
When moral habits are weakened by depression
or war, bewilderment increases, self-reliance is
lessened, and belief in the occult increases.

Faith in astrology or in any other occult
practice is harmful in so far as it encourages
an unwholesome flight from the persistent prob-
lems of real life. Although it is human enough
to try to escape from the effort involved in hard
thinking and to evade taking responsibility for
one ’s own acts, it does no good to turn to magic
and mystery in order to escape misery. Other
solutions must be found by people who suffer
from the frustrations of poverty, from grief at
the death of a loved one, or from fear of eco-
nomic or personal insecurity.

By offering the public the horoscope as a
substitute for honest and sustained thinking,
astrologers have been guilty of playing upon
the human tendency to take easy rather than
difficult paths. Astrologers have done this in
spite of the fact tliat science has denied their
claims and in spite of laws in some states for-
bidding the prophecies of astrology as fraudu-
lent. It is against public interests for astrol-
ogers to spread their counsels of flight from
reality.

It is unfortunate that in the minds of many
people astrology is confused with true science.
The result of this confusion is to prevent these
people from developing truly scientiflo habits of
thought that would help them understand the
natural, social, and psychological factors that
are actually influencing their destinies. It is,
of course, true that science itself is a long way
from a flnal solution to the social and psycho-
logical problems that perplex mankind; but its
accomplishments to date clearly indicate that
men’s destinies are shaped by their own actions
in this world. The heavenly bodies may safely
be left out of account. Our fates rest not in
our stars but in ourselves.

THE FUTURE OF FORESTRY AND GRAZING
IN THE SOUTHERN PINE BELT

By ELWOOD I. TERRY

PROrKSHOR OK OKOORAPHY AND OONHKRVATION, WINTHROP COLLEUK, SOUTH CAROLINA

The practice of setting out fire ^‘to
improve the grazing'' is responsible for
most of the woods-bu ruing in the South.
Many other causes arc often cited, but
iJiey are almost inconsequential when
(‘ompared to the time-honored custom of
“burning off the rough.’' And there are
among intelligent live-stock men some
warm defenders of that practice. A few
years ago an article appeared in a for-
estry magazine entitled “The Forest
that Fire Made" (meaning the Southern
longleaf-pine forest), which had nearly
the effect of a bombshell exploding in the
forestry camp.“ It was written by S.

1 PhotographH, rourtcRy of U, S. Forest Ser-
vice, Soatiiorn Region.

2 8. W. (Jreene, American Forest Oetolier,

W. Greene, of the Bureau of Animal
Industry, who for a number of years had
been connected with the Coastal Plains
Experiment Station in Mississippi,
studying the effect of ground fires upon
forage production in the South.

The point of Mr. Greene's argument
was that the great forest of nearly pure
longleaf pine which the white man found
when he landed upon these shores was
the result of repeated ground fires that
the Indians were in the practice of
setting to clear off the underbrush and
make easier the hunting of the deer.
This favored the longleaf pine over com-
peting species because of ite remarkable
resistance to fire in early youth. It sur-
vived the light ground fires that killed

A PULP AND PAPBB MILL IN SOUTH ODOJtGlA

245

246

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHIiY

A VIRGINIA LONGLEAF PINE

STAND BADLY FIRE DAMAGED.

the seedlings of short! eaf and loblolly
pine and burned back the hardwood
brush/ ^ So when De Soto and his men
came in 1539 they found an open -growth
forest of almost pure longleaf pine
stretching from the Atlantic to the Mis-
sissippi and beyond, devoid of under-
brush and affording an easy highway for
them to travel over and drive along their
herds of cattle and swine.

Now forest ecologists have always at-
tributed the typical longl^af-pine stands
of the Atlantic and Qulf coastal plains
to the deep sandy soil on which they in-#
variably grew. The longleaf pine is one
of the few trees — and the only important
timber tree — ^that can thrive and grow
to large sise on such dry sandy sites
because of the remarkably long taproot
that it develops, often penetratii^ the
soil for fifteen or twenty f^t in search
of permanent moisture. No other tree
of the eastern United States naturally
develops such an enormous taprodt.
Along the rivers which cross the coastal
plain, on the moister and richer overflow

bottomlands, we find a mixed forest of
dense hardwoods and cypress, from
which the pine is rigidly excluded. The
extensive stretches of deep sandy soil
covering the slightly more elevated inter-
fluves are undoubtedly the fundamental
natural factor in determining the long-
leaf type of forest — ^the “pine barrens’’
of the pioneers. But the writer agrees
with Mr. Greene in believing that the
generations or perhaps centuries of
ground burning to which the “piney
woods” have been subjected have pro-
foundly modified their aspect. Only,
while from the viewpoint of the grazing
man the change has been for the better,
from that of the lumberman it has been
for the worse. In his article Greene
plainly states: “Without annual grass
fires the grasses are smothered out and
neither cattle nor quail can long exist in
such a forest. ” And with that statement
no one who is thoroughly familiar with
the Southern pine forest will care to
enter into a controversy. It is as true
of the shortleaf and loblolly pipe forests
as of longleaf.

It should be recognized, however, that
Mr. Greene looks at these forests with
the apperception of the grazing man.
He thinks that fire is responsible for the
origin of this type of forest, but his
direct interest is not in the timber-
producing values of these forests but in
their value for grazing. To him the
ideal forest is one free from underbrush
but carpeted with a heavy growth of
grass and so open that a deer may be
seen through the timber “as far as the
eye can reach.” That undoubtedly
makes an ideal wooded pasture, but to
the lumberman or forester appraising
its timber values it is comparable to a
ten-acre field of com in which the ma-
ture stalks are so few and far between
that a map standing on one side of the
field eould see a horse trotting along a
road on the opposite side.

But we must concede that the early
pioneers, in burning off the leaf-litter

THE FUTURE OP FORESTRY AND GRAZING

247

and ground cover, did attain their ob-
ject. They increased the amount of
grass for their stock to feed on. For it
is unlikely that much if any grass ever
grew beneath the dense canopy of the
virgin forest anywhere in the humid
eastern part of our country, not even
excepting the sandiest soils of the pine
barrens. But after the leaf-litter, herba-
ceous plants and seedling trees have been
burned off grass will usually come in,
even under fairly thick shade. And if
burning is continued year after year,
destroying and preventing reproduction,
the forest will become more and more
open and the grass will grow rank and
form a sod. for grass loves the sunlight.
In time nothing will be left of the forest
but an open grove of overmature, de-
cadent trees, and they will finally dis-
appear.

That is the probable history of the
considerable area of “savannas’* or open
grass lands that the early explorers
found frequently intercepting the forest
in our Southern states. It was likewise
the cause of the low density or open
character of the longleaf-pine forest that
De Soto rambled over. For as Mr.
Greene points out, there is positive his-
torical evidence that the Indians had
made a practice of burning over the
forest frequently for hunting purposes
long before the Europeans appeared. A
forest long subjected to recurrent
ground fires undergoes profound altera-
tion from its original condition and can
not truly be called a vii*gin forest. If
that be the historical fact, then it may
be asserted that in all probability no
white man has ever beheld the longleaf-
pine forest in its primeval state, and has
no objective example of what such a
forest may be like or the quantity bf
timber it may produce. Neither does it
give any index of the yields of forest
products that be obtained under
good forest management, with fire tod
ghusing precluded. But, in this warm

humid region with great natural capac-
ity for tree growth, the long-contjiiued
ground-burning is undoubtedly responsi-
ble for the open nature of the forest \dth
its slow rate of growth and pitiably sr^l
yield of timber, seldom exceeding four or
five thousand board feet per acre. And
most of the trees composing those stands
are two hundred years or more old. In
the Pacific Northwest old-growth Doug-
las fir often averages a hundred thou-
sand board feet per acre over extensive
areas, and the virgin forests of the
Northeast and the Lake States gave far
heavier yields than the Southern pine.
But nearly all the Southern pine forest
has been cut over at least once, and fully
three fourths of the area that is now in
some stage of forest growth is covered
with second-growth timber, which has
repossessed the land following the re-
moval of the original stand. Prom now
on we must depend upon “second
growth” if the forest industries are to
be perpetuated. But at what rate are

Id-YEAB OW LON0LBAF PINE

SXPRODtTCT^ON OtT TaX CliOCVaWHATOlISX NA-
TIONAL roassT, itioamA.

248

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

TUBPENTIJSIRD LONGLEAF PINE

BADLY FIRE DAMAGED. NOTE OPENNESS OF STAND
AND ABSENCE OF YOUNG GROWTH. WESTERN

FLORIDA.

. SELKCTIVE CUTTING

IN OLD GROWTH YELLOW PINE IN SOUTH CARO-
LINA. THIS TREE IS ECONOMICALLY MATURE AND
ITS REMOVAL WILL PERMIT INCREASED GROWTH IN
THE SMALLER TREES.

these second-growth forests, which have
been subjected to ground fires and graz-
ing, reproducing a timber supply f
The Forest Service has just completed
its forest survey, or stock-taking, of the
timber resources of the lower South, and
finds that over most of the longleaf-pine
belt the average stand per acre is about
1,500 board feet of saw-timber and 2.7
cords of wood in trees of less than saw-
timber size. If the whole stand were cut
for pulpwood it would make only 6 or 7
cords per acre. That is a miserably low
yield, and it would not pay to grow such
stands under forest management. Com-
pare it with yields of second-growth
white pine in the NortheH.st, where
stands fifty to sixty years old often yield
50,000 board feet to the acre, or with the
** cultured spruce forests of central
Europe, where yields of 140,000 board
feet per acre are regularly obtained, and
that on soils which are naturally no more
fertile than those of our Southern pine*
lands. Such high yields may never be
produced by longleaf pine eveii^ ipder
the most favorable conditions, but yield
tables for our Southern pines recently
compiled by the Forest Service show that
fully stocked stands of longleaf may be
expected to yield 45,000 board feet of
timber per acre in an eighty-year rota-
tion, or forty cords of peeled pulpwood
per acre in forty years, and fifteen cords
in twenty years. Shortleaf, loblolly and
slash pines all produce considerably
higher yields. These four Southern
pines are all valuable timber species and
as a group rank among the most rapidly
growing timber trees of the United
States. Longleaf and slash pine, yield-
ing crops of both turpentine and timber,
are the famous dual-purpose trees.
All four species can be used for making
the kind of paper pulp from which
^^kraft’’ paper is manufactured. That
is the brown paper used for wrapping
packages and for paper bags, and the
same piilp is also used for making cord*
board, the fiber-board cartons and many

THE FUTURE OF FORESTRY AND GRAZING

249

other articles. The South has already
captured the kraft-paper industry.
More than forty mills are now in opera-
tion in this region, making? either the
pulp only or both the pulp and finished
paper products. Between Virprinia and
Texas at least sixteen new mills have
been built during? the past two years.
For 1938 the consumption of pulpwood
was estimated to be between six and
seven million cords.

The lumbermen throughout the South
are panic-stricken over the rivalry tliey
are encountering from the pulp mills for
raw material. And now that the experi-
ments of the late Dr. Charles Herty indi-
cate that a good grade of newsprint can
be made at low cost from Southern pine,
the prospects are excellent for a general
migration of the newsprint-paper indus-
try to the Southern states within the
next decade or so. That will surely
eventuate if the paper manufacturers
can be assured of a permanent supply
of pulpwood for their mills. But can
theyt What will be the drain on the
Southern pine forest when the newsprint
mills compete with the kraft mills for
raw material f The production of news-
print paper far exceeds that of kraft.
The capital required to build and equip
a paper mill runs from seven to ten mil-
lion dollars or more, and it does not pay
to invest that amount unless a long life
can be assured to the enterprise. Dr.
Herty has been quoted as saying that a
tract of 45,000 acres will supply enough
wood perpetually for a mill of 150 tons
daily capacity. (Many of the new kraft
mills have a daily capacity of 800 tons.)
But that could only be done on a tract
that was organised and systematically
developed for continuous production
under intensive forest management. It
would not pay to reproduce such stands
as composed the bulk of the pine barrens
even before the lumbermen cut them
over, nor would sUeh stands maintain a
paper industry for any great length of
time.

WINDTHROWN LONGLEAP PINE TREE

DUE TO BOXING FOR TURPENTINE FOLLOWED BY
FIRE. WESTERN FLORIDA.

YELLOW FINE RBPROPUCTION

THIRTY YEARS OLD. ON AN AEANDONSD OLD fXlLD
NEAR ICILVON, FliOamA. SOME DAICAQB FROM
EARLIER FIRBS. STAl^b TOO NBNSE AND IN NEED

OF THINNING.

250

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Bat to revert to the grazing baainesa,
> which has always been important in the
. South and has good prospects of becom-
ing more important in the future if
properly developed. The opening para-
graphs of this article suggested the age-
long conflict between the stockman and
the forester, a conflict .that was being
waged in the Old World for centuries
before America was discovered. The
cool, moist climate of Scotland indicates

^ V ^ V

that it would naturally be a forested
country, and the Scottish highlands
were originally covered with detise for-
ests. But through centuries of sheep-
grazing the forests were gradually de-
stroyed and for several hundred years
those hills have been covered with grass
and heather. Sheep are more destruc-
tive to the forest than cattle, but con-
tinual burning and grazing will bring
our Southern pine forests to a similar
fate. The lohgleaf-pine forest is not so

much the forest that fire made as it is
the forest that fire made poor, and is
making poorer from decade to decade
when considered as timber-producing
property. The director of the recent for-
est survey states in his report: ^‘An
examination of the second-growth forests
throughout the belt in both pine and
hardwoods shows that much of the area
is less than half stocked. Besides being
poorly stocked, many of our young for-
ests are filled with cull trees, trees of
stunted growth, and trees that are of
poor quality and low value for industrial
use. . . . The greatest proportion of
clear-cut and non-restocked area is
found in the naval-stores belt where, in
some localities, the long-continued prac-
tice of systematic woods-burning has
prevented the re-stocking of cut-over
land or brought about a worthless cover
of scrub oak.”

The European forester hates to see

THE BESULT OE PEOTBOTION AGAINST PIBE8 IN SOUTH GBOBGIA .

TO THE LEFT OF THE FIBE LIKE, A OEMBE POLE STAITO OP SIiASB PmS. TO TUB BIOBT, fUDqUBimT
BVBKBD-OVER, SPARSE, STUKTBO PIKE SAPUSOS AKO TAMOtlS OF SBDOl GRASS.

THE FUTURE OP FORESTRY AND GRAZING

251

BUCKING A TREE UP INTO 8AWLOG8

THXHR LABOR TREES YIELD CLEAB LOOS AND HIGH-

OBADE LUMBER.

KrasK on his forest floor as much as a
market (lardener hates to see weeds in
his onion beds. Grass robs the soil of
both food and moisture that the trees
need for making their best growth, and
seriously retards or often prevents repro-
duction. Recause of years of such mis-
treatment our Southern woodlands are
yielding only a small fraction of the tim-
ber they are capable of producing if
well protected and properly managed.
Neither is the use of fire necessary in
order to regenerate the forest to pine.
The forester knows how to reproduce
stands of pure pine or any other desir-
able specks witiiout resorting to fire.

But, on the oGier hand, the foresters
should concede Giat in tryii^ to con-
vince the stockmen of the evils of woods
burning they started off on the wrong
track. It is bad for the trees but good
for the grass. Since writing his article
on the forest that fire made. Hr. Greene
baa released from time to time further

A FINE STAND OF LONOLEAF PINE

ENTIBBLT KILLED BY ONE BAD EIRE. NimTHEABT-

ERN FLORIDA.

•

statements® concerning the results of his
researches, which may be briefly sum-
marized as follows : Cattle gained 45 per
cent, more when grazed on areas that
liad been burned than on unburned
areas. The growth of grass was more

^ The latest pnblieation bearing on this sub-
Jeot is Technical Bulletin No. 093 of the U. 8.
Department of Agricvdture, published in June,
1939, entitled Effect of Fire and Cattle Gras*
ing on Longleaf Pine Lands as Studied at
McNeiU, Mississippi,” by W. G. Wahlenberg,
of the JToMt Service, 8. W. Greene^ of ^e
Bureau of 'Animal Industry, and H. B. Beed,
of the Bureau of Plant thdustry. . This is a
62-page bulletin describing in detail the experi-
ment that was conducted at the Mississii^i
Agricultural Experiment Station f ten yeari||
from 1923 to 1033, on four sample areas repre^
seating, respectively, burned pasture, unbnrned
pasture, burned uugrased and unbumed un-
grased land. Ihe results of this ^aborate in-
vestigation may be briedy summarised in the
slatement that annual burning in^prdves ^e
grazing but is detrimental to the regeneration
of the pine. Which dmply corroborates the
consensus of opinion long held by iatettigent
observers throughout the Southern pine region.

252

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

OPEN OBOWTH TURPENTINE ORCHARD IN lONGLBAP PINE VIRGIN FOREST

ON CHOCTAWHATCHB® NATIONAI. rOBKMT, rLOKIOA. FIBBT TBAE OF COTMNO. NOTE I.OW POSITION

OP CUPS AND NABBOW STBKAKS.

than twice as heavy on the burned than
on the unbumed area, and there were
nearly three times as many legume
plants on the burned areft. Ajoalysis of
the forage also showed that the grasses
from the burned areas were much higher
in feeding values.

When the foresters came South and
appraised, as they did very quickly, the
enormous damage to growing timber that
was done by woods-bumi|ig, they tried
to convert the stockmen from that prac-
tice by preaching to them . that these *
ground fires were, detrimental to the
grazing as well as to ^e timber. They
never met with much success ip convert-
ing the men whose interests were B(fiely
in cattle, and now the practice of the
live-stock men is confirmed by expert
authority. It is a necessary practice in
a humid region with naturally dense
forest growth if live stock are to be
grazed in the woods. The forest mnst

simply be converted into wooded pasture
land. With landowners, however, who
were more interested in raising timber
than cattle, whether for naval stores,
saw-timber or pulpwood, the foresters
were more successful, and only , a few
years of protectimi were enough to con-
vince these people that fire-suppression
on their lands was a good thing for them.
. Woodlands make poor pastures, and
the grazing of woodlands will result in
poor crops of timber. Even if not sub-
jected to annual burning a heavily
grazed tract of timber will rapidly de-
teriorate. Pasturing and timber produc-
tion can not be practised on the same
land except to their mutual disadvan-
tage. The conclusion is evident. The
production of timber for commercial
purposes and the raising of live stock
should be conducted on separate areas.
In many parts of the Bonth that goal can
not be reached in a year or a decade, but

THE FUTURE OF FORESTRY AND GRAZING

253

it ifi the goal toward whioh we should
persisteutly work. And the change will
be greatly accelerated through the pres-
sure exerted by the pulp mills in their
efforts to acquire large tracts of land on
which to grow their pulpwood. Whether
the land be owned by the pulp company
or by others who will make a business
of growing pulpwocxl as a crop and sell-
ing it to the mills, the signs are plain
that enormous areas in the Southern
pine belt will be devoted to that purpose
in the near future. That will call for
good silvicultural practice on all such
lands in order to assure satisfactory
yields, and that will mean not only the
suppression of forest fires but the total
exclusion of grazing.

There is another forest industry in
this region that utilizes large amounts
of land — ^the time-honored ** naval
stores^’ industry, now centered in south-

ern Georgia and Florida. In these two
states and the southern part of South
Carolina about 90 per cent, of the" valu-
able naval stores (principally turpentine
and rosin) are produced. It has beeu ^
estimated that in this region 75 or 80 per
cent, of the pine forests are controlled
by men engaged in naval stores produc-
tion. And it is in this naval stores area
that a number of large pulp mills have
recently been built. The pulp people
have been getting some wood from the
turpentine men in the form of worked-
out trees, but they will find that they
can not depend on this source for very
much raw material. For a turpentine
orchard — as such a property is usually
called — is exactly what that name im-
plies, it is more of an orchard than a
forest and is as ill-conditioned to pro-
duce large and continuous crops of
either saw-timber or pulpwood as a

CB 08 S SECTION OF BUTT OF FIBE-DAMAGBD YELLOW PINE

KOTE SCARS rSOU A3M FXRSS AND SIGNS OT GRUB BAICAGX ANX) ROT^ BOTH ArotR-RFPXCTS OF FIRR.

HALF THE CROSS-SBOTIONAL AREA OF TBR LOG IB WASTRB,

254

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

A TEN-YEAR-OLD PI^NTATION OP SLASH PINE NEAR HOMBERVILLE, GA.

THIS PLANTATION IS ABOUT READT TO BE THINNED AND THE EEMOTED MATBEIAL WILL nND

A UAEKET AS PULPWOOD AND nSEWOOD.

CLP PIELD STAND OP DONQLBAP, IN SOUTHEAST OBOHOIA

A TRINKINO HAS BSSK MADE, REMOVIMO MATERIAL LABOR EMOtTOH W<» VtJhFWQOID* THE RRMAHI-

IHO TREES WILL FTIT OH IHCRBA81D OIOWTS.

THE FUTUEE OP FORESTRY AND GRAZING

255

heavily i^razed woodland. To get maxi-
mum production of naval stores requires
an open, oreharddike stand of trees with
full crowns. It requires twenty to
twenty-five years for the slash and long-
leaf pine to reach a profitable size for
turpentining. Prom then on, by using
the most improved methods, the trees
may be profitably worked for twenty-five
or thirty years. But a crop of pulpwood
can be grown and harvested every
twenty or twenty-five years. The pulp
mills will find that they must grow their
own timber or obtain it from people who
make a business of growing it for them.

But there is plenty of land in the
South for all the timber that could be
profitably grown and all the live stock
that could be profitably raised. With
the cattle tick eradicated the natural con-
ditions are highly favorable for the de-
velopment of a fiourishing live-stock
industry. Moreover, pioneer days have
passed and we are entering a new era
in agriculture. We know that it does not
pay to raise the kind of stock that is
usually found grazing in the piney
woods. Over a hundred years ago it was
recognized by competent judges of live
stock that the cattle which were brought
up in our Southern woodlands were the
scrubbiest of scrub stock, as most of them
are to-day. In 1815 William Johnson,
of South Carolina, a justice of the
United States Supreme Court, in ad-
dressing an agricultural society in
Charleston, spoke of the range cattle
*Hhat ordinarily disgrace our cowpens.’’
To-day bteef cattle of the pine lands are
worth only one third as much as corn-
belt cattle. And as for dairy cows, a
present-day Carolinian who was brouglit
up among the pine woods stock recently
remarked to ^e writer:^* At the best,
we^d get about a gill of blue milk a day.
from each critter/’

The plain fact is that ranging stock
over forest land is a backwoods method,
wbioh may have been justified imder
pioneer conditions but can be justified

COMPLETE DEVASTATION

IN THE YELLOW PINE BELT OF CENTRAL LOUISUNA
AFTER DESTRUCTIVE LUMBERING FOLLOWED BY
FIRES. NO SEED TREES REMAIN; THE LAND WILL
LIE BARREN UNTIL ARTIFIOULLY REFORESTED.
TYPK^AL OF HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF ACRES
IN THE COASTAL PliAIN.

A TORE-KILLED POLE STAND

OF SBORTLEAF ms IK ARKANSAS.

4 "

256

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

TTPICAL SOUTH GEOEGIA POLE STAND

WBICa HAti'BSEN FSOTECTRO FBOU FtHE.

no longer. Suceessful live-stock raking
to-day can be accomplished only by
grazing the stock in permanent open
pastures and by growing forage crops.
The county agricultural agents in every
Southern state are advocating perma-
nent improved pastures, and the most,
progressive farmers and cattle men are
providing them, Not only k the actual
amount of forage much less in woodlands
than in open pastures, but the feeding
value of forage plants grown under
forest shade is much less than if grown
in full sunlight. It k commonly esti-
mated that a good open pasture will sup-
port ten times as many head of cattle as
the same area of woodland pasture, but
the ratio will depend largely on the
density of the woods. The more open the ■
stand the more abundant will be the
growth of grass, but the yield of timber
will be proportionally less and the qual-
ity poorer. A well-managed forest in a
humid country like the South wili not
support any grazing, for there will be
no grass.

It is true that live stock are benefited

AN OPEN VIRGIN STAND OP LONGLEAP

ON THE CHOCTAWHATCHEE NATIONAI. FOREST.

by some shade in hot weather. This
should be provided by single trees scat-
tered here and there over the pasture,
and by grove-like strips of trees along
streams. Such tree-growth should be
regarded as permanent pasture “fix-
tures” and never cut for timber.

The practice of forestry means the
raising of timber in successive crops, and
if our Southern woodlands be adequately
protected from fire and properly han-
dled, timber will be one of the South’s
most important and profitable crops. It
will provide the permanent basis for
large lumbering, paper and naval stores
industries. But a goodly portion of this
r^on should also be in permanent
pastures, raising large herds of both beef
and dairy cattle. The future prosperity
of the rural South depends very largely
upon the wise development of both these
resources. There is plenty of land on
which to devdop both the South's mag-
nificent forest resources and a splendid
live-stock industry without mixing the
two on the same areas to their mutual
detriment.

SCIENCE PROGRESS THROUGH PUBLICITY

By AUSTIN H. CLARK

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

Since the beginning of the present
century scientific advance has been
greater than in all the hundreds of
,A'ears preceding— or at least since the
discovery of fire and the first fashioning
of tools. This advance of scientific
knowledge is bringing with it certain
elements of danger^ for the further we
advance in any scientific line the fewer
are those able to follow the increasing
multiplicity of detail and to understand
the increasingly complex principles in-
volved. Research workers are therefore
ruuniug the risk of becoming isolated
from the general mass of the population
in our social order.

This risk is real. For unless any given
group within a social unit is recognized
as contributing to the material or spiri-
tual welfare of that unit, sooner or later
it will be in danger of elimination. The
liistory of science in England before the
Restoration and its development after the
accession of Charles II, and the very
varying status of scientific research in
the different countries of the world to-
day, show us that scientific advance, at
least in certain lines, is conditioned by
the attitude toward it on the part of the
general mass of the population as re-
flected by their chosen representatives.

We also learn from history that a lib-
eral attitude toward science may at any
time change to a more or less restrictive
or suppressive attitude. This has hap-
pened in recent years in various sections
of the United States as well as elsewhere.

We live in a democracy. In a healthy
democracy all groups within the popula-
tion must do their share toward further-
ing the common goofi of all, in accord-
ance with their special and diverse abili-
ties. Each group must win and bold the

confidence and respect of all the other
groups. If science is to prosper and to
advance, the population as a whole must
take an interest in and appreciate the
work done by our scientific men and
women. The people must see in scientific
work something of value to themselves.
They must envision science as continually
leading the way to better things — ^to an
easier, safer, more satisfying existence.

Popular interest in science is twofold.
In the first place, there is the purely
material interest based upon the advan-
tages to be gained in increased comforts,
and in increased opportunities for
broader social and other contacts, such
as, for instance, those afforded by the
automobile and by the radio. To these*
we may add the potentiality for economic
betterment, and the increase in personal
welfare and security resulting from ad-
vances in our knowledge of the several
branches of science that collectively make
up medicine.

In the second place, there is the inter-
est that is wholly non-material. To
every one it is a source of satisfaction
to know that we are pushing ever for-
ward into the realm of the unknown the
boundaries of our knowledge. And as
we do this, we are at the same time open-
ing up new vistas of the unknown, be-
yond which we sense the vast realm of
the unknowable.

We can never know everything. The
more we learn, the more clearly do we
appreciate the infinitdr extent of that
which W9 can never know. Instead of
graduaiiy confining the human mind
between barriers of facts and formulae,
science leads us on to a more satisfying
contemplation of the infinite.

Oidy a few years ago this broadening

f ••

256

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

of the intellectual horizon was confined
to those actively engaged in science, or
closely associated with the students of
science. And these alone appreciated
the potentialities of scientific advance in
its social and economic aspects. But now
this knowledge is being broadcast to all
our people so that every one may under-
stand and every one may benefit.

This exposition of the advance of
science is being carried out as a coopera-
tive enterprise. Increasing numbers of
our scientific men and women are willing
to let others know what they are doing.
By the members of the National Asso-
ciation of Science Writers their work is
accurately interpreted and expressed in
popular language that all may under-
stand. Because of their importance to
the general public, the accounts written
by the science writers are laid before the

public by the editors of our newspapers
and our magazines.

This cooperation between the research
workers, the science writers and the
editors has proved of great benefit not
only to the people, but to science itself.
Frequently it has happened that a story
written by one or more science writers
has stimulated such general interest in
a subject that a flood of additional infor-
mation became almost immediately avail-
able, or further investigation was greatly
facilitated as a result of popular demand.
Without such an awakening of public
interest it would have taken many years
to have acquired the knowledge that we
have to-day.

Out of the many cases available I shall
take two that have occurred within the
past few years, one showing how the dif-
fusion of knowledge through the press

IN THE NATIOKAL ASSOCIATION OF SClSNCfi WIITSES^ AT TUB TABtiB, TO BIOKT, KB. JOVOt J*

O’NEILL, SGIBNGB EBITOB, iftW YwlC SetM THhuM ; HE. BAVIiy IBBTE, SCIBNCB El>IT(Mt, SOBIFFS*
HOWARD newspapers; MR. WILLUX L. LAtfRBNOB, SCSEKOB NEWS BDITOB, NeW TCfh Time$;
SEATED, BETWEEN HESSES. O’NEILL AND DUBTZ, HR. HOWARD W. BtAKBSLBB, SOIBNOB BDirOE,. ASSO*
CIATBD PRESS; ICR. OOBIND BBBARI LAL, SCIBNCB BDITOB, INTBENATIONAL NEWS SERVICE, IS NOT
SHOWN. OTHERS IN THE PIOTUBB ARB MB. WATSOH DAVIS, DIBBCTOB, SCIBNCB BSBVIOB, BBTmCB
left; and dr. SIDNEY S. NBOtTS, MEDICAL COUiBOE ^ VIBOnriA, ZXTMMB BIOHT.

SCIENCE PBOGEESS THBOUQH PUBLICITY

259

has helped pure science, the other shovr-
iag its effect on applied science.

In 1926 there was discovered at Fol-
som, New Mexico, in association with the
bones of an extinct bison, an arrow-point
of a type quite different from the usual
Indian projectile point. In 1928 this dis-
covery received much publicity in our
press. In the spring of 1934 one of
these so-called Folsom points was discov-
ered near Richmond, Virginia. This
find, announced in the press by the
science writers, attracted immediate at-
tention all over the country, with the
result that many notices of the discovery
of similar points were received at the
Smithsonian Institution.

From these notices, verified by the
specimens submitted, it was learned that
arrow-points of this type are pretty
widely distributed over the country,
though chiefly east of the Rocky Moun-
tains, and furthermore an extensive
camping place of Folsom man — ^the now
famous Lindenmeier site — was located in
northern Colorado and brought to the
attention of the Smithsonian Institution.

Thus our present knowledge of the
interesting and unique Folsom culture,
the earliest human culture in North

America of irhich we have any evidence,
bas been pieced together almost entirely
from facts brought to light primarily as
a result of the work of the National
Association of Scienm Writers.

Pure science is profiting more and
more through the cooperation of the
research workers, the science writers and
the editon. The benefits of this coopera*
tion have been even more marked in ap-
plied science. Let' us take an e»unple
team the field of medieine. There is
nothing that appeals to us more strongly
than the sUeviation of human sufifermg,
and it ia in this field that the scieince
writers have dmie some of their most out-
standing work.

ago it siris noticed on battle-
grounds that wounds infected with the

larvae of blow-flies healed more readily
than uninfected wounds. But this knowl-
edge was not put to practical use un^
about a decade ago. In 1929 Dr. W. S.
Baer published in the Southern Medical
Journal a description of a new and un-
usual treatment for slow-healing wounds,
such 88 the persistent and wide-spread
bone disease known as osteomyelitis.
The treatment consisted in placing sterile
blow-fiy larvae directly in the wounds
that had failed to heal under other treat-
ment. After a few applications of the
larvae the wounds in general became
cleaner, and healing began to take place.

Investigations were undertaken to de-
termine the substance or substances in
the secretions of these larvae responsible
for the beneficial effect. One of the sub-
stances was found to be allantoin, easily
produced sj’uthetieally.

In 1935 Dr. William Robinson pub-
lished an account of healing in non-heal-
ing wounds resulting from the applica-
tion of allantoin. This was at once given
wide publicity by the science writers,
and accounts of Dr. Robinson’s work
appeared in newspapers and other jour-
nals at intervals throughout the follow-
ing year.

As a consequence of these accounts, a
large number of physicians and surgeons
obtained allantoin and used it clinically,
and many inquiries were received from
people who wished to treat themselves;
furthermore, a number of chemical and
pharmaceutical companies undertook the
manufacture of synthetic allantoin, and
of various preparations containing it.

This is an excellent example of how the
seieuee writein have tud^ in bringing
into general tise within a very short time
a valuable curative ag^nt.

The importance of the work of the
semnce Vhriters in this connection is em-
phasixed by the fact that the use of aUan-
toin bad been suggested long ago. In
1912, before the inception of modem
scienee reporting. Dr. C. <J. Maoalister in

260

THE SCTENTIFIO MONTHLY

au artide in the British Medical Journal
had reported the successful use of allan-
toin in the treatment of chronic ulcers.
But his work attracted little attention at
the time and was soon forgotten.

. In August, 1936, attention was called
to the remarkable healing properties of
urea, another substance present in the
excretions of bl ow-fly larvae. The science
writers gave this discovery also extensive
publicity, and urea is now receiving wide
attention by the medical profession, with
very encouraging results.

In the history of modern science
writing there are many cases such as
these. Science and the press are now
united in a partnership that is becoming
closer every year.

To every one interested in the advance
of science it is a source of the greatest
satisfaction to note that tangible recog-
nition of the iniportance and value of
the work of the members of the National
Association of Science Writers is increas-
ing. Honorary degrees and memberships
in scientific societies and scientific clubs
are being conferred upon them. No less
than five of them liave received the
Pulitzer Prize for the excellence of their
work. A few months ago the association
as a whole was honored by the award of
the Clement Cleveland medal for out-
standing work during the preceding year
in the campaign to control cancer. It
may be of interest to add that many of
our research workers, as well as inter-
ested laymen, are now with complete con-
fidence keeping themselves in touch with

scientific advances in lines other* than

their own by reading the uotioes in the
daily press.

Now it is self-evident that the increas-
ing success of the scienee writers in'pre-

senting science to tiie American peoide
in accurate and readable form has bean
made possible by the increasingly sjnnpa-
thetic attitude of the enlightened editors
of our newspapers and magasines, who
see more and more dearly that science,
accurately displayed in their pages, is
not only of interest but also of value to
the public.

With our corps of able scienee
writers and our intelligent and appre-
ciative editors we may hopefully look
forward to the future, provided we who
are engaged in scientific research do our
part. We must continually bear in mind
that we are an integral part of the society
in which we live, not a select or selected
group, and that others are quite property
interested in what we do, just as we are
interested in what our fellow eitisens are
doing.

But in connection with our scientific
work we speak a dialect incomprehensible
to most of the other elements of the com-
munity, and our method of thought is
along channels with which the average
man is almost wholly unfamiliar. So we
need interpreters. These interpreters we
have in our science writers who under-
stand our language and also the language
and the mental attitude of the general
public, with which we are more or less
unfamiliar.

Our duty to the community in which
we live, to science, and to ourselves, is
to take the public completely into our
confidence and to provide the interpreters
— ^the scimice writers — ^with all the mate-
rial they can use. In bringing science to
the people we have already xnade enor-
mous progress. The l^undwork is now
complete; but much stfil remains to be
done to perf^ the superstructure.

OCEAN PASTURAGE IN CALIFORNIA WATERS'

By W. E. ALLEN

8CBIFPB INSTITUTION OF OCBANOO&APHT OF THE UNIVKRBITT OF CALIFORNIA

Fob ages, seafaring men have had
their interest stirred, at certain times
and places by conspicuous conditions
of the sea due to the presence of mi-
croscopic plants ( phytoplankton ) . Most
often, their attention has been at-
tracted by very distinct discolorations
(“red water,” “brown water,” “yellow
water,” etc.), although the odor of sea
water has been strongly prominent also
sometimes (“stinking water”). In ad-
dition, there have been times and places
when fishermen have had trouble in
handling their nets or gear because of
coatings of slimy material consisting of
microscopic plants. Such experiences
alone are sufficient to raise questions
concerning the causes and relationships
of the observed conditions.

In more recent years, because of in-
creasing attention to details of ocean
characteristics, less conspicuous occur-
rences and displays of phytoplankton
phenomena have led to comprehensive
studies of the microscopic plants and
their activities. From such studies it
has come to be understood that phyto-
plankton distribution in seasons (or
other periods), in depths, in locali-
ties and in latitudes has direct rela-
tionships to movements of air and
water masses (regular i^nd irregular,
systemic and turbulent), and that it
both influences and is influenced by tur-
bidity, density, temperature, light, dis-
solved substances, co-existent organisms
and indeflnite numbers of other chem-
ical, physical and biological character-
istics of sea water. In particular it is
generally recognized to-day that phyto-
plankton coiistitutes the basic food

1 Oontributions from the Seripps Institution
of Oeeanographj, New Series, No. 122.

supply (ocean pasturage) which directly
or indirectly furnishes sustenance for
commercial fishes and other animals at
the same time that it draws much of its
own sustenance from them. Not only
so, but phytoplankton furnishes much of
the food used by sedentary animals
useful for human food (oysters, etc.) or
harmful to human enterprise (“fouling
organisms” so injurious to ship bottoms
and other structures exposed to attack).

As recently as 1919 practically noth-
ing was known concerning phytoplank-
ton in the Pacific Ocean. Indeed, an
authoritative paper published in Phila-
delphia as late as 1927 commented on
the small numbers of kinds of diatoms
and their thinness of population in
the Pacific, although local investigations
were already showing the contrary fact
for this most important contributing
group. Because of the necessity of
Imowing names and identities when dis-
cussing or investigating the relation-
ships of any natural object or group of
objects to conditions in the sea much
time had to be given to mere identifica-
tion and naming of specimens in the
first few years of researches at the
Seripps Institution of Oceanography at
La Jolla, California. Thereby it was
found that although more than two
hundred species of phytoplankton or-
ganisms live in the East Pacific, less
than fifty species ever become so abund-
ant as to attract special attention, even
from specialists. Although diatoms are
distinctly most important in most years
in most localities, the group of dino-
flagellates sometimes takes a temporary
lead in production of ocean pasturage.

Fortunately, while learning identities,
it was possible to accumulate other

262

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

kinds of data concerning the compon-
ents of phytoplankton. The records
showed that no single species was ever
able to hold tlie lead in production over
a long period of time, rarely longer than
ten days. Also it appeared that pro-
duction tended to be best before July,
although there might be a difference of
a week or two in this tendency at two
stations only a little more than one hun-
dred miles apart. Twenty years of in-
vestigations have revealed that no two
years were alike at either of two stations
and that two years of unusually warm
water (1926 and 1931) were poorly pro-
ductive of both diatoms and dinoflagell-
ates at both stations.

About three thousand catches by boat
at offshore stations have shown that phy-
toplankton may reach notable abund-
ance more than one hundred miles from
shore and at depths as great as seventy
meters, large numbers, however, rarely
being taken below fifty meters. Some-
times many diatoms appear at lower
levels though few at the surface, some-
times many appear at the surface when
numbers are small below, and sometimes
rather large numbers may be found at
all seven of the levels sampled at a
particular station. Unexpectedly, large
numbers in good condition are taken
sometimes from levels below large num-
bers in poor condition. As a matter of
fact, no large numbers of specimens in
dead or decadent condition have been
observed below any dense population in
vigorous condition, although one might
suppose that many would die and sink.

A notable difference of abundance of
phytoplankton between two stations in-
dicates a difference between them in re-
spect to chemical composition of the
water, physical constitution of water
masses, behavior of water masses, cli-
mate or meteorological conditions, or
animal populations. If such a differ-
ence in phytoplankton populations does
no more than prevent hasty or rigid

conclusions and inferences from being
asserted on the basis of close sixnilarity
of too few chemical or physical observa-
tions, it is worth something. When it
confirms the validity of an observation
of an unexpected difference in those con-
ditions it becomes distinctly helpful.
That is to say, microscopic plants natu-
rally detect and respond to chemical and
physical conditions of their environment
which are too delicate for one to detect
by routine methods in a ‘ laboratory.
Therefore, proper attention to their re-
sponses to unnoted changes in those con-
ditions may lead to correct interpreta-
tions or to changes in routine which
lead to better if not to full under-
standing.

In some localities most of the oxygen
in sea water is derived from the air. In
other localities (or at certain periods)
most of it is derived from phytoplank-
ton. In the one case no immediate effect
on the chemical composition of sea water
is necessarily involved in the processes
of introduction.

In the other case, incident and im-
mediate changes occur in substances con-
taining carbon, sometimes involving in-
definite series of chemical changes in
surrounding sea water. So far, no one
has ever evaluated the contribution of
oxygen by phytoplaxikton in the ocean
although chemists, physicists and biolo-
gists are agreed that in the matter of
oxygen transfer alone the microscopic
plants hold a prominent place in the
network of environmental influences.
Although the twenty years of phyto-
plankton research have shown conclu-
sively that periodicity of production and
occurrence is not predictable for any
restricted or specific place or depth
level, they have shown that cloudlike
aggregations of diatoms and dinoflag-
ellates run a course of increase and
development during which much might
be learned about the influences of phy-
toplankton through oxygen production

OCEAN PASTURAGE IN CALIFORNIA WATERS

263

(and consumption). While the require-
ments of trustworthy investigations of
this problem under natural conditions
may be too expensive at present, it is
none the less true that the opportunity
exists.

Similar statements may be made con-
cerning investigations of occurrence and
distribution of carbon, phosphorus, ni-
trogen and their compounds as well as
other elements and substances not men-
tioned so frequently. Although many
people seem to feel confident that rela-
tionships of influences of temperature
may be easily detected, described, and
evaluated, it is more probable that a
clear understanding of any but the
grossest manifestations of temperature
conditions is very difficult to obtain.
Still, there is no doubt of the fact
that adequate phytoplankton data may
aid substantially in understanding co-
incidental phenomena of temperature.
Probabilities seem to be even better for
such influences as viscosity, density and
light.

Repeated cruises continue to show
that phytoplankton abundance has a
recognizable relationship to turbulence,
upwelling, oceanic drift and to major
and minor currents. It is entirely rea-
sonable to expect that understanding of
these relationships will improve rapidly
as more data of the same kind as those
yielding these results are accumulated.

So far, inshore and oifshore conditions
are not clearly understood as to manner
and degree of influence but much is
apparent already in fact. For example,
certain species which reach abundance
offshore are rarely noticeable inshore
(and vice versa). Also, certain locali-
ties near shore appear to be more pro-
ductive at certain periods or seasons
while certain localities offshore appear
to be more productive at other periods
or seasons. Here there can be no ques-
tion that familiarity with phytoplankton
populations in their native habitats will

help to clarify these relationships either
when time and effort can be spared for
them directly or as data accumulate
otherwise. Possibly even better progress
can be made toward understanding of
characteristics of deeps and shallows by
giving careful attention to phytoplank-
ton relationships in or about them.

Practically nothing is known concern-
ing the more direct effects of run-off
from land, not to mention the indirect
effects. Even Oran appears to have re-
jected an earlier opinion that run-off
enriched sea water, but it is surely rea-
sonable to suppose that this enrichment
ensues, nevertheless. Whatever the facts
may be, it seems certain that the phyto-
plankton must be depended upon for
evidence leading to a final solution.
Doubtless this solution will be delayed "a
long time because of cost of specific
researches required by it, but the phy-
toplankton data accumulated by the
Scripps Institution affords a sound
foundation upon which to base the
necessary investigations, not only of the
nutrient influences of run-off but also
of dilution and sedimentation influences.

To geologists (especially petroleum
geologists) plankton diatoms are highly
interesting because of their relationship
to problems of oil-producing sediments.
If one can learn why diatom frustules
are deposited here and not there, and
why sometimes no diatom deposits can
be found at or near localities which are
known to yield them abundantly, he
may be able to account for some of the
vagaries of deposition. Some of the ob-
served conditions of occurrence suggest
the probability that many diatom frus-
tules dissolve during long support or
transport without sinking to the bottom,
thus maintaining in the water a fair
supply of siliceous material to be tised
by their own kin.

So far Scripps Institution work on
phytoplankton has contributed nothing
to direct knowledge concerning the con-

264

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

tinuous series of changes of organic
wastes in the sea. We know that the
little plants must use other things be-
sides carbon dioxide, but we do not
know what forms of the various sub-
stances are most valuable in their activi-
ties, nor how they meet fluctuations in
amounts of preferred materials. How-
ever, the records of occurrence of phy-
toplankton bring necessary information
to the point where intelligent selection
of species and localities may be made
for conducting observations.

Concerning relationships with other
organisms much that has been said above

will apply. However, it seems probable
that phytoplankton data are even more
important for any one who undertakes
to identify and trace food chains {e.g,
diatoms, copepod, sardine, mackerel,
squid; or diatom copepod, hydroid) in-
volving either free-living or sedentary
animals. Still, the food relationship is
not the only one. For example, re-
searches indicate that phytoplankton
may become so abundant sometimes as
to seriously injure many surrounding
animals, possibly by mere crowding,
possibly by clogging of the gills, possibly
by direct poisoning in some cases.

CENTRALIZED EDUCATION

I HAVE no henitation in saying that the com-
plete domination of education by the state in
Germany was what made it so eai^, when her
war lords had decided to embark upon a career
of world conquest, to obtain the aid of her uni-
versity professors, philosophers, and historians
alike, though not all of them, in spreading der
tag psychology throughout the whole of her
population. 1 myself saw this happening in the
nineties in Germany, and in 1907 I heard the
man they called their greatest historian, Edouard
Meyer, before 2,600 students in Mandel Hall
glory in war and conquest as the finest developer
of a people. That was what made the Great
War,

Today it is very much worse because the

centralization and control of the educational
system enables the gangsters who have seized
control of government to use the whole ma
chinery of education, including the press and
the movie as well as the schools, for indootrina'
tion, instead of education, for substituting for
the free growth of knowledge the rank growth
of ignorance of every fact or idea which could
militate in any way against the interests of the
gangsters and the continuation of their power.
It was because Spinoza saw the inevitability of
this result of a centralized educational system
that he opposed completely the placing of edu-
cation in the hands of the state. — Address by
Dr, Bobert A, Millikan, California Institute of
Technology at Pasadena,

THE ORIGIN OF OUR NUMERALS

By JOHN DAVIS BUDDHUB

PASADENA, CALirORNU

We are accustomed to use two kinds of
numerals with very different histories,
the Roman and the so-called Arabic
numerals. It is probable that neither of
these names is the correct one, for the
Roman numerals appear to be of Etrus-
can origin, with perhaps a trace of Greek,
while the Arabic figures are really of
Indian origin.

To begin with the Roman numerals,
the first three are obviously a representa-
tion of a numerical idea by making an
appropriate number of lines. Four is for
some reason written as 5 - 1. The use of

V for five is said by some to be a symbol
of the hand held up, one arm represent-
ing the thumb and the other, the fingers
bunched together. According to this line
of thought, X is simply two V’s, one of
them inverted. Similarly, C is an abbre-
viation of centum = 100, and M is mille -
1000. Unfortunately, this system does
not account for D = 500 and L = 50, since
neither of these is the proper initial let-
ter. Consequently we must look for
something better as an explanation.

According to the Etruscan system of
numeration, 100 was represented by a
circle divided into quadrants. By remov-
ing the circle X was left and used to rep-
resent ten. Proceeding along these lines,

V was obtained by dividing the X in half,
exactly the reverse of the above incorrect
system of derivation.

For 1000, the Etruscans used a circle
vdth a vertical line dividing it. This was
also adopted by the Romans. Half of the
circle gave D, or 500, and another kind of
division gave an inverted T which was
eventually changed into L, or 50, because
it could be written with pne continuous
line. As for M, we must leave the Ro-
mans and Etruscans and examine some

samples of old printing. For some rea-
son, no one seems to have thought to cast
type for the Etruscan symbol of 1000 and
a makeshift was used thus: CIO. This
was rather cumbersome and was largely
abandoned in favor of M which bore more
or less resemblance to the true sign and
also was the initial letter of mille. C was
originally a circle, but that was liable to
cause confusion with the letter 0 ; there-
fore, C was put in its place because it was
the initial of centum.

The Roman numerals therefore are
hardly alphabetic although the sugges-
tion has been made that the signs for 10,
50 and 100 were derived from the Greek
letters X, V and respectively.

The Indo-Arabic numerals have had
a much more extensive history and few
people would recognize them in most
of their earlier forms. Their ultimate
origin is unknown but some trace them
back to the Egyptian Heiratic and there-
fore to the Heiroglyphic. A better sug-
gestion is certain letters of the Indo-Bac-
trian alphabet. It will be noticed that
the phonetic values of these letters are
given. This is to call attention to the fact
that they are really initial letters for the
number words in Zend or Sanskrit or
both. Thus 45=chathwar (Z), 5 = pan-
chan (Z), 6 = shash (S), 7 = saptan (S),
8=:ashtan (S), 9=:navan (S, Z) and 10
=:dasan (S, Z). Consequently it would
seem that those old Aryans began to
write numbers by drawing a series of
short lines just as the ancient Romans
and Egyptians did, but they soon got
tired of that cumbersome method and
decided to use the initial letters of their
number words instead. That at least was
an improvement over the Greek and Se-
mitic system of using letters for numbers

266

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

that bore no relation to the sounds of the
number words.

Whatever their origin, the earliest
known use of the prototypes of our nu-
merals are found in the Nana Ohat in-
scription of India. Later came the Cave
inscriptions which were made some time
early in the Christian era.

It is important to note that positional
notation was unknown until, probably,
some time in the sixth century a.d. That
is, there was no zero, and ten, eleven, etc.,
were written with separate s3anbols. But
eventually some unknown mathematical
genius invented a zero and the positional
system was born. The invention of zero
was probably a result of the abacus or a
similar device such as a smooth board
covered with sand. The number 204
would be written by making three col-
umns. In the first two lines would be
made, the second would be left blank and
four lines would be made in the last col-
umn. No doubt it occurred to this un-
known mathematician that the same re-
sult could be accomplished by using nu-
merals, provided that there were a sym-
bol to denote the empty column. Thus
zero was bom and named sunya (empty,
blank).

At any rate, the numerals together
with zero were adopted by the Arabs.
They probably learned them from some
mathematical tables brought to Bagdad
by an Indian ambassador in 773 a.d.
From there the knowledge of them
spread slowly over the whole Arabian
world. There were two principal varia^

iNPo-»Aer«iAM

•

— , , INQIOW.,

MooeeN

HieeATic

ALPHAter

CHAT INkC

—

•—

■—

y . <ci»

h • ^

V • *

o . ^

/■

V . *1

tions of these numerals, the Eastern and
the Western or Gobar. The latter word
means dust and suggests that some sort
of sand abacus was known. This variant
was used in Spain by the Moors and in
Africa. It is the prototype from which
our numerals were derived and the re-
semblance to our modem numerals is by
now quite clear.

At the time of the introduction of the
numerals into Europe a modified abacus
was used in which numerals replaced the
counters but zero was represented by an
empty column again. This was used at
Rheims about 970-980 by Qerbert, who
later became Pope Sylvester II, and by
the eleventh century it was well known.
There is no direct evidence to show where
Gterbert learned of it. According to Wil-
liam of Malmesbury he stole it from a
Spanish Arab, but this theory is usually
regarded as a mere fable. Still there is
no known use of the abacus in Europe at
an earlier date except in the Oeometria
attributed to Boetius. If this book is
genuine we have direct evidence that
somehow the Indian numerals got into
Europe in the fifth century, and Qerbert
only resurrected a system forgotten for
400 years, more or less. If this is trae,
then how did Boetius learn of itT He
himself describes it as the system of the
Pythagorici. This suggests that the old
Indian numerals along with the abacus
was introduced into Alexandria some
time before the fourth century a,d. when
communication between India and
Europe ceased. In fact the close resem-

« riOMaN

»e*CfwT

0CVAM4(iAtl

(AST AtABiC 4N0BA4

7 ?

{

€

(.6

c,t

•

Fxo. 1.

Fw. 2.

THE ORIGIN OF OUB NUMERALS

267

MOOtKN

2
)

6ceriv»

ASAftlC

HAUAVAH

. 3.

blance between Boetius’ fig:ures and the
Gobar Arabic has led P, Woepcke to be-
lieve that the western Arabs adopted
their system from Boetius before the In-
dian method with a zero reached them.
There are many difficulties to this view
however, among which is the difficulty in
explaining the rather close resemblance
between the Gobar and the Eastern Ara-
bic system if the two had been separated
for some hundreds of years. Moreover,
the authenticity of the Geometria is not
established, and it is quite possible that
Gerbert or some one else obtained a par-
tial knowledge of the abacus and the nu-
merals from the Arabs but failed to ob-
tain, or to understand, the idea of zero.

Later on the zero was added and the
abacus fell into the discard. Few people
know of it now, except as a plaything
for children. The word zero is of Arabic
origin. When the Arabs obtained the nu-
merals from the Indians they translated
the Indian sunya into their own word
sifr with the same meaning. Wlien the
numerals were introduced into Italy, sifr
was Latinized to zephirum. This hap-
pened some time near the beginning of
the thirteenth century. Various changes
occurred during the next hundred years
ending in the word zero.

However when Jordanus Nemarius in-
troduced the Arabic system into Ger-
many he kept the Arabic word but
changed it into cifra. This word was re-
tained and used as late as the time of
Gauss. In Exiglish, cifra became cipher
and in other parts of Europe we find
chiffre, ziffer, etc. However, there was a
strong tendency for these words to be

MAlAlAft

ftutHIU

TldtTAN

stAMcse

CtYiONCSt

✓

<S)

ITU

<S)

-v

, •

4 .*-

All

tfjJtIO

•

Fio. 4.

taken

mean

‘‘numeraP*

and

not

‘ ‘ zero. ’ ’ The learned knew perfectly well
the true meaning of the word, but the
common people did not, and as a result a
great deal of confusion arose. In fact,
the word even came to signify a secret
sign, hence our word decipher. At last
the confusion was removed by the adop-
tion of the Italian word zero.

It must not be imagined that the trans-
ition from the abacus system used by
Gerbert to the positional numeration of
the present day was easy. It was not.
There was a battle raging between the
abacists, who defended old tradition, and
the algorists, who preferred the newer
system, that lasted for 400 years, from
the eleventh to the fifteenth centuries.
In some places the Arabic numerals were
not allowed to be used on official docu-
ments or were even prohibited altogether.

The Eastern Arabic numerals had
little to do with the development of the
sytem we use although they sprang from
the same source. They did give rise, how-
ever, to the present-day numerals used by
the Persians, Turks, Arabs, in fact, any
one using the Arabic alphabet. In the
figure it will be noted that three forms
are used for the numeral four. Of these,
the first is used by the Malays, the second
by the Arabs and the last by the Persians.
Otherwise, they are the same everywhere
in the Mohammedan world.

I give also the Sanskrit and other ori-
ental numeral systems, all of which are
derived with more or less elaboration
from the same source as our own, namely,
the old Indian numerals. Some of them
still retain a separate sign for ten.

EMERGENT RACES AND CULTURES IN

SOUTH AMERICA

By Dr. JOHN OILLIN

ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF ANTHROPOLOGY, THE OHIO STATE ITNIVERSITY

The tropical lowlands and low pla-
teaus of South America — often referred
to collectively as the Tropical Forest
Region — constitute about half of the
land surface of the southern continent
and the largest continuous natural area
in the Western Hemisphere. Yet this
vast territory is one of the most sparsely
inhabited of the globe and one of the
least exploited '' in terms of human
values, economic or otherwise, either by
its natives or by outsiders. Therein seem
to lie a group of scientific problems
awaiting investigation with which an-
thropologists are particularly fitted to
deal.

Americanists have hitherto been pri-
marily concerned — ^and legitimately so —
with archeological studies, historic re-
constructions and ethnographic investi-
gations of the aboriginal racial groups,
cultures and languages of this part of
the world. It is unlikely that any quali-
fied judge would seriously object either
to the aims or to the results of the larger
portion of this type of work. And all
anthropologists would doubtless agree
that, far from being outmoded or com-
pleted, investigations of the traditional
sort have only begun the great task
which must be accomplished if we are
to have comprehensive answers to the
many questions of aboriginal racial and
cultural development which demand ex-
planation in this region.

On the other hand, it would be strange,
indeed, if cultural anthropologists, of all
people, were unaware of or indifferent to
cultural and social developments taking
place in the world of contemporary
affairs. Recently public interest in

many quarters, and particularly that of
responsible leaders in the United States,
has been increasingly attracted toward
South America. We need not analyze
nor judge the motivations of these in-
terests here. But the fact is evident that
business and financial experts are bestir-
ring themselves over the future of mar-
kets, production and the development of
resources and trade in South America.
Statesmen ostentatiously strive for new
modes of political collaboration. Mili-
tary strategists have evinced a serious
concern with the problems of defense
and attack of the Americas. Cultural
exchange between the various nations of
the Western Hemisphere has been, at
least formally, increased and placed on
a higher plane. Scientists from many
disciplines are enlisted to some extent
in the formulation and solution of newly
significant problems.

Any program of intelligent planning
for human adjustment either for the
present or for the future must rest upon
sound information concerning the physi-
cal composition and cultural and social
development of the population con-
cerned. In providing information of
this kind it seems that anthropology can
make a contribution of tremendous sig-
nificance in South America. It is per-
haps not the function of the anthropolo-
gist to enter partisan controversies, but
he does have the obligation and the tech-
niques to provide a reliable basis of data
upon which politicians and business
men, for example, may act if they will.

It would not be difficult to document
the view that much of the current think-
ing concerning South America is based

RACES AND CULTURES IN SOUTH AMERICA

269

upon lack of realism regarding the
actual anthropological situation in the
southern continent. Such documenta-
tion would consist of the citation of cur-
rent commonplace utterances which,
while widely diffused, smack of the
grossest ignorance. Thus in the United
States it is not uncommon to speak of
Latin American society as resting pri-
marily upon somewhat ‘‘ debased*' Span-
ish and Portuguese institutions. We
tend to think of the nations to the south
in terms of an industrialized urban
society supported by family homestead
farming, which characterizes much of
our own country, and to judge them in
these terms. Misconceptions of a similar
nature are not confined to the United
States, but are likewise predominant in
many South American capitals and cen-
ters of civilization with respect to con-
ditions in the outlying regions. In my
o^vn experience I have found in various
capitals tlie foggiest comprehension of
realities concerning the interior and the
difficulty of finding reliable guides and
information is familiar to most travelers
into tlie interior. Thus in 1934, at least,
the views of the intelligentsia and gov-
ernment experts of Guayaquil and Quito
concerning the Ecuadorian Oriente
could properly be described under the
heading of folk tales and mythology.
Few even of the permanent residents of
Georgetown and the coastal region of
British Guiana in 1933 had any more
precise notion of the interior of their
own country than they had of the in-
terior of New Guinea, with which it is
so often confused by ordinarily intelli-
gent persons in the United States. The
separatist tendency of the Peruvian
montafia, with Iquitos as its center, is
notorious and was in large part respon-
sible for the Leticia incident — ^all largely
due to ignorance in Lima concerning the
eastern part of the country. As Beals
says, South America for the most part
is a peripheral population, a seacoast

population. The interior still has to be
properly settled and exploited.”

Let us consider in more detail the in-
terior and particularly the largest and
least known portion of it, the tropical
lowlands and low plateaus. It is esti-
mated from data by Zon and Sparhawk
in “Forest Resources of the World,”
that from 40 to 50 per cent, of the con-
tinental area of South America is for-
ested, and that by far the greatest por-
tion of this forest cover is of the tropical
lowland or jungle type. Southern Chile
is the only region of extensive forest out-
side the tropical zones, and the Chilean
forest is comparatively insignificant in
terms of square miles. Here we may
focus attention primarily on that portion
of the jungle area comprised within the
drainage of the Orinoco and Amazon,
plus the Guianas. The area thus defined
(Amazon-Orinoco-Guianas) is far larger
than any other in the New World, cov-
ering some 3,240,000 square miles, or
nearly 46 per cent, of the land area of
the continent. Considerable portions of
this vast province are only lightly for-
ested, and some of it is plateau country
(e.p., southern Guiana, parts of Matto
Grosso, etc.), but the major part is typi-
cal jungle.

Anthropologists have been primarily
concerned with the aboriginal tribes of
tliis area, and while a vast amount of
detail remains to be recovered, we must
face the fact that the native population
is relatively small, probably not more
than 300,000 to 500,000 at the most, and
that the density of population of all
types is considerably less than one per
square mile. Furthermore, the Indian
population, or a large part of it, has
been exposed in varying degrees to con-
tact with Europeans for hbout 400 years.
In spite of this scarcity of population,
since the collapse of the rubber boom in
the second decade of this century, the
tropical lowland area has remained one
of the largest blank spaces outside the

270

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

polar regions on the face of the globe, not prosper in the low wet tropics, ap

not only from the point of view of popu-
lation density, but also from that of cul-
tural importance in terms of a world
system dominated by Western civiliza-
tion. Nevertheless it is open to doubt
that this condition will long continue in
a world dominated by expansionist eco-
nomic systems and containing certain
societies seeking “living space. “ The
Belgian Congo, a smaller but environ-
mentally analogous region, supports a
population of over ten million with an
estimated density of about 12 per square
mile, according to the recent comprehen-
sive “An African Survey, “ edited by
Lord Hailey. In view of the fact that
the African tropical forest area, while
generally similar to that of South
America, is if anything a more rigorous
environment for human life, it hardly
seems that the present relative unimpor-
tance of the Amazon-Orinoco-Guiana
region is to be explained entirely on the
basis of environment, but rather in terms
of deficiencies in human stock and cul-
ture.

It is generally conceded that the tropi-
cal lowland area of South America is a
source of considerable potential wealth
in raw materials. Yet it receives little
attention from social scientists other
than ethnologists interested in primitive
tribes, and nearly half of South America
is thus written off as of small immediate
or future importance to human affairs.
The justification for this neglect usually
follows these lines: (1) Natural re-
sources, while abundant, can not be eco-
nomically exploited, due to inaccessibil-
ity, smallness and lack of organization
of the labor force and unprofitable con-
dition of world markets. (2) The stand-
ard of living of the inhabitants is too
low to permit profitable economic rela-
tions with nations of the middle lati-
tudes, other than of the crude exploita-
tive type. (3) Experience has shown
that permanent white populations do

parently in large part at least because
of adverse reactions to the climate, so
that such areas can not be looked upon as
future regions for settlement from
Europe or North America.

These arguments seem to me to be
predicated on the traditional European
imperialist attitude that the low tropics
are of value only as reservoirs of raw
materials to be exploited by a handful
of white masters who use a socially and
economically depressed native popula-
tion as a labor force, primarily under
the gang system on plantations or in
mines. In such a set-up the whites are
maintained in small numbers and tem-
porarily by capital and cultural imports
from the mother country. And the
natives are persuaded or forced to de-
pend upon home-country manufactured
goods. According to this traditional
view, therefore, a tropical region which
does not contain a large, hardy and
amenable native population, together
with other conditions necessary for the
usual extractive exploitation, is consid-
ered of no potential importance. It is
not surprising, then, that tropical low-
land South America has remained unin-
teresting to old-fashioned capitalist im-
perialists.

The possibility has never seriously
been considered, so far as I am aware,
of the emergence of a blended racial
type and of a blended culture capable
of developing cultural and economic re-
lations of an independent and mutually
profitable character with the nations of
the middle latitudes. It is this possi-
bility which I believe anthropologists
could investigate with advantage to all.

The dream of large-scale permanent
white settlements in the low wet tropics
has been dissipated by recent investiga-
tions and by several centuries of experi-
ence. A. Grenfell Price has most re-
cently summarized the evidence on this
matter in “White Settlers in the Trop-

RACES AND CULTURES IN SOUTH AMERICA

271

ics,” and the 1939 report of the British
Quiana Refugee Commission to the Ad-
visory Commission on Political Refu-
gees appointed by the President of the
United States concludes that experimen-
tal colonization by whites in that colony
is feasible, but only in a comparatively
dry and non-forested savannah and hill
district. Without citing more of the
voluminous literature on this subject we
may say that the prospects of a pure
white society in the low wet tropics of
South America appear to be remote.
Likewise it is doubtful that a pure In-
dian society will occupy the region in
the future, if for no other reason than
that the process of extermination and
intermixture with elements of white or
negroid ancestry, which has been pro-
ceeding inexorably for four centuries,
shows no signs of abating. The north-
eastern region of Brazil is now occupied
by a mixed combination of white (Por-
tuguese), negroid and aboriginal Indian
elements, the sociological and historical
aspects of which have been ably studied
by Qilberto Preyre, among others. Says
Preyre in his ^^Casa Grande e Senzala,''
‘ * The Portuguese triumphed where
other Europeans failed. The Portu-
guese was the first society of modem
times constructed in the tropics with
national characteristics and qualities of
permanence. . . These results were,
according to Preyre, obtained by devot-
ing first and foremost energy toward the
creation of wealth in Brazil itself, rather
than to its extraction, and also by the
borrowing and recombining of many
Indian traits, making use of the indi-
gene, particularly the woman, not only
as an instrument of labor, but also as
the basis for the formation of a race of
mixed bloods.” Por other parts of the
lowland tropics we also have a sufficient
number of scholarly observations of a
descriptive, not a metrical type, on race
mixture to indicate the general outlines
of the process which seems to be taking
place.

The first suggested line of research for
anthropology, then, would be in the
physical anthropology of the race mix-
tures of the tropical lowland region.
Not only do we need information of a
scientific, metrical nature concerning the
actual somatic types which are emerging
from the blending process, but we would
also welcome psychological and medical
data. Are the new t 3 rpes, like their
Indian and Negro forebears, capable of
resisting the tropical climate which
seems to be so injurious to permanent
white occupation, and at the same time
have they inherited the “nervous
energy” of their white ancestors t In
short, is a stable, physically adapted
population developing in this region
which will be able to grow and to develop
a social and cultural life of its own, free
from domination of the middle latitudes
but capable of carr 3 ring on reciprocal
relations with the cultural centers of the
temperate zones for the mutual benefit
of all T There are many indications that
such a development is taking place, but
only scientific anthropological studies
will enable us to grasp its true signifi-
cance and to estimate its trend in the
future.

The problem of cultural blending is of
equal importance to that of racial blend-
ing, and herein lies the second group of
problems to which anthropology should
be able to contribute. There can be no
dodging the fact that the aboriginal cul-
tures of this region will be either modi-
fied or absorbed. Every one is familiar
with the fact that the Western civiliza-
tion of the middle latitudes is not easily
transplanted to the wet tropics. In
those instances where European and
American material cultures is existent
in the wet tropics, as in the Panama
Canal Zone and in the colonial cities of
certain western powers, it is well known
that it is either extensively modified or
it is maintained uneconomically by
heavy financial support from the home
country. And the “decay,” as it is

272

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

sometimes called, of Western standards
of conduct in the tropics is notorious,
and has been extensively described both
in fiction and in serious scientific reports.
To anthropologists familiar with the
general principles of the culture-environ-
ment relationship it is unreasonable to
expect that European and American cul-
ture can be transplanted bodily and in
toto to the low wet tropics, except in
small centers maintained at considerable
expense for strategic or political reasons.

Yet we must grant that the world as
we know it is operating more or less in
consonance with deep-lying fundamental
principles which are part and parcel of
this European-American culture or
Western civilization. Whether we like
it or not, we must recognize the existence
of capitalist economics (whether pri-
vately or state controlled), nationalistic
politics, monogamic marriage and small
family units, machine technology, de-
pendence upon artificial sources of
power, literacy and rapid communica-
tion, and all that these words imply.
And it is perfectly apparent that the
indigenous cultural systems of the Ama-
zon-Orinoco-Guiana region are in most
respects inherently unfitted to “get
along** with a Western civilization con-
taining these complexes and drives.
While the complexion of Western civili-
zation may change with altering political
or military fortunes, it seems unlikely
that the basic complexes mentioned
above will disappear completely from
the world system for.mai^y decades or
even centuries, barring a total collapse
and “return to barbarism.*’ Therefore
the problems of this area seem to boil
down to the following terms. European
and American culture, adapted to mid-
dle latitude environments, can not be
transplanted or borrowed in toio in the
low tropics of South America. On the
other hand, the indigenous cultures,
although providing a material adapta-
tion to the environment, are incapable,
without radical reorientation and modifi-

cation, of gearing into a world ifystem
dominated by Western civilization. It
is the task of anthropology to investigate
the actualities and the potentialities of
an emergent civilization in tiiis region,
adapted to the environment, but capable
of standing on its own feet in the world
arena. The instability of the native
situation under the old imperialist ex-
ploitation during the depression was ap-
parent to many observers, of whom Earl
P. Hanson was perhaps the most articu-
late in a number of articles and in his
book “Journey to Manaos.*’

The task of the anthropologist with
respect to these problems might be
phrased in terms of the following ques-
tions. Is there any evidence that a cul-
ture, combining certain elements of
aboriginal cultural adjustment (e.g.,
house types, food, clothing, etc.) with
values and techniques derived from
Western civilization, may be arising T
Japan, for example, represents a society
which has adopted certain Western traits
of culture (e.g,, capitalist economics,
machine technology, military tactics and
weapons, etc.) without loss of many in-
digenous cultural elements. This blend-
ing process has given Japan a position
of independence and reciprocal function
in the world. Is a similar process devel-
oping, or capable of developing, in the
Amazon-Or inoeo-Quiana region f We do
not mean to suggest that an exact paral-
lel with Japan will be found, but this
case is mentioned in order to indicate
that what may happen in one society
may, in a general way, occur elsewhere,
namely, in South America.

As with race mixture, so also with cul-
tural mixture we are not dealing purely
vsdth hypothetical possibilities. A con-
siderable number of trained observers
have described various aspects of accul-
turation within the region. Nordenski-
bld dealt in a number of publications
with early post-Colombian European
contacts with natives and traced the
diffusion of certain European culture

RACES AND CULTURES IN SOUTH AMERICA

273

elementa, using primarily the linguistic
approach. P. Keiter published a survey
of acculturation in the Upper Amazon
basin based on G. Tessmann’s material.
Baldus and Petrullo have provided some
information on the region of the Upper
Xingu and Matto Grosso^ Snethlage on
Eastern Bolivia, and other authors have
dealt in summary or passing fashion
with other portions of the area. The
present writer’s personal observations
from Eastern Ecuador and Peru to the
Guianas confirm the impressions of other
observers that the native cultures are
disappearing, not into a European cul-
ture as we generally understand it, but
into a synthesis composed of European
and native elements. The time has now
come to proceed from these somewhat
random studies and impressions to a
systematic consideration and investiga-
tion of the whole problem.

Perhaps the emergent cultures of the
Amazon-Orinoco-Guiana region could
best be studied through the regional ap-
proach, using some of the concepts and
techniques developed by American geog-
raphers and sociologists, together with
ethnological methods of acculturation
study already proven successful by an-
thropologists. In the Amazon Valley
one region of this type is that comprising
Eastern Peru and Ecuador, with its cul-
tural center at Iquitos. The regions of
Man&os, Par& and Santar4m, the Upper
Orinoco, Orinoco delta, etc., might be
similarly studied. And with the anthro-
pologist we might expect other social
scientists, particularly the geographer
and economist, to cooperate in investiga-
tions of a more specialized nature.

Once in possession of the data concern-
ing racial and cultural change and
blending in this region, scientists as well
as ^'practical men” concerned with
human problems would be in a better
position to shape the future course of
relations with South America, and
policy-makers in South America itself
would have a firmer basis on which to
proceed. With respect to population
problems, we might call attention to the
present overcrowding of the colored
population in parts of the West Indies,
for example, Puerto Rico and Jamaica.
It is conceivable that scientific studies
of the lowland tropics of South America
would indicate this to be a land of oppor-
tunity for colored migrants.

In emphasizing the opportunities for
research in the lowland tropic region we
should also point out that similar anthro-
pological studies are applicable to other
portions of South America. Particularly
in the Andean republics it seems that
nativistic elements, their blending and
cultural adaptation, will present impor-
tant problems for the future. The rise
of Aprismo and of self-conscious native
literary movements in these areas are
only two indications that old conditions
are changing.

In short, the argument of this paper
is that human resources are of equal
importance with ” natural” resources in
our relations with foreign areas, and
that the sciences of man should not be
left out of consideration in such rela-
tions. To illustrate this point we have
directed attention to South America and
to the least developed portion of the
continent, the tropical lowland area.

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

ARB WE COMING OR OOING?>' *

Reading one of Professor Hooton’s re-
cent books is like panning for gold —
with the exception that Hooton does the
‘‘panning/’ and it is the reader who
must search for a few grains of gold or,
mayhap, even a nugget or two. The two
books above listed are quite similar in
content and in theme. The 1939 vol-
ume is a collection of sundry Harvard
Alumni Club luncheon talks; the 1940
volume an extension of the five Van-
uxem Lectures at Princeton. There is
in each an outline of human evolution,
a discussion of human races, and a gen-
eral viewing-with-alarm and pointing-
with-scorn. The 1940 volume adds a
discussion of infra-human Primate be-
havior and human body types.

Any thinking person who scans the
world scene to-day and who reads the
record of twentieth century history, will
agree with Professor Hooton that some-
thing’s wrong, that man has made a
mess of his social structure.

It is in the diagnosis of basic causes
that the author strikes out vigorously.
He is convinced that man’s “biological
inferiority” — the culmination of an evo-
lutionary process accelerated and accen-
tuated by civilization — is at the root of
all criminal behavior and all social in-
adequacies. In the conflict between bio-
logical determinism vs, social opportu-
nism Hooton backs the former, regards
the latter as an “also ran.” In charg-
ing that medicine and social science have
neglected human biology and human
heredity in favor of environmental con-
ditioning he goes to the other extreme
and virtually neglects environment.
This may be no more than the shock psy-

' Twilight of Man, E. A. Hooton. IlluB-
trated. x 4 308 pp, $3.00. 1939. Putnam.

* Why Men Beha/ve Like Apea and Vice Versa,
E. A. Hooton. 1940. Princeton University
Press.

chology of over-exaggeration, to stimu-
late the physician and the social scientist
to meet the bio-anthropologist at least
half-way. The pendulum, swinging free,
goes to extremes, but it soon gravitates
to a balance. At the moment Hooton
has the pendulum in biological imbal-
ance, as it were.

Man is biological, but he also is a so-
cial being. His biological make-up must
inevitably condition his social pattern;
but likewise is it true — ^whether equally
true or not, we’ll not say — ^that the total-
ity of his environment must shape the
expression of his biological constitution.

The statement that criminal behavior
is associated with a given physical type
(“mosaic” of morphological traits) pays
too little attention to the social aspect
of the definition of what constitutes a
crime. During Prohibition it was a
crime to possess liquor; now it is not.
Yet many of us, no different physically
now than then, were “criminals” every
time we partook of some liquor “just off
the. boat!” Man defines the crime, not
crime the man, and criminal opportu-
nity bulks at least as large as the crim-
inal’s physique. We are products of
time, yes, but time may be measured in
the social set-up of the moment.

Professor Hooton outlines an aggres-
sive program for the study of man’s con-
stitution. In forceful and often witty
style he points out man’s shortcomings
and suggests a program — ^largely eugen-
ical — ^for setting things right. His is the
biological approach. It must be com-
plemented by a program of social in-
tegration. A concerted biologico-social
study of man is now indicated — ^not
merely a questionnaire type of social
program in august dignity or a statis-
tical and morphological investigation in
aloof solitude. Teamwork is the answer t

W. M. Eboghak

274

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOB LAYMEN

275

UP PROM THB ALGABi

For forty-five years CampbelFs
^^Mosses and Ferns” has been the stand-
ard text for the morphology of these
groups. Now in his eightieth year the
author carries to completion his great
project of dealing with the morphology
of all vascular plants.

The obvious popular appeal of the
title is not quite borne out by the con-
tents and could not be because no one
can yet map the evolution of the higher
plants, for ”It is not expected that all
the conclusions presented by the writer
will meet with general approval but it
is hoped that they may direct attention
to much-needed investigation of many
disputed points in the classification of
embryophytes which is at present in
need of thorough revision.” Read in
the spirit of this sentiment the book is
an extremely valuable contribution. It
really consists of a compendium of pres-
ent-day information on the structure
and development of plants from mosses
to flowering plants, together with as
much of the theoretical evolutionary
path over which they have traveled, as
may be made out at the present time.

The first section of the book on the
Bryoph 3 i;es looks familiar to a student
of the earlier ” Mosses and Ferns.” But
in the later sections the progress of sci-
ence, especially in the discovery and in-
terpretation of fossils gives the book an
aspect which could never have been an-
ticipated by the student of 1895.

The first of these discoveries came
with the gradual realization by a num-
ber of different workers, in the next
decade, that the ”fern leaves” so abun-
dant in the coal measures were seed
plants (Pteridosperms) not related to
the ferns at all.

A second major change was intro-
duced by the discovery of Eidston and

^ The Evolution of Land Plants* D. H.
Oampbell. IlluBtrated. 731 pp. $6.50. 1940.
Stanford Unireriitj Press.

Lang in 1921 in the Devonian rocks of
Scotland of curious vascular plants
which partook of the character of Thal-
lophytes, Bryophytes and Pteridophytes,
but could not at first be assigned to any
of these. They were slight upright
plants with conducting tissues as in the
higher plants but without differentiation
into any of their organs, i.e., leaf, root
or stem. These plants, Rhynia and
Homea, are now considered a primitive
type of Pteridophyte, but in reaching
this conclusion ideas of phylogeny of the
higher plants had to be pretty thor-
oughly revised.

The tliird revolutionary discovery dur-
ing the half century covered by Camp-
bell’s studies was Wieland’s elucidation
of the detailed structure of fossil cycads
in 1906. This work demonstrated the
distinctness of fossil cycads (Benneti-
tales) from their living relatives and
furnished the data from which Parkin
and Arber elaborated what is by many
regarded as the best theory for the
origin of angiosperms. On this theory
the conelike flowers of magnolias are
regarded as primitive. Later Bessey
and others built systems of classification
(and they believed of the phylogeny) of
the flowering plants, starting from Mag-
nolias and Buttercups.

Campbell rejects these newer ideas of
the origin of flowering plants, deciding
(rightly) that the evidence supporting
them is inconclusive, and takes up the
system of Wettstein, .which regards the
amentiferous oaks and walnuts as primi-
tive and derives most of the other flow-
ering plants from ancestors of this gen-
eral type. With this, as Campbell recog-
nizes, many will disagree. For while it
appears to accord better than Bessey ’s
system with the earliest angiosperms we
know as fossils, it fails to connect with
any particular gymnosperm type which
can be regarded as ancestral.

The adherents of the opposing theory
maintain that the earliest angiosperm

276

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

floras knovm to us represent a great ad-
vance beyond what the first (unknown)
angiosperms must have been. Thus one
of the earliest of certainly identifiable
angiosperms (early Cretaceous) is the
Sycamore, Platanus ; and concerning this
Seward* remarks; ‘‘This forest tree ex-
hibits no features which stamp it as a
primitive type or as one of the earliest
members of an evolutionary series. In
the upper Cretaceous, moreover, there
were about 70 families of angiosperms,
covering almost all types, from the low-
est tp the highest.

Thus the origin of the angiosperm re-
mains the chief problem of plant phy-
logeny. Campbell by summarizing ex-
isting knowledge has in effect clearly
stated the problem and so should facili-
tate its solution. The book is one which
will be used constantly everywhere plant
morphology is studied.

Robert F. Grigob

FACT GATHERlNQi

Historically the oldest and, from a
purely factual standpoint, the most
basic, phase of biological science — ^tbe
description and classification of the forms
of life, the classical field of taxonomy,
has been accused, and with reason, of
contributing but little to the ever-chang-
ing facies of the main currents of biolog-
ical thought. The essential value of its
work in the gathering of facts for the
record to be consulted by workers in
other fields has never been questioned,
but until very recently systematics was
looked upon as without much general
interest or even application to other
branches of biology. However, with the
vast advance in purely systematic knowl-
edge and particularly with the great in-
crease in detailed data on certain groups,
it has now become possible for the spe-

*A. 0. Seward, Plant Life through the Ages,
p. 298.

1 The New SyslematicH, Edited by Julian
Huxley. IlluBtrated. viii + 683 pp. $6.00.
July, 1940, Oxford Univtjrsity Press.

ciaiist in other lines to check his theories
and more accurately formulate his ques-
tions, to find material for new paths of
experimental departure and to build up
new chains of inductive reasoning from
the once neglected, and even scorned,
field of taxonomy. Not only do the data
of systematica thereby cast a correcting
and directing influence upon the philo-
sophical background of current work in
genetics, cytology, embryology, ecology
and other specialties, but also the impact
on these data of minds trained along
other than taxonomic lines has tended to
mold purely systematic work as well.
It is therefore at a most propitious time
for biologists that a book dealing with
the “new’^ systematics makes its ap-
pearance.

This book is issued under the sponsor-
ship of the Association for the Study of
Systematics in relation to General Biol-
ogy under the editorship of Julian Hux-
ley. Besides a valuable introduction by
the editor, it contains twenty-one chap-
ters, each with a different authorship,
and, fortunately, each with a useful lit-
erature list. All that can be done in tlie
limited space at the disposal of the re-
viewer is to list some of the chapter
titles, in the hope that they may stimu-
late the reader of this review to go over
the book itself. Mutations and Geo-
graphical Variation is discussed by
Timof eeff-Ressovsky ; Taxonomic Species
and Genetic Systema by Darlington;
Bearings of the Drosophila*' Work on
Systematics comes from the pen of H. J.
Muller; Hogben writes of Problems of
the Origin of Species ; de Beer on Em-
bryology and Taxonomy; Caiman pre-
sents A Museum Zoologists* View of
Taxonomy; and Ford gives an account
of Polymorphism and Taxonomy.

All the chapters are full of interest
and appear to result from much careful
deliberation and reflection. The text, on
the whole, is free from typographical
error, but occasional mistsikes have

BOORS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

277

eluded the proofreader, such as, on page
7, where Darwin book is referred to
as Animals of the Variation and Plants
under Domestication’’ instead of ^^The
Variation of Animals and Plants under
Domestication.” Two good indices, one
of names, and one of subjects, make
readily available the contents of a book
well worth the attention of biologists of
all specialties.

H. Friedmann

IS LIFE A MIRACLB?^

The task of surveying the information
we possess concerning animal and plant
life is one to be approached with con-
siderable deliberation. The selection of
what to give and what to leave out is
obviously one of the most difficult to
make. Even when the authors have
pleased themselves with the reasonable-
ness of the approach and the material
submitted, there 'still remains the very
strong probability that few others will
agree with them.

This volume is a compilation of chap-
ters by six authors. It begins with the
dawn of life, proceeds through the vari-
ous phases of evolution and then turns
its attention to the wimal kingdom.
There ip no attempt to become involved
in the intricacies of classification. The
speed with which the invertebrates are
dispatched is amazing. The emphasis
rather falls around the discussion of
varioQS topics such as animal courtship,
how animals make a home, modes of
travel and the like. The plant kingdom
findis itself in between the earlier animal
evolution and animal kin^om sections
and the large later section on various
phases of ^ biologjr of man. This con*
oesnon to any plant miracle again is
built around topics like plant anatomy,
plants in relation to man and plant
breeding. The hook then proceed to

i The Mtraele of Lif e. Bdited by H. WhealSr.
4S0 pp. Ssl^^ Soww.

devote nearly half of its pages to
story of the hunum family tree, the races
of mankind, human physiology, 'human
psychology and a brief review of some
great men in medical history. .

This book is written for the gw«^
reader. ‘*The Miracle of Life" has.been
condensed into 480 pages, with over 500
illustrations taking approximately one
third of the page space. The pictures
are adequate but poorly printed. The
text is sketchy and brief. It further is
a distinctly British volume which relies
pretty much upon a background of the
British Isles. The wrapper informs us
that it tells "what modem scienee knows
about all living things: Birth, Growth,
Heredity, Instinct, Reproduction, Etc."
With that emphasis upon birth and re-
production it is a revelation, if not a
minor miracle, to find the phenomena in
man are covered in three pages without
any pictures whatsoever of the repro-
ductive apparatus. This volume surely
will not offend the most conservative
home of even thirty years ago.

To the person with a biological back-
ground this volume is elementary to the
extreme, and will receive merely an ex-
amination of its pictures. Our readers
of Science will be delighted to learn tiiat
the deer bot fly still travels over eight
hundred miles an hour. No one will
'dispute the miraculous nature of this
myth.

In spite of its weaknesses, it is a vol-
ume that is full of information in read-
able form. The pictures are its chief
source of attraction, and may insure that
some of the text will be perused. For
one who knows little about biology, h(ge
is a good place to begin. It is in tio
sense a tedmieal book, and will flml a
place in a personal library of a geitaeal
nature. It surely will acquaint the gen-
eral public with a mass of biological
knowledge.

IbaB. Hakssn

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

SIR OLIVER LODGE. 1851-1940

To the ‘‘man in the street/’ the typical
professor of natural philosophy is a
man of dignified bearing with strongly
developed features, a man having the
appearance occasionally of being lost in
the clouds while peering into the myster-
ies of the universe, a man, nevertheless,
of great action and energy, a man fear-
less in the cause of his convictions, a man
able on occasion to stir the multitude
with the profundities of his learning,
yet one humble in himself, and the faith-
ful servant of his Creator. Few typify
this conventional ideal as did Sir Oliver
Lodge. To the layman, he was prob-
ably better known than any other living
man of science, a fact for which his
strong personality was largely respon-
sible, enhanced as it was by a clarity and
simplicity in writing and speaking which
enabled his hearers to understand the
message, and to become incited to en-
thusiasm for it*

A product of the school of classical
physics and of the era in which the sci-
ence of electrodynamics was born, Lodge
was a fiism believer in the reality of
things; and while open to conviction in
respect of the new, he sought always to
(?ement it to the fabric of the old. The
aether in his eyes was a very real me-
dium. Its equations to him were the
servants of its substance, and he had
little syftipathy with the kind of sub-
stance which had no parentage other
than in tlie equations. He was one of
those pioneer experimenters who, seek-
ing to make the aether declare itself in
all its actions where moving bodies are
concerned, evolved a series of results
which, tinassailable in accuracy, were
yet ineimsisteni; vdth each other in the
spirit of thought of the day and which,
in the hands of the more venturesome
Einstein, led through the intermediary

work of Larmor and Loren tz to the con*
cept of the theory of relativity.

Enthused with the revelations of the
work of Faraday and Maxwell, Lodge’s
first important investigations had to do
with lightning rods and the general sub-
ject of electrical oscillaticms. As a by-
product of this work, he was responsible
for the invention of a method of dispers-
ing fog. He almost anticipated the lyork
of Hertz on electrical oscillations. He
invented the “coherer” and was the first
to transmit wireless messages over con-
siderable distances. It is probable that
had his knowledge of the science of
ele<»tri(uty and magnetism been less he
would have been encouraged to pursue
these investigations into that re^m of
practical wireless telegraphy whose suc-
cessful realization fell to the fortune of
others in later years. The fact is that
in terms of the knowledge of those times,
a realization of transmission of electrical
signals over a distancf! comparable with
the earth’s radius seemed a fantastic
impossibility. Indeed, it is ony the more
recent discoveries of the existence of
special conditions in the upper atmos-
phere, and associated with the Kennerly-
Heavisidean Layer, tliat have enabl^
experiment to be (frowned by theory with"*
“common sense.”

Oliver Joseph Lodge was born on June
12, 1851, at Penkhull, near Btoke-on-
Treiit, England, and received his early
education at Newport Grammar School.
He received much of his early advanced-
education in physics at University Col-
lege, London, and .obtained the degree
of doctor of science in 1887. Following
a lectureship on physics at Bedford Col-
lege for Women, he was appointed w-
sistant professor at University College,
and in 1881 he was elected first professor
of physics at Liverpool, In 1900 he was

280

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

appointed principal of the new univer*
sity at Birmingham, which position he
held until 1919. In 1877 he married
Mary, the daughter of Alexander Mar-
shall, and his family comprised six sons
alid six daughters.

Lodge is the author of several books,
such as ‘ * Elementary Mechanics, ’ ’ “ Mod-
ern Views of Electricity,’’ Pioneers of
Science,” “The Ether of Space,” which
have been a source of inspiration to
countless physicists and doubtless have
inspired many of them to specialize in
the field of electrodynamics. In addi-
tion, he is noted for his writings upon
matters pertaining to psychical research,
to which subject he gave considerable at-

tenti(m during the latter portion of his
life. In this realm, while he was prob-
ably the most outspoken of his contem-
poraries, he was not alone, for Sir Wil-
liam Crookes, Lord Bayleigh and indeed
Sir J. J. Thomson, also, viewed these
matters as worthy of consideration.

Sir Oliver Lodge was always a striking
figure in any assembly of men of science ;
but in spite of hi$i dominating person-
ality, he was a man of kindly sympathy
and was greatly helpful in his encour-
agement of others. He was, indeed, an
ornament to science and a lovable link
between the physics of to-day and that
of the era which is past.

W. F. Q. Swann

INVESTIGATIONS AMONG *niE CARRIER INDIANS OP BRITISH COLUMBIA

The Carrier Indians in the vicinity of social and political organization. The
Stuart Lake, British Columbia, were Carrier are exceptionally suitable for
visited during the summer of 1940 in a study of this kind because several
order to study certain problems of the marked changes in the framework of
relationship of primitive economics to their socio-political organization during

CABRIBR FISHERMEN STILL USB DUGOUT CANOES

ON STUABT LAKE, WHXOR ABE OFTEN POWEEBD »T OU^ABP. MOVOtS.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

281

MODKBN CARRIER POOD CACHES ABE BUILT OF LOGS

the prehistoric period can be recon-
structed and because the impact of Euro-
pean culture on their own during the
historic period has been more orderly
and less devastatiuR than amoiiR most
Indian tribes.

The Carrier inhabit a vast territory
between the Rocky Mountains and the
coastal rtinges of British Columbia. In
subsistence terms, they occupy a region
where the hunting and fur trapping area
of the great Canadian interior and the
salmon area of the Northwest Coast over-
lap. Game and fur-bearing animals
kUled in the extensive forests and fish
caught in the headwaters of the Fraser
and Skeena Rivers have always contrib-
uted about equally to Carrier existence.
To-day, most Carrier Indians' have ex-
clusive rights to trap-lines which are reg-
istered with the government of British
Columbia. These registered trap-lines
permitted a somewhat novel and fruit-
ful field technique. Starting with maps
of present-day holdings, the succeesion of
land ownership was traced back through
five generations and concomitant changes

in social and political usages recorded.
Earlier changes were reconstructed by
comparative ethnography. Three main
stages of Carrier development were re-
constructed.

At one time the Carrier, like the other
Athabaskan tribes of the interior of
Canada, lacked clans and a hereditary
aristocracy of wealth. Land was prob-
ably held and exploited commimally by
bands in which idl people were substan-
tially equal. But in comparatively re-
cent prehistoric times matrUineal clans
and a potlatch system spread up the
Skeena River from the Tsimshian In-
dians and were introduced first to the
Babine Lake Carrier, later to the Stuart
Lake Carrier. Tracts of land came to
be held by “nobles,” who gave potlatch
feasts to support their titles and who
inherited both land and titles matri-
lineaUy, within clans, from their moth-
ers’ brothers. The mechanics by which
this new type of land tenure and use
were substituted for the old system can
not be known in detail. Two features
of the older Carrier culture, however,

282

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

D008 ABE TRAINED TO CABBY LOADS OP AS MUCH AS FORTY POUNDS

THE PBOGBESS OF SCIENCE

283

probably facilitated ita adoption : Cross-
cousin marriage and bride service. If
it had been customary that a man marry
his mother’s brother’s danj^hter and pro
to live at her house for several years be-
fore and after his marriage, the intro-
duction of the new system meant merely
that he would inherit his father-in-law’s,
that is, his mother’s brother’s titles and
property and that his children would
belong to his wife’s clan.

By the time the white man arrived in
Carrier country, achievement of status
by wealth had become a dominant theme
in Carrier eulture. A somewhat greater
wealth made possible by the w^hite man’s
sujierior technology — steel tra})s, gnus,
axes, and so forth — dt first intensified the
old system. Pot latches involved bigger
feasts and a greater quantity and va-
riety of goods to distribute to rival
nobles. But eventually, other influences
from the white man began to undermine
the native institutions. The (/atholic
Church banned cousin marriage and dis-
couraged potlatching. A desire to keep
rather than to distribute wealth and in-
creasing importance of individual owner-
ship and of patrilineal inheritance of
land caused more and more nobles to
divide their estates among their own sons
in defiance of the ancient obligation to
give it and the potlatch title it supported
to their nephews. Registrations of trap-
lines was the final factor that entrenched
the new system. To-day, therefore, al-
though the Carrier continue to live

mainly by trapping and fishing, their
socio-economic unit is the individual
family.

Thus, the Stuart Lake Carrier changed
from a band organization to a clan-put-
latch system and later to a family system
without any important modification in
the pattern of their economic activities.

A CAHRIBB WOMAN

DEMONSTRATINQ THE USE OF ABORIOINAL CARRY-
INO NET AND TUMPLINE.

These changes, therefore, were caused by
the external influence of ideologies, a
purely historical phenomenon, and not
by any kind of “economic determinism.”

Julian H. Steward

EXPEDITION TO STUDY MEXICAN BIRDS

George Mikbch Sutton, Cornell Uni-
versity’s curator of birds, and Olin Be-
wail Pettingill, Jr., zoology professor at
Carleton College, led an expedition to
the hill country of southwestern Ta*
maulipas in February to study birds
during the breeding season from Febru-
ary to June. With Sutton will be big
sheets of paper and a complete water-

color outfit for a series of bird paintings.
With Pettingill will be cameras and
color film. The expedition will center
oil a pictorial cxmquest of the birds of
the Sabinas Valley and of the mountains
west of the village of Qomez Farias.

Headquarters probably will be the
Rancho Rinconada) a spot known to
Sutton, who worked the Sabinas Valley

284

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

briefly in the spring of 1938. The ex-
pedition plans to be in Mexico for sev-
eral weeks so that the ornithologists may
obtain data on the wintering bird-life,
the transient forms and the courtship,
nesting activities and territorialism of
the breeding species.

“The region is particularly
rich in tropical birds/ ^ said
Professor Sutton, in com-
menting on his work in |

1938. “Near the Rancho
Rinconada we encount-
ered five species of Par-
rots — the Military Macaw*,

Red-crowned and YelloW-
headed Parrots, Green Para-
keet, and Axtec Parakeet; a
tinamou ; the great-crested Cu- ,
rassow that is known as the Faisano Real
or ‘Royal Pheasant'; the wild Muscovy
Duck, and numerous brightly colored
small birds, including tanagers, warb-
lers, hummingbirds and buntings. Sev-
eral kinds of hawks breed in the vicinity,
including the little known Crane-legged
Hawk, Oeranospiza nigra; the handsome
Mexican Goshawk; the Black Hawk; a
middle-sized hawk that is the counter-
part of our United States Broad-
wing; the trim Bat Falcon;
and a long-tailed, bird -eat-
ing species known as the
Collared Micrastur. Vul-
tures and Caracaras are /
common, of course, these
being the garbage-disposal
system of the country- %
side.“

The w^orst difficulties the
ornithologists wdll encounter *

pineliUos, conchudas, grapatas and aire-
dares (whatever the etymology of these
words ma3" be!) are very bad in spring.
In 1938 Sutton's party had a time with
them, finding such items as sulfur, gaso-
line, kerosene, carbide and alcohol of no
use in combatting them. “The pineliU
las were worst," said Sutton.
“They were very small, got
onto us by the hundred, and
had to be scraped off with
knives. But we never
had an^” serious trouble as
a result of them. ' ' As for
snakes, they apparently*
are rare about the Rancho.
The only snakes Sutton and
his party saw in 1938 were
dead ones along the highway or
partly eaten ones that were being car-
ried about by* hawks; and none was a
rattlesnake.

Sutton's first collection of Mexican
bird paintings (a series of sixty heads
made direct from life or from freshly
killed specimens) was displayed at the
International Ornithologic^al Congress
at Rouen and Paris, France, in 1938, one
of them (that of a Coppery-tailed Tro-
gon) being reproduced in full
color in the Procteedings of the
Congress and in the French
ornithological magazine
L^Oiseau, Most of
them have since been dis-
played at meetings of the
Wilson Ornithological
Club, and at a one-man
show at the American Mu-
seum of Natural History in
rw. New York City. Reports on

will be dysentery and ticks. The ticta, Sutton's 1938 and 1989 bird- work in
which are variously known as nigkuaSf Mexico have been appearing in The

Note; The two bird heads reproduced on this
page were aketohed by George M. Button. ,The
first one Is Audubon’s Caracara, a common
Mexican bird sometimes called the ^^Moxiean
Eagle, ’ * sketched from a freshly killed specimen
by George M. Sutton ; the second is the Curassow,
known as the * ‘ Faisano Beal ” or * < Boyal Pheas*
ant, ’ ’ painted from a male specimen. The knob
at the base of the bill is bright yellow.

Auk, The Condor, the Wilson Bulletin
and the Annals of the Carnegie Mu-
seum of Pittsburgh. He has prepared
a semi-popular book on his 1938 work,
but this is not yet ready for publication.

Sutton and Pettingill are old team-
mates, both of them having participated
in the memorable hunt for the Harris's

if'St

THE PKOGRESS OF SCIENCE

' J L .1 ij!' ''•>1. 1. *1

m..

' '-'S

’W

.+ ■

■r^'i^,.' ■

,. . . T^’

<;■'%

«,»?! ' (1 ‘

,v. ;«

A BAT FALCON

THIS SPEOIBS N18T8 ON THE RANCH RINGONADA,
NEAR THE EXPEDITION ’S HEADQUARTERS.

COPPEBY-TAILEB TBOGON

ONE OF MEXICO’S HANDSOMEST BIRDS, KNOWN AS
THE “QUA” OR THE “PLAO BIRD.”

./ff

1. f

ViiaJ^W ./

■^l,v

s(..

“ 'A-

'I ■■?4 , ' '
w' i '

-Vvr»'}

MAKlKra pBNITHOLOOICAL OB8EBVATION8 IN A MEXICAN SWAMP

286

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Sparrow’s nest at Churchill, Manitoba,
in 1931. They were graduate students
at Cornell together in the early ’30 ’s.
and are, respectively, first vice-president
and secretary of the Wilson Ornitho-
logical Club. Sutton, who is a fellow of
the American Ornithologists^ Union, is
author of the books **Eskimo Year” ami
“Birds in the Wilderness” and illustra-
tor of many bird-books, including W. E.
Clyde Todd’s recently published “Birds
of Western Pennsylvania.” Pettingill.
one of the outstanding bird photogra-
phers of the country, has contributed to
such magazines as Natural History, Na-
tional Geographic and BmhLore,

Other members of the expedition will
probably be Dwaia W. Warner, one of
Dr. Sutton’s graduate stiidents at Cor-
nell, and Robert B. Lea, one of Pettin-
gill’s students at Carleton. jg p

AN AUTOMATIC DRIVE FOR THE SCHMIDT TELESCOPE ON

PALOMAR MOUNTAIN

During the intensive search for super-
novae which was conducted with the
Schmidt telescope on Palomar Mountain,
much time was wasted in manually guid-
ing the telescope. It therefore became
desirable to install an automatic drive
which would enable us to eliminate man-
ual guiding for exposure times up to
thirty minutes.

The new drive, now in use, consists of
a synchronous motor supplied with
power from a precise, adjustable fre-
quency time standard. The frequency
of the standard is varied from sidereal
rate by a calibrated amount to compen-
sate for the effect of atmospheric refrac-
tion and the fact that in practice the
polar axis of the telesiKipe is pointed to
the apparent pole rather than to the true
pole.

. The time standard,^ shown in the ac-

FIG. 1. VIBRATOR UNIT i ^ complete deectiptioii of thie time standard

OF TIMS stakhabo. DiAicBTXB OF BASS, is given by the inventor^ Henry E. Warren, in
14 ZNCHX8. AJJE.X, TranBoetionMp March, 1940.

TICK BITES

ON THE LKGH OF A MEMBER OF THE EXPEDITION
AT THE RANCHO RINCONADA.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

287

companying photograph, consists of a
vertical wire texisioned by a weight, and
is kept in tratisverse vibration at its
fundamental frequency, A small bar
magnet attached to the midpoint of the
wire is coupled with pick-up and feed-
back coils, these coils being connected to
a simple vacuum tube circuit which
maintains the wire in vibration.

By proper choice of the dimensions
and materials of the upper and lower
halves of the wire, the frequency of vi-
bration is made substantially indepen-
dent of the temperature. Also by use
of a bow spring coupling between the
wire and the tensioning weight, the fre-
quency is made substantially indepen-
dent of variations in the amplitude of
the vibration. The unit in use at this
telescope has the tensioning weight ad-
justed to produce a frequency of vibra-
tion of 60 cycles per sidereal second.
The precision of the time standard is
about one tenth of a seitond per day.

The lower portion of the tensioning
weight consists of a cylindrical Alnico •
magnet, in the air gap of which is a coil
of fine wire. Flow through the coil^.of
measured direct current of proper sign
and magnitude causes a downward or
upward force on the weight, causing in
turn a definite increase or decrease in
frequency. The current to this fre-
quency adjusting coil is set to the proper
value by means of a rheostat, as indi-
cated by a milliammeter calibrated di-
rectly in ‘‘seconds of arc per hour” de-
viation from sidereal rate. The rate
deviation is read from a chart, giving
its values for various declinations and
hour angles.

Although a drive of the type described
should, in all directions in the sky for
which the differential refraction does not
become too great, allow us, without man-
ual guiding, to obtain images which do
not exceed the limiting size of photo-
graphic point images (about 30 p), prac-

FtoJ 8. STAR PHOTOOBAPH WITH NEW SCHMIDT TELESCOPE

DTJJUirO TRlB aOrMINimS BXPOSUai! THK TIBLESOOFS 90LL0WSD THE STABS IH TS3B1B BXUBNAL MO-
TZOKS AND OOEBBCTBD FOR THEIR APPARENT OXSPLAOEliRNTS PBODUORR BY RlFRACTXOK OF THE
ATiCOSPaERB, ENTIRELY BY AUTOMATIC CONTROL OESCRQIBO IN THE TEXT.

288

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

FIG, 3. STAR AND METEOR SPECTRA

ANOTHER DIRECT PHOTOGRAPH OP A REGION OP
THE SKY WITH THE TELESCOPE GUIDED AS BEFORE,
IK WHICH THE STAR-IMAGES ARE SPREAD OUT
INTO SPECTRA BY A PUI»L-SlZED PRISM MOUNTED
IN FRONT OF THE TELESCOPE. THE LONG, BRIGHT
DIAGONAL TRACE IS DUE TO A BRIGHT METEOR
THAT FLASHED ACROSS THE FIELD DURING THE
40-MINUTR EXPOSURE.

•r

ticttl errors are introduced because of
the mechanical imperfections of the gear
train which couples the telescope tube
witli the driving motor. The deviations
of the drive were determined by observa-
tions of the excursions of a star from the
cross hair in the guide telescope attached
to the main tube. A 24-hour plot (in
five-minute intervals) revealed the ex-
istence of a periodic error of 8 seconds
of arc X sin (2nt/T-fa), where, if the
time, t, is measured in minutes, we have
T = 24 minutes, plus some additional
small and irregular errors. A poten-
tiometer driven from the telescope gear-
ing gives a sinusoidally varying voltage
of proper magnitude, period and phase,
such that, when this voltage is impressed
across the rate-adjusting coil of the time

standard, the periodic error is essentially
removed by alternately driving slower
and faster than the nornuil rate.

For routine exposures of 30-minute
duration, the procedure has been to set
the telescope at the desired position for
taking the photograph, set the rate dial
at the proper value, start the film expo-
sure, leave the telescope for the exposure
period and return only to close the shut-
ter and to change plates. It is now pos-
sible for one person to take photographs
practically continually and yet have all
the plates developed, marked and par-
tially examined by the end of the night.
This speeding up of the work with
Schmidt telescopes should prove particu-
larly effective for programs such as the
search for supernovae and common no-
vae, whose early discovery is of impor-
tance.

In Pigs. 2 and 3 are reproduced en-
larged sections of films which were ob-
tained with the 18-inch Schmiidt tele-
scope driven entirely automatically. The
direct photograph in Fig. 2 shows that
the diameters of the images of the faint-
est stars are only slightly larger than
30 p which is approximately the diam-
eter of the limiting photographic image.
Pig. 3 is the enlarged reproduction of
an objective prism photograph obtained
during a 40-minute exposure which was
guided entirely automatically. Both
the slight increase in the size of the im-
ages in Fig. 2 and the slight widening of
the spectra in Fig. 3 are due to the small
irregular differences between the motion
of the telescope tube and the motion of
the stars, differences which still remain
after the average rate of driving is set
correijtly and the fundamental periodic
error of the worm gear is automatically
comi)ensated for.

For the classification of spectral types
of stars unwidened spectra as those
shown in Fig. 3 are not suitable because
iyt the difficulty of identifying enough
spectral lines. The spectra may con-

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

289

veniently be widened with the automatic
drive by setting its rate slightly off from
the correct rate.

For some purposes, su(?h as the de-
termination of the magnitudes and col-
our indices of faint stars, very perfect
images are needed for the production of
which our automatic drive is not quite
accurate enough. Also, the work with
some of the filters requires exposure times

much longer than 30 minutes during
which the differential ref raction . both in
declination and right ascension may be-
fiome appreciable. In this special cafie
it is necessary to consult from time to
time the guide telescope and to reset the
position of the main tube in declination
and hour angles as well as to change the
rate of the drive.

E. J. PoiTRAs and P. Zwicky

INDIVIDUAL VERSUS GROUP MEDICAL CARE

National interest is being centered
upon the trial in Washington, D, C., of
the American Medical Association on
charges of violating the Sherman Anti-
Trust Act by “boycotting’’ the Group
Health Association, a local medical co-
operative. The trial, which opened on
February 5, is not expected to end be-
fore the middle of March, and, regard-
less of the verdict, it will probably exert
considerable infiuence upon the practice
of medicine in the United States.

The immediate occasion for the trial
was the attitude of the American Medical
Association and three other medical or-
ganizations towards the establishment of
the Group Health Association in Wash-
ington. Typical of a number of medical
cooperatives springing up throughout the
country, this group sought to carry out
a plan whereby the services of physi-
cians and the facilities of clinics should
be pooled and made available to sub-
scribers on the basis of monthly pay-
ments. The Group Health Association,
originally organized on an unofficial
basis among employees of the federal
government, received a $40,000 loan
from the government Home Owners^
Corporation and now has a membership
of about 8|000.

The Trust Division of the U. S. De-
partment of Justice^ which is acting as
prosecutor in this case, accused four
medical societies and twenty individuals
of monopolistic practices in coercing hos-
pitals and individual physicians into re-

fusing to treat G. H. A. patients. The
four medical societies named in the in-
dictment were the American Medical
Association, the Medical Society of the
District of Columbia, the Washington
Academy of Surgery and the Harris
County Medical Society of Texas. Fif-
teen of the individuals indicted are
physicians practicing in Washington,
while the others consist mainly of offi-
cials of the American Medical Associa-
tion, including Dr. Morris Fishbein,
editor of tlie Association’s Journal^ and
Dr. Olin West, secretary and general
manager of the Association.

The alleged “boycott” had gone on
for two years when indictments were
returned against the physicians and
the medical organizations. These indict-
ments were at first held invalid by the
District Court on the ground that the
practice of medicine was not a “trade”
within the meaning of the Sherman
Anti-Trust Act, but this ruling was re-
versed in March, 1940, by the Federal
Court of Appeals, which upheld the in-
dictment. The United States Supreme
Court refused to reverse the ruling
again, and remanded the ease to the
District Court for trial.

The views of the contending parties
were elaborated in the preliminary state-
ments made at the opening of the trial
by attorneys for both sides. John H.
Lewin, special assistant to the attorney-
general, accused the defendants of ob-
structing the organization of the Health

290

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Group and of handicapping its work.
The District Medical Society, for ex^
ample, was alleged to have sought to
crush and destroy’^ the 6. H. A. by
preventing any of its members from
joining the new clinic’s staff, by ob-
structing attempts to staff the clinic
with non-members of the society, by per-
sonal attacks on the men who did join
the staff, and by inducing all the local
hospitals to join in the boycott by re-
fusing courtesy privileges to G. H. A.
practitioners. He annoxinced that the
first witnesses on his side would consist
of well-known liberal surgeons who have
been prominent in the group health
movement and who would stress the
social advantages of the plan.

William E. Leahy, counsel for the
defense, criticized the management of

the Group Health Association, fie
cused its founders of being motivated
by commercial motives, and said that it
was dedicated to the disruption of the
traditions of the medical profession. He
accused the cooperative of seeking to
wipe out opposition to its medieo-eco-
nomic theories by undermining the
Anieriean Medical Association and the
District Medical Society. He accused
medical cooperatives of being economi-
cally unsound and unable to provide
patients with the care they promised.
He denied the allegations that the med-
ical societies had sought to hamper the
cooperative’s activities, liefusals of hos-
pitals to allow G. H. A. jiractitioners to
operate in their buildings were stated to
have been motivated solely by a desire to
keep their standards high. B.l.Q,

NEW AUDITORIUM AT THE COLORADO MUSEUM

In the closing years of the last cen-
tury, in a picturesque log cabin in the
heart of the Rocky Mountains, a small
eollei^tion of mounted birds and animals
was assembled by lovers of the fauna of
the West. Prom these humble begin-
nings the collection rapidly grew until
it attracted state-wide attention, and in
1900 it was incjorporated as the Colorado
Museum of Natural History. A large
mtiseum building was constructed in
1908, with funds supplied by the state
and by the city of Denvey, to house the
expanding collections of the museum.
Every ten years since that dgte has seen
the (fonstruction of new additions to the
museum’s plant. In 1918 the Standley
Memorial Wing was constructed, in 1928
the James Memorial Wing was built, and
the Phipps Auditorium — the newest ad-
dition — was begun in 1938.

The Phipps Auditorium, a new wng
to the main building of the Colorado
Museum of Natural History, was opened
recently in Denver. The dedication
ceremonies took place on January 11 and
included speeches by the governor of

Colorado, the mayor of Denver, the di-
rector of the museum and other digni-
taries.

The wing is named in honor of former
United States Senator Lawrence Phipps,
of Denver, who presented $137,500 to
the museum to construct the auditorium.
In presenting the gift, Senator Phipps
stated that he ^^had long appreciated
the desirability of a suitable auditorium
which would fulfil cultural needs by
making a common meeting place for
those interested in arts and sciences.”
A grant of $112,500 by the Public Works
Administration supplemented Senator
Phipps’s gift.

The building, designed by Boland L.
Linder, is 98 feet long and 140 feet wide,
and seats one thousand people. Space
is provided for a concert organ and the
stage can accommodate a seventy-five
piece orchestra. The latest type of
standard and 16 millimeter motion pic-
ture projection equipment has been in-
stalled, so that educational programs for
adults and children may 1^ presented.
Motion picture programs have been ar-

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

291

THE PHIPPS AUDITORIUM OF THE COLORADO MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY

WHICH WAS OPENED RECENTLY AND HAS A SEATING CAPACITY OP 1000 PERSONS.

ranged each Saturday morning for chil- tat groups will represent fauna and flora
dren, and a Sunday afternoon series for from localities throughout the Americas,
adults will include lectures by natural- and will include scenes from Bering Sea
ists, travelers and explorers. Islands, the Arctic ice floes, the Alaskan

Simultaneously with the construction tundra, the Bonaventure Islands off
of the Phipps Auditorium, work has been Newfoundland, and varied localities in
going forward on new cases for habitat Brazil. A number of specimens in these
groups in the Standley and James wings groups will be taken from the museum's
of the main building. These cases, il- bird groups, which will be dismantled,
liuuinated with fluorescent lights, will A group of W.P.A. artists, under the
have concave backgrounds with domed supervision of Curator Robert J. Nied-
ceilings, and will have plate glass fronts rach, are now painting panoramic views
feet high and 13 feet long. The habi- for each group. B. I. G.

THE CENSUS

It is said that statistics are dull. They tion provides tliat a census shall be taken
are to those who do not realize what they once in each ten-year interval. The
inean« But often they tell an absorb- census records that have accumulated
ingly interesting story, as do those con- sin^e the first census in 1790 now consist
tained in the Unit^ States Genisus. of more than 8,000,000 pages.

Whenever we attempt to obtain a pic- In 1790 about 95 per cent, of the popu-
ture of the amaiip: changite that have lation was rural; now only 25 per cent,
taken place in this country, we are grate- live on farms. But in general to com-
ful that the first article of the Constitu-* pare 1790 with 1940 is almost like com-

292 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHIA^

paring another planet with the earth.
Even since 1900 the changes have been
astounding. Forty years ago on the
average about 17.6 persons out of a thou*
sand died each year ; now only two thirds
as many. On the other hand, in 1900
about 80 children were born, on the aver-
age, per thousand of population; now
fewer than 17. In the eight years from
1921 to 1928, inclusive, 2,200,000 more
children were born than in the eight
years beginning in 1929. The decrease
in the young and the increase in the aged
are presenting many new problems.

Habits, even food habits, of the people
of the United States have changed
greatly. For example, in 1889 the aver-
age per capita consumption of wheat per
year was 223.9 pounds ; in 193f2 it was
162.2 pounds. The per capita annual
human consumption of com in the same
interval decreased from 117 pounds to
21 pounds. On the other hand there
were great increases in the consumption
of citrus fruits, for example. In 1920
there were twenty million orange trees;
in 1935, thirty-nine million. In 1920

there were three million graprfmt
treea; in 1985, thirteen million.
faddists will claim that these ohani^^/
diet explain the great decline in the
death rate, but an analysis will refute the
claims, for the greatest reductions in
death have been in those of infancy and
those due to infectious diseases. And
tho^e opposed to the eating of meat will
be dismayed by the fact that its per
capita consumption has decreased otnly a
little.

Perhaps some of these figures may be
thought to have a bearing on the fact
that in 1920 the average value of farm
land was $69 per acre and in 1935 only
$31. There are, however, many other
factors, including other habits of our
people and international markets for
farm products. A factor of major im-
portance is the very great reduction in
both the hours of manual labor and in'
the percentage of the population en-
gaged in manual labor, the percentage of
unskilled laborers having decreased by
25 per cent, between 1910 and 1980.

F. R. M.

THE SCIEhmnC'MQNimy

APRIL, 1941

SEA-INSIDE

BEING THE STORY OF SEA WATER— WHERE LIFE BEGAN—

WHERE LIFE ENDS

By Dr. IVOR GRIFFITH, FJLSA.

DXAN OF PHABltACYi PHILADELPHIA COLLEOB OF PBABICAOY AND 8C3XSNGB; PB0FE880E OF CHtOANXO

CHEMISTRY, WAONBR FREE INSTITUTB OF 801EK0B

“Oncb upon a time” (according to a
legend whi^ every history primer told
in the days before primary education
became secondary), King Canute of
Danish England, to impress his war*
riors with the limitations that even a
king must acknowledge, had his royal
chair carried to a beach nearby, where
the great North Sea flung its angry
waves against a sandy slope.

“Stop I” commanded the king— and
exactly as he expected it, the sea spat
spray in his face and sand slid in his
sandals. And accordingly, and ever
since, Englishmen the world over, on the
slightest provocation, eing ” Britannia,
Britannia — ^Rules the Waves.”

In any event a king’s attempt to stem
an angry tide and to address the sea
resulted in a ducking.

And somewhere in the literature of the
so-Ksalled popular science, I came across
another salute to the sea— penned by a
word'Wild ohmnist Here it is :

Oh, Sea, Thou mUm sad nndnUut squeou
■ohitloa of halldM, oarboaatao, phoiphstM, lul*
pbstas, sad other tnorgaaio eompouada What
aiystt^ae ooUoida are diq>eniod withia thy
■lights alkidiBe,, boeomt Vllutt sUeat 'and ua*
■eta roaetioBi Mbrate la dyaaailo equiUbrluai,
eoastaady destroyed aad iaetaatly restored
aawag thy naamabored eselUatiag moieonloef
What aaeouatod aiyrlade of reetlees loos ail*

grate perpetually throughout thy tentatiTely
eetbaated volumef What ungueesed pheaomeaa
of catalysis, metathesia, and oemoeis traaqiire
in thy eeeret fluid profundities under increased
pressure t What eosmie precipitates deseend in
countless kilogranu upon thy argillaceous gelat*
inous, silieeous, diatonuMeons and totally un-
illumined bottom t In short, most magnifleent
reservoir, what is thy flow-ebart and eomplote
analysist

Which to my way of thinking seems to
invite more of a drowning than a duck*
ing.

Yet, in this bucketful of words, are
reasons galore why the subject of this
presentation can not in the compass of
space available to it. And else than per*
functory treatment
And so, with a guarantee that the sub*
ject will be treated in such wise that its
depths will not be sounded, nor its sur*
face sailed so tediously as to nauseate
the most tmder minded — ^let us, together
—even when hope for a brief dissertathm
roems gone— sail on— sail on.

Shakespeare’s sea dirge seems a most
appropriate starting point :

Full fathom flve thy father Ues}

Of Ua boaee are eoral atade;

Those are pearls that were his syM:

Koihiug of him that doth fads
But doth suffer a soa-ehaags
Into somettiiag xleh aad straage.

Sea aymphs hourly riag Us kasU,

BaAl aow l*hoar them fliug. doag bdL

294

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

And the Bard of Avon, although he may
have been neither a chemist, nor a biolo-
gist, in the modem acceptance of terms —
was certainly an inspired, understanding
interpreter of the origin and destinies
of the material make-up of every living
creature that has ever existed on this
planet called earth. For it is from the
sea that all living matter came-— and the
sea will at last inexorably demand the
solubles of all the dead’s dissembled
residues whether it be by the short route
of Shakespeare’s, or by the longer road
suggested in Bryant’s ^^Thanatopsis”:

Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man.

We shall not of necessity go down to
the sea in ships — ^but certainly in chips —
of molecular matter, borne to the ulti-
mate solution of all our griefs, and
wrapped in a blanket of water.

The Solution of Life and Death

Water preceded life on this planet.
That is obvious — and reasonable, for
where there is no water there can be no
life. No matter whether life elects to
serve its time in the simple, single-celled
amoeba, or in the trillion-celled, compli-
cated and conceited creature called man
— short indeed would be its stay unless
it had the varied services of its versatile
ambassador — ^water. Life comes to us
wrapped up in water, and death, so often
the solution of all our prbblems, is also
always a water reaction. Indeed, water
gets us even after death, for it is largely
through its agency that nature uses our
substance over again in the fabrication
of other creatures, so often improve-
ments over the originals. And in this
solvent cyclic scheme the sea is most
important.

But, asks some one, whence came the
seat And the answer is easy if the
imagination is elastic. According to
that great group of guessers, the nebular
hypotheticators, headed by the great

Frenchman LaPlace, the earth was onee
devoid of water.

DiFFmENT Drops of Bain

All one has to do is picture this world
primordial — ^let us say a billion or two
years ago — a hot ball of matter, broken
here and there with fissures from which
issued streams of molten rock. The
original thin atmosphere has enlarged,
and finally there has come a time when
the water vapor produced by the electric
union of hydrogen and oxygen arrives at
dew point — and down come the first
diffident drops of rain that this world
ever knew.

And what a hissing, steaming recep-
tion the gigantic cauldron called earth
afforded this first aqueous visitor. Back
to the sky the water molecules scamper,
there to await until the cold dome of
heaven again condensed them into a
cloud.

Cloudburst after cloudburst fall like
Chinese regiments, and earth is a vast
distillery. At last, however, heat gives
in and water gains its victory. The skin
of the earth is cool, and water remains
in its cavities. Hot, muddy puddles
grow to dismal ponds, and ponds to life-
less lakes — ^the lakes in turn become the
dank primeval seas, and the seas the
heaving oceans.

And yet no life.

Not a single blade of grass — ^not a crea-
ture on the land or in the churning water
— ^nothing but bare, hot rock, hissing,
crackling, crumbling, underneath relent-
less showers. Fire and water are the
only busy realities — and fire is now the
slave and servant — and water monarch
of all it surveys.

Then came Life.^ Just how — ^just

1 E. E. Free, writing in the Forum about the
generation of life, states: ^*We can now calen-
late what was the composition of the air and
of the ocean when in the course of time the
earth became cool enough to hold a watery ocean
at all. The air contained no gaseous oxygen as
it does now. All the oxygen had gone into
chemical combinations. Whether the air eon-

SEA— INSIDE

295

when — ^juat why — ^no one seems to know.
But certain it is that water mothered all
things living. Certain it is too, that
some day — ^far away — ^water will leave
the earth again — ^and leave it like the
moon, a cold and lifeless ball.

Dr. Lowell, the famous astronomer,
went so far as to describe the agonies
that our descendants would suffer, and
the tremendous irrigation schemes which
they would of necessity devise as their
water supply grew less and less. Pos-
sibly the canals and waterways in Mars
are evidence of such a current calamity
in that far distant planet. This, of
course, somewhat discounts Tennyson’s
song of water, which ends with ‘‘For
men may come and men may go, but I go
on forever.”

The Bible is much less verbose in its
explanation of the birth of the sea. For
in Genesis 1: 10 we read — ^“And God
called the dry land earth, and the gather-
ing together of water called He Seas —
and God saw that it was goodl”

But the first sea-water was fresh water,
free of its present plethora of solubles,
and certainly lacking in salt. Yet know-

tained any gaseous nitrogen is uncertain. What
it unquestionably did contain was carbon mon-
oxide, the deadly gas, — existing in the exhaust
of automobile engines — and prussic or hydro-
cyanic acid. In the primitive ocean, having
absorbed gases, and therefore fuU of deadly
prussic acid and overlaid by an atmosphere con^
taining large amounts of a poisonous gas no less
deadly, the first life arose. It is reasonable to
assume that there occurred some natural chem-
ical synthesis of glycocoll or of a similar mate-
rial. GlycocoU is the simplest amino acid, com-
posed of four elements, oxygen, hydrogen, car-
bon and nitrogen obtained either by destructive
treatment of protoplasm with caustic chemicals,
or by a succession of chemical reactions between
the three substances of the primeval ocean men-
tioned: prussic acid, carbon monoxide and water.
During the three or five billion years which were
to elapse before the period when we find actual
traces of life in the rooks, there was ample time
for such simple substances, as glycocoll, to un-
dergo additional chemical changes and combina-
tions and to be built up into more complicated
forms perhaps at last into substances equivalent
to our modem protoplasm.*^

ing the hunger of water for that which
is substantial, solid and soluble, it is
easy to surmise how soon the sea came to
be briny and as full as it is of something
of every element.

From the first fresh water of universe
to the present state of the sea is a tre-
mendous development. Contemplate,
for instance, upon this estimate of chemi-
cal content of just one cubic mile of old
Atlantic’s waters, as compiled by some
professor who prefers this sort of dab-
bling arithmetic to teaching horse sense
to his classes. Here it is: 128,284,403
tons of sodium chloride or common salt;
17,946,522 tons of magnesium chloride;
358,270 tons of magnesium bromide;
1,400 tons of fluorine combined as fluo-
rides ; and a minimum of 90 tons of iodine
combined as iodides; to say nothing of
the thousand and one other solids con-
tained in lesser proportions.

Indeed the composition of the sea* is as

2 The composition of ocean water differs in
various parts of the world. Generally speaking,
it is less concentrated near the shores because
of the influence of fresh water rivers. The fol-
lowing is an analysis of the water in the English
Channel ten miles from the coast of France,
which liad a specific gravity of 1.026 at 15^ C.

Oaaeoua contents

In one
kilo,
liters

In one

liter.

liters

Atmospheric air

0.0120

0.0128

Free carbonic acid

traces

Free hydrogen sulfide

traces

Solid contents

Gm.

Potassium chloride

0.00763

0.10019

Sodium chloride

26.09300

26.78913

Lithium chloride

0.00042

0.00048

Ammonium chloride

0.00178

0.00188

Magnesium chloride

3.19300

8.27700

Sodium iodide

0.00920

0.00944

Sodium bromide

0.10005

0.10882

Magnesium bromide

0.03084

0.03168

Calcium sulfate

0.09017

0.92540'

Potassium sulfate ....

0.00919

0.00948

Sodium sulfate

2.57260

2.64012

Magnesium sulfate

0.32736

0.83597

Magnesium phosphate ...
(Ammonio-magnesium)

0.00046

0.00047

phosphate

•tgu

dgna

Cidcium carbonate

0.13000

0.18952

296

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

SALT FBOM OCEAN WATER
aorioola’s process/’

complicated as the composition of th^
land that it covers, and of the silt and
soil that surrounds it — ^for it is natural
that a share of every substance on and in
the earth must sometime find the sea.

Magnefiimn carbonate ... * traces traces

Iron carbonate 0.00021 0.00021

Manganese carbonate signs signs

Silicic acid 0.01420 0.01457

Organic matter signs signs

Pure water 066.60640 991.01577

Total 1000.00000 1026.80000

Further out from shore the proportion of
sodium chloride may rise to 36 or 87 parts per
thousand. In inland seas the proportion of salt
is often very much greater than that of the
ocean, thus the amount of solids in the water
of the Great Salt Lake of Utah has varied be*
tween 15 and 20 per cent., while in the Dead
Sea of Palestine there is 27 per cent, of solids.

How little nnderatanding of this im>
portant fact ia found in the words of
another poet who has taken every adjeo*
tive out of universe leaving this barren
bit of pouting poetry :

The earth is just a lot of dust,

The sky ’s a lot of air,

And tho sea ’s a lot of water
That happens to be there.

What a fool’s philosophy is reflected
in the words and what a monument to
ignorance. For in the salt of the sea
alone is sufficient romance of origin and
diversity of use, to intrigue not only
those who write, but those who also
think.

Salt, or sodium chloride as the chemist
calls it, is a benign alliance of two
malignant elements, sodium the swash*
buckling, arch-enemy of water, and chlo-
rine, the green-eyed ugly gas, so poison-
ous to life that the god of war himself
has used it as a mighty weapon. Yet
when wed, these toxic devils lose their
elemental fury, and lead a useful, mild
existence.

The physical properties of salt be-
speak its mild-mannered meekness. Solu-
ble in water, non-toxic in moderate
amounts, non-combustible and stable to
a high degree, it becomes one of life’s
most valuable servants. Without its
competence of salt the animal body
would soon be derelict, for as we shall
later prove, every living cell in that busy
tissue called blood must have its share
of salt to enable it to keep life’s flres
burning.

Yet by the same token, salt in excess
is a violent poison, and in China suicide
by salt is said to be a much maneuvered
means to an economical end. Ship-
wrecked mariners know full well the
menace of drinking sea water — ^though
sea water runs in their veins.

But how or why came the salt of the
sea is another moot question. In Child’s
’’Oeology” of 1832 we are told that '*He
who formed the earth and the sea knew
that by saltness only could the ocean be
kept sweet and that this saltncss is abao-

SEA->INSn)E

297

Intely neoeasaiy in order to preserve the
ocean from putrefaction.” And this is
not as childish as it sounds.

If it is true that the earth vras formed
by the gradual cooling of a molten mass,
it is reasonable to suppose that the
primeval ocean formed out of an atmos-
phere of water vapor was fresh-water
ocean. Then by the incessant weather-
ing and solution of the rocks the salt
has been leached out and has accumu-
lated in the ocean from which there is
no outlet for its surplus material, except
for its volatiles wMch go back to the
atmosphere by evaporation. There are
some who believe that much of the salt
in sea water is actually produced there
by interaction between sodium sulfate
and calcium chloride, both of which are
carried into the sea by the rivers that
constantly feed it. By a merry exchange
of acid radicles the calcium chloride is
converted into the less soluble calcium
sulfate or gypsum, which sinks to Davy
Jones’s locker, and the sodium sulfate
into sodium chloride or common salt,
which gives the sea its salty sweetness.
Such a process is a very simple, yet a
very certain bit of chemistry.

And millions of years of continuous
washing and bleeding of the solubles of
earth to the sea have taken their toll
from the land, exactly as the land has, at
times, taken its toll from the sea.

Thb Six Caught Naffino I

For in the hectic, heaving changes that
have come to the surface of earth, the
sea has more than once been caught nap-
ping. During such upheavals, sections
of ocean have been cut off by the careen-
ing land, to form isolated salt lakes. The
sun has dragged the water from many
of these li^es, leaving large deposits of
salt and other soluble substances. Some
such deposits are found right on the sur-
face of the earth and others are under-
ground, having been covered by more
recent formations.

In other words, what man is doing
to-day in isolating tracts of sea-water
and separating the salt by solar evapora-
tion must have been practiced by nature
on a large scale throughout Ibe ages.
The alternating layers of salt and cli^
that are found in some rock-salt deposits
are explained by the fact that the clay
represents the mud that was brought
into the lake during the rainy seasons.

The immense salt deposits of Utah and
Nevada were once the beds of prehistoric
salt lakes, and so is our famed Great
Salt Lake the remains of a large inland
sea that once covered that particular
area. Should the climate become drier
than it is now the shrinkage of the Great
Salt Lake, which has been going on for
ages, will continue until a huge salt
deposit remains.

All over the earth tremendous deposits
of salt attest to the drying up of pieces
of the primeval oceans, and somewhere
in the Carpathian mountains is the most
noted of them all.

The Chamber of Commerce of Wei-
licza, where these salt mines have been
worked since the eleventh century,
proudly announces to the world that the
unworked deposits are still 500 miles
long, 30 miles wide and nearly half a
mile deep— which comforts one with the
thought that although all the coal and
the oil of the world will some day be de-
pleted, there will always be salt enough
to season our soups and to keep our Sun-
day mackerel sweet and wholesome. But
enough for the moment of such land-
lubber, reflections, and let us hie to the
sea again.

Now there are so many seas — good seas
and bad seas, deep seas and shallow seas
— blue seas and blade seas — ^live seas and
dead seas— that for our specific peda-
gogic purpose here, we had better select
just one — ^row with courage to its very
cmiter, and then with one gargantuan
splash, plunge, eye-open, to its mHw
cellar.

298

THE SCIENTIFIO MONTHLY

The Sea You See Is the Dead Sea

You are now in Palestine, and in deep
water already. The sea you see is the
Dead Sea — ^the saltiest sea in existence.
It is deliberately selected as our sample
sea because it is different, and because
the world strangely owes it an apology.
Maligned for centuries by people who
did not understand its real character,
called ^‘Dead** because it is so heavily
loaded with mineral salts that nothing
living seeks its waters — charged with
evolving such a miasmatic vapor that
even sea-gulls are sea-sick when they
essay to cross it; reported as being so
buoyant with salt that those who sailed
it never carried the customary life savers
— such has been the reputation of the
so-called ‘ * Dead * ’ Sea. Even the climate
of the valley where it sullenly rests is
reported in old travelers’ tales as dread-
ful and deadly.

But the old ‘‘dead” sea was only
‘ ‘ playing possum. ’ ’ Within the last few
years so many things have happened on
its shores, and so many age-long beliefs
disproved, that ‘‘the Dead Sea to-day is
a thing of life, pulsating with health
and conferring benefits on thousands of
human beings.” These are the words of
Major T. G. Tulloch,® upon whose recent
lecture before the Royal Society of Arts
in London, England, these paragraphs
are freely drawn.

Palestine is governed under a British
mandate, and Major Tulloch and his as-
sociates being Britishers have readily
secured a concession to exploit the possi-
bilities of the Dead Sea after numerous
analyses had convinced them that its
waters were a vast potential source of
common salt, potash and bromine. They
organized Palestine Potash, Limited,
which started practical work in 1930.
The astonishing progress made since
then amply confirms their judgment, and
proves that man at last has been able to

’ From Arthur D. Little ’s Induatriai Buttetin.

do what the crab, the d;:ate and the
lobster have done ever since their origin
— ^namely, to grab and grasp for their
own the chemicals that exist in the sea.

As the fresh water from the Jordan
and other streams dilutes the surface
water, sounding experiments were made
which showed that the salinity increased
in proportion to the depth, until at some-
thing like 200 feet a constant analysis
was noted. A 30-inch pipe line, 2,800
feet long, was therefore laid out from the
shore to approximately this depth, and
pumps provided which discharge into an
open canal. Along the shore and en-
circled by the canal, great evaporating
pans covering thousands of acres were
constructed. Most fortunately for the
success of the venture the local soil,
which is alluvial clay, proved impervious
to leakage, since a porous soil would have
involved an enormous expense in pan
construction.

The pans are about two feet deep, and
the water from the canal goes first to the
upper series of pans. Evaporation is by
the sun’s heat, assisted by the steady
breeze which blows all day from the
south and all night from the north for
most of the year. As evaporation pro-
ceeds, the concentration of salt increases,
until the least soluble of them, namely,
sodium chloride or common salt, is first
deposited. The liquor is then run into
the next lower series of pans, where,
under continued evaporation, the double
salt of magnesium and potassium chlo-
rides known as ‘‘camallite” is thrown
down. The remaining liquor from these
pans is heavy with magnesium bromide,
from which bromine itself is separated
easily. Potassium chloride, 98 per cent,
pure or better, is separated from the
camallite by washing with fresh water.

The important part which the mineral
resources of the Dead Sea are destined to
play in the world’s economics is indi-
cated not only by reason of the simplicity

SEA— INSIDE

299

BTHTIr-DOW CHEMICAL COMPANY PLANT AT KUKB BEACH, NOBTH CABOLINA.

of their production, but also on account
of their vast quantities, which, computed
to close limits, are as follows :

Millions of Tons

Magnesium chloride 22,000

8o£um chloride (common salt) 11,000

Oalcinm chloride 5,000

Potassium chloride 2,000

’ Magnesium bromide 1,000

Moreover^ it is estimated that an addi-
tional 40,000 tons of potassium chloride

is brought into the sea each year by the
streams flowing into it.

Major Tulloch calculates that if potash
from no other source were available the
quantity existing in the Dead Sea would
supply the world's requirements for over
2,000 years, and by that time your potash
and mine will have sailed the seas again.

Shipment is made by motor truck to
Jerusalem, twenty-five miles away, and
thence by rail to the docks of Haifa,
some 115 miles in all.

Astonishing as are the values revealed

THE 80IENTIPI0 MONTHLY

bjr this development, the present status
of the Dead Sea as a health resort is even
more remarkable in view of its previous
sinister reputation. Major Tnlloch tells
us that the company has been at work
continuously, summer as well as winter,
for over four years, and there has not
been a single case of illness among the
several hundred workmen, though many
of them came from cold northern cli-
mates. Last year a seaside and health
resort named Eallia (which is Latin of
a kind for potassium), adjacent to the
potash company’s works, was opened on
April 30, and was patronized by hun-
dreds of visitors daily all through the
summer ; and on one occasion, in the mid-
dle of July, no less than 2,000 vacation-
ists came to dance to the tunes of a local
Ben Bemie, and to bathe in the light of
the Zion moon.

Thk Live "Dead Sea"

The remarkable healthfulness of the
northern shores of the Dead Sea appears
to be due to several factors, one of which
is the unique fact that at 1,300 feet below
sea level the air is so much denser that 6
per cent, more oxygen is brought into the
lungs at each breath than is the case at
normal or sea level. There is, moreover,
an absence of fogs and an extraordinar-
ily clean, pure atmosphere. Added to
this are the stimulating and energizing
effects of bathing in the densely saline
waters of the Dead Sea.

And better than anjrthing else, so we
are informed, bathing’ frequently in this
buoyant sea has a beneficent dwindling
action upon those, who having honestly
won their cream puff figures, mostly by
exceeding the feed limit, hanker after
streamline design and a greater girth
control.

Another clever and spectacular British
achievement is a process originating in
Teddington, England, and described in
a recent bulletin of the Arthur D. Little
research organization:

With this new development it has been
found possible to pass ocean water
through a succession of filters which
entirely removes its salt content. Salt
dissolved in water may be considered as
a mixture of equivalent amounts of caus-
tic soda and hydrochloric acid intimately
mixed. In the English process, the salt
solution is passed through layer number
one, which absorbs the caustic soda, then
through layer number two, which ab-
sorbs the hydrochloric acid, then through
a similar pair of layers to repeat the
process on what may have escaped the
^t stripping. In this way, by remov-
ing the two parts separately, salt can be
eliminated, whereas there is no analo-
gous method of removing the chemical
sodium chloride (salt) as a unit, all at
once.

Perhaps the most interesting part of
the English method is the nature of the
absorbents used, which are not mineral,
but are CQmthetic organic chemicals of
the formaldehyde resin type. The base-
absorbing resin is prepared from tannin
and formaldehyde, and the acid-absorb-
ing resin from aniline and formaldehyde.
Regeneration is possible, so that a cycle
can be maintained. So far, the econom-
ics of the B}rstem have not been investi-
gated, but Chemistry and Industry, the
British periodical, has a real enthusiasm
for the possibilities for this process
which ‘’was the work of an ordinary
Englishman working in a British Gov-
ernment Laboratory.” Perhaps “ordi-
nary” should be qualified a bit in view
of the result achieved.

And now for a sea-swing closer to
home — and a real story of modem enter-
prise. It has been said by an English
physicist whose recorded dreams are his
profoundest gifts to science, that the
released atomic energy from one bucket-
ful of sea water would provide power
enough to dynamize the whole world’s
mighty fleet of ships. But he did not
envision the reality nor enlighten us as

SEA— INSIDE

301

to how that energy might be secured to
put to work.

To TBX Ssa roB Powbb

Not so, however, with the diligent
chemists of America, whose more practi-
cal minds sought to get from sea water
that which it would less grudgingly give.

For instance — ^when the automobile
became a democrat, and its owner a plu-
tocrat, the old-fashioned fuel would
hardly suffice for so sensitive and speedy
a driver. The high compression motor
growled and grunted with every explo-
sion of gas — and something had to be
done to stop it.

Along came Ethyl — ^tetra-ethyl lead —
and ethylene dibromide — in the manu-
facture of which bromine was most essen-
tial. Added to gasoline these chemicals
silenced its knock.

Bbouine and Gasounb

Now bromine is sister to chlorine, and
with the rest of the haloid quartette, fluo-
rine and iodine, spends most of her time
out at sea. Ten years ago, a paltry two
million pormds of bromine sufficed to fill
the medicinal and industrial needs for
this element and its compounds, and they
made it mostly from inland bitterns and
brines.

But when the anti-knock craze hit the
producers of motor fuel the usual sources
of bromine were totally inadequate.
And so to sea the chemists went — and so
successful was their queer quest that ten
times two million pounds of the stuff
now annually come from the sea. Mind
you, this is in spite of the fact that only
four grams of the element are contained
in every gallon of brine.

The Ethyl Gasoline Corporation and
latterly the Dow Chemical Company, at
the mouth of the Cape Fear Biver on the
Atlantic shores, beyond a promontory
that keeps the sea from river dilution,
have a magnificent modem plant which
pumps a billion gallons of sea a day

through its vast extracting processes.
The bromine is dislodged from its nau-
tical partnerships by the use of chlorine,
its zealous sister, a displacing technic
familiar even to freshmen. In this way
15,000 pounds of the vicious dlement
bromine are daily claimed from the sea.
For the time being other substances are
not recovered, although a special re-
search is now under way to broaden the
scope of the work.

Once it was thought that sea water
was a simple solution of salt. Modem
analyses, however, reveal its much
greater complexity. Out of the ninety-
two known elements, forgetting for a
while the dizzy isotopes recently brought
to confound an already confounded
chemistry, thirty-two separate elements
have been separately identified in sea
water. Many of them occur in such
small quantities that their presence can
be revealed only by the spectrographic
ana]3rsi8.

For a long time there was a tendency
on the part of the chemist to disregard
the importance of those substances which
are found in the sea water in minute
amounts, but recent discoveries in the
physiology of nutrition have taught us
to pay more respect to them. We know
to-day that iron, copper, manganese and
iodine are necessary for the normal func-
tioning of our bodies. Traces of silver
and gold and radium are also found in
sea water. More radium exists in the
mud of the sea than in the ordinary rocks
of dry land. Dr. Bobley D. Evans, of the
University of Califomia, has found.
His tests show that radium is being de-
posited constantly by ocean waters.
There is no hope of mining sea mud for
radioactivity. Dr. Evans made his ex-
periments merely to test his new method
of detecting extremely minute amounts
of radium and radon gas emitted by
radium. Each ounce of mud contains
three trillionths of an ounce of radium.

And who knows but that this radioao-

302

THE SOIBNTIFIO MONTHLY

tivity has much to do with the teeming^
pulsing life of the sea, that undetermined
something that grants the sea its great
fertility. The triple play — Shakespeare
to Hamlet to Horatio — There are more
things in heaven and earth than are
dreamt of in your philosophies” — ^must
contemplate the sea as well — ^for as yet
the secrets of the sea are only half
divulged. For there is a vital-energizing
force in sea water that is beyond its
chemical content.

Home-made Seas

Artificial sea water may be manufac-
tured, and it has been used more or less
successfully for a number of years for
inland bathing purposes.

But such waters have not been found
suitable for fish. Whether this is due to
the absence of certain chemicals, nor-
mally present in natural sea water in
minute amounts, or because the water is
not “alive,” is still as much a mystery
as it has ever been.

That there is still something else to be
discovered is indicated by substantial
evidence. It is known by fish culturists
that comparatively large quantities of
artificial sea water become quite suitable

SIXTEENTH CENTURY SALT MAKERS

BOILING DOWN BRINS SOLUTION.

for fish after a very small quantity of
natural sea water has been added and it
is allowed to stand for a week or so. The
water apparently becomes “alive,” as
opposed to the “dead” water which re-
sults when the various chemical constitu-
ents of sea water are dissolved in fresh
water.

Crystalline sea salt of commerce, or
the salts obtained by evaporating natural
sea water, when dissolved in fresh water,
likewise do not produce a water that is
“alive,” and the water prepared in this
manner is practically always inferior to
that prepared from chemicals.

Aquariculturists who wish to manu-
facture artificial sea water can have a
druggist prepare the following formula :
Sodium chloride (U. S. P.), 36 J ounces
(troy weight) ; magnesium chloride (C.
P., crystallized), 10} ounces; magnesium
sulfate (U. S. P.), 4i ounces; calcium
sulfate (C. P., anhydrous). If ounces;
potassium sulfate (N. P.), 1 ounce; mag-
nesium bromide (C. P., crystallized), 2
drams; and calcium carbonate (U. S.
P.), 1} drams.

This composition should be dissolved
in about nine gallons of spring or fresh
river water, and then sufficient water is
added until the specific gravity, which is
determined by means of a hydrometer,
is between 1.030 and 1.032, the range
which most fish prefer.

While water of approximately the
same composition has been used with a
certain amount of success in a number
of public aquaria and laboratories study-
ing marine life, if a small amount of
natural sea water — about one gallon to
ten of artificial water— is added and it is
allowed to age for a period, the results
are very much better.

The Noble Metals

It has been estimated that there exist
dissolved in the sea 18,300 million tons
of silver, and a cubic mile of sea water
is said to contain nearly a hundred mil-

SEA— INSIDE

303

lion dollars worth of gold, which despite
a giddy government’s attempt to comer
that coveted metal, is as yet as useless
a gold as the gold iJiat gilds the goldfish.
And though the actual gold content of
the sea varies from one to three ten-thou-
sandths of a grain to the ton^ some day —
and perhaps not such a faraway day, this
metal of metals will be mined from the
sea. Fritz Haber, the German chemist,
who successfully mined the air for niter,
failed to practicalize the claiming of gold
from the sea — but some day a Scotchman
may do it. Indeed Dr. Stewart (whose
name suggests a Caledonian origin), of
the Dow Chemical staff, operating the
sea water bromine plant in Carolina,
specifically states that ^‘now that the re-
covery of bromine, which is present to
an extent of less than four grains to the
gallon has been successfully executed, it
does not seem beyond reason to expect
the chemist of the next decade to extract
gold from sea water commercially.”

Midgley, vice-president of the Ethyl
Corporation, is not so enthusiastic, how-
ever. This is his reaction.

There is a much bigger problem associated
with sea water upon the solution of which de-
pends the future welfare of millions of people.
This problem is the commercial extraction not
of gold or of bromine but of water itself from
sea water. No one can say that water is present
in too small a quantity to be recoverable. The
present price paid for water in arid lands for
irrigation purposes indicates that the value of
the water in sea water is about the same as the
value of the bromine at present prices.

And now let us turn for a while to
some livelier aspects of the sea. Let us
get personal — admitting a lot, but im-
agining more.

« Since Dr. Haber published his analyses, new
quantitative analytical methods have been de-
veloped and applied. That variations in con-
centrations exist seems beyond dispute ; however,
one does not need to locate such a proposed
extraction plant at the points of low concen-
tration. Hence the minimum concentrations re-
ported are beside the point. It is only high con-
eentrationB that need be considered as pertinent
and Dr. Haber himself reported sample eonoen-
trations up to 8 parts per billion.

Si ^

HOPPER-SHAPED SALT CRYSTALS

DRAWN AFTIR A nOURR IN THB PENa-TZAO-XAlT*
Utr, OLDEST CHINESE TREATISE OE PHARMACOLOOT
AND PRARUAGOONOBT, WRITTEN 2700 TEARS BB-
PORE CHRIST WAS BORN.

Evolution we define as change, than
which there is nothing more permanent.
The evolutionist acknowledges the un-
ceasing change that goes on in cosmos,
earth and life. For him the everlasting
hills do not endure; he knows that the
continents lift and subside; that the
very elements of which earth and suns
are made are forever transmuting them-
selves. Energy as well as matter— is
shifting from one form to another.
Nothing is static in the inorganic world ;
nothing is fixed. And man’s climb first
to the top of his Simian roost, and down
again to his present two-legged state,
has been a long and arduous achieve-
ment.

Evolutionists claim that all life was
once marine or submarine — ^that the
antecedents of every creature now living,
originally like Venus, came from the sea.
And there are many evidences about
which incline to prove their story —
although a question thay have not been
quite able to answer convincingly is
where the sea secured its life.

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Sea Inside

One of the slender threads wherewith
they join their arguments is in the ve-
markable comparison which they make
between animal blood and sea water.
When blood is permitted to coagulate,
the clear, rather colorless serum or
plasma which separates, has, exclusive
of its protein content, a composition very
like that of sea water. It contains so
much sodium chloride — so much phos-
phates — and carbonates — and so much
combined iodine — ^in a ratio similar to
that of sea water.

The contention is that whereas we
were once limpid jellyfish that floated
lazily on the dark primeval seas — we are
now so evolved and involved that a share
of the sea floats diligently within us, with
an ebb and flow in every heart beat.*

B It will bo observed that the cells of the hu-
man body are aquatic, since they live as small
groups or communities in a watery environment
regulated by the blood stream and their own in-
dividual efforts. The human beings of the body
politic, on the other hand, are outwardly ter-
restrial and live on dry land. But, thanks to
Darwin and the others, encouraged and strength-
ened by spirited opposition to their views, it is
now generally accepted that we humans have de-
veloped from animals who were inhabitants of
the ocean. All these ages we have carried parts
of the watery environment with us. Those who
by chance read those words do so by looking
through thin films of salt water supplied by the
lachrymal glands. If these vestiges of the origi-
nal watery environment of the body politic were
allowed to dry up blindness would ensue. They
may throw the book away with a sigh of relief,
in which event they find momentary refreshment
by increased absorption of atmospheric oxygen,
again through a thin layer of salt water lining
their lungs. Later on, they may listen with
approval to criticisms of the wild ideas ex-
pressed in this paper; but they can do so only
by using little bodies of salt water which con-
stitute essential parts of their inner ears. Our
forgotten ancestors learned to see and to breathe
and to hear in salt water and we must perforce
do the same, so that we are at least partly
aquatic. To egress it differently, the surfaces
of our bodies in contact with air are all coated
with dead cells (skin, hair and finger nails).
The surfaces, external and internal, made up of
living cells (cornea of eye, inner ear, lungs,

Certain we are that life in na canid
not get along without the sea elements
that race in our blood stream. Lacking
the little salt that parades its molecules
constantly — ^through sleep and waking
periods in us — ^no longer would life
remain intrigued.

Blood, lost through hemorrhage, may
not be replaced with distilled water else
the recipient dies — ^but the injection of
an artificial sort of a sea water, which the
Pharmacopoeia calls ‘^Physiological Salt
Solution” is a safe procedure.

This aqueous solution contains slightly
less than 1 per cent, of common salt
(0.85 per cent.).

Bed blood cells are dissolved to death
by pure water. By salt solution they are
kept whole and alive.

States an old Welsh proverb in a much
clumsier English dress: “Salt brings
balm to every human woe — ^but it must
be as salt of tears, as salt of honest sweat
— or as salt in the heart of the sea. ” The
old Welshman whose nimble tongue and
nimbler wit composed this Cambrian
proverb could hardly have known that
the salt of tears, the salt of sweat, the
salt of blood and every body salt are
cycled from the sea.

Salt is eliminated in all our body secre-
tions. The average weight of salt con-
sumed by sensible persons is about one-
half ounce a day. Only a little more
than one sixth of this amount is retained
as necessary to bring the acid to our
gastric equipment, and for other uses,
the rest of it being eliminated. Thus
there is a ceaseless cycling of salt from
the quick to the dead, and back to the
quick again. It is for this reason that
drinking water containing an abnor-
mally large amount of chlorides is looked
upon with suspicion, unless the presence
of these chlorides can be explained on
other than a sewage basis.

digestive, urinary and reproductive tracts) are
all wet, Ac., aquatic.— -SoiXNTmo Mowtblt, 4fi:
246, 225-226, March, 1986.

SEA— INSIDE

305

WHrTHIBBTt

And every one knows that salt is essen-
tial to the welfare of the animal body.
It has been shown that animals wholly
deprived of it will weaken and even-
tually die. Indeed, there are few things
more distressing than the salt hunger
that comes from an insufficient amount
of salt in nourishment. One of the chief
functions of salt in the body is to pro-
vide the proper concentration for the
blood serum. It seems that the proper
functioning of the body depends upon
favorable conditions of osmotic pressure.
In order to maintain these conditions it
is necessary to regulate the intake of
water and salt within certain limits.
The attempt on the part of the body to
establish an equilibrium is recognized
when we recall that the taking in of a
large amount of salt causes intense thirst
and on . the other hand the excessive
drinking of water produces a desire for
salt Even sweat has its share of salt,
that of humans (who normally perspire
nearly a quart a day) containing 3/10
of 1 per cent, in the female, and nearly
4/10 of 1 per cent, in the male I

Then there is our mite of iodine from
the sea. And what a mite it is. Yet
vrithout it we are hopeless idiots unable
to regulate our body fires, and every-
thing we do we either overdo or underdo,
depending upon the functioning of the
iodine gland that keeps us in touch with
the sea.

OuB Mm or Ioukx

This gland, by the way, is present in
all vertebrate animals, beginning low
down in the scale, with the eels and
lampreys and complicating its structure
and increasing its size as the evolution-
ary scale increases. In fish, the thyroid
occurs as small scrubby patches little
larger than pin-heads and scattered
along the important blood vessels. Then
in the reptiles it is a little larger and
more compact, and still more prominent

among the birds and the mammalia.
But it is in the primates and in man that
it attains to greatest size. The farther
we are from our early home in the sea
the larger the thyroid gland — and since
evolution never stops its course more
than likely man’s appearance may even-
tually change, because of thyroid growth,
so that he will no longer be the good-look-
ing creature he now thinks he i»— but
he will have evolved into a pop-eyed, fat-
headed, chinless creature — ^the space be-
tween his chin and his collar button hav-
ing been taken over by his constantly
enlarging iodine plant.

But that is too far off to worry about.
Much can happen in a million years.
Listen. The high tide of this element
in the blood is about one grain of iodine
to ten million grains of blood, or less
than a hundredth of a grain to the entire
circulation. The reservoir of iodine in
the body, namely the thyroid gland, only
holds a third of a grain (about 25 milli-
grams) and in order to keep this reser-
voir full one only has to consume per
day, in his food or drink, less than a
thousandth of a grain of iodine. No
wonder some folks believe in homeop-
athy. It seems the Qreat Designer did I

FBT-nar

I do not know the canons of the
Church of Rome, nor its history, well
enough to identify the origin of the cus-
tom of sea-food for Friday. In any
event it is a good custom, for though
Friday euphoniously admits of a fry —
fried fish will furnish our weekly re-
quirements of iodine far better than
anything else we might fry, or try. And
so, much like the Mosaic indictment of
pork whereby our Jewish friends are
fienied the blessed privilege of a ripe red
ham unless they call it pickled salmon —
Friday for fish may have had a hygienic
sanitary origin.

Moses may have fooled Pharaoh with
a lot of phony tricks, but he led his
people with real thinking.

306

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

And while we are speaking of these
primitive, intuitive health precautions —
listen — ^while London was yet a muddy
fen and Rome a rambling village — China
had a mind of her own, and a culture of
her own as well. When the civilizations
of Athens and Rome were still in knee
pants — Cathay had spun her cycles.
Four thousand years ago the Chinese
had guessed that goiter was a dietary
deficiency disease — that it mostly at-
tacked people who shunned the sea and
found their safety far inland — ^that it
yielded to treatment with sea medica-
ments — ^salt of the sea — sponge from the
sea — sea weeds and coral.

Yes, indeed, the art of the ancients
was in knowing how — ^not why.

Burnt sponge was used in medicine
for centuries, only to be displaced in
modern times by iodine and its com-
pounds. Indeed the first Pharmacopoeia
of the United States, published in Boston
in 1820, gave it a place though it was
deleted in the next revision. So too was
a variety of burnt sea weed included.
To-day burnt sponge and bladder-wrack
are still used by the eclectic physicians,
who believe that these natural products,
in contradistinction to iodine or its defi*
nite artificial compounds, contain a
structural “something'* that must be
very different from pure iodine. And
they may be correct in their assumption.

A strange fact regarding sponge is its
property while alive of abstracting
iodine from sea water. In some tropical
species of sponge the iodine content of
sponge ash may run as high as 8 to 14
per cent., while sea-weed ash from which
some commercial iodine is obtained
rarely exceeds 1.5 per cent. Since it is
assumed that all the iodine in sponge
comes from sea water and sea organisms,
it has been calculated that one pound of
sponge contains the total iodine content
of twenty thousand tons of sea water.
Rather a remarkable figure.

Most sea organisms, plants and ani-
mals too are rich in iodine. Even the

humble oyster, whether brought up in
well-aired beds or not, contains bis share
of iodine.

Sea water contains about l/300th of a
grain of iodine to each gallon (0.05 mgm
per liter). It is of interest in passing
to note that the Great Salt Lake of Utah
contains but a little more iodine (about
l/200th grain to the gallon), whereas it
contains five times as much salt.

Of interest, too, is the fact that we have
enough iodine in the sea to last our chil-
dren for a long, long time. Practically
all the iodine on this planet is in the sea
and another dabbler in useless arithmetic
has figured that it amounts to a few
pounds short of sixty billion metric tons
which antisepticaUy and biologically
leaves us nothing to worry about.

South Carolina has capitalized the al-
leged heavy iodine content of her vege-
tables by ridiculously adding the word
Iodine to her automobile license plates,
and by circulating a silly slogan —

A potato a day

Keeps goiter away.

Which shows how the low surface tension
of ignorance can make even the so-called
authorities run away from sound sense.
The “Carolina Moon" iviU out

Yet much has been constructively done
to awaken the world to the realization
of the fact that iodine deficiency in food
is the commonest cause of goiter and
other diseases. The resulting world-wide
movement to insure the presence of suffi-
cient iodine in the diet to prevent these
dreaded diseases is one of the greatest
prevention measures undertaken by man
in the interest of good health. Yet the
wholesale methods used have not been
without danger, for there are types of
gland affections which are radically ag-
gravated by iodine medication, and are
only amenable to surgical care.

Had we more space at our command
we might have dwelt more fully upon
these prophylactic measures — such for
instance as the now tabooed charging of

SEA— INSIDE

307

drinking water with iodides, or the gen-
eral use of iodized salt Iodized salt,
containing from 0.02 to 0.025 per cent, of
iodine in the form of iodides, is now
available in the stores. But we repeat
that with community medication of this
kind, it must not be overlooked that
harm can come from feeding iodine to
individuals who already have enough or
too much, just for the sake of catching
those who have too little. It is a matter
always of individual treatment. Nor
must we overlook the danger of inducing
in the individual through over-dosage
that uncomfortable chemical disease,
iodism. Indeed it is not always a matter
of over-dosage, for to iodine as well as to
almost everything, there are persons who
display idiosyncrasy.

Yet in spite of our alleged progress in
the etiology and treatment of goiter and
other thyroid disorders, warning comes
recently (April, 1935) from Dr. Arnold
Jackson, of Madison, Wis., that thyroid
diseases are decidedly on the increase.
As many as four fifths of the girls and
one fifth of the boys living in the great
goiter belt, which extends from Boston
to Seattle, are afSicted with goiter, Dr.
Jackson found in a nation-wide survey
of the problem. Cretinism, resulting
from this type of goiter, is more preva-

lent in the United States to-day than at
any time in the nation’s history.

But we are digressing too far from
our text — and postponing too long our
*^Amen,”

So—nabruptly — come we to the close
of our sea sojourn — stopping at the har-
bor of “just enough.” There was much
more of the sea to be seen — ^and more to
contemplate — ^but like every other voy-
age, even a verbal voyage must have its
sensible end.

One hope, however, finds expression
here — and it is that my readers, touching
ground again, will fbd their land-legs
not unsteady, nor their minds still too
much at sea — ^for all the odd things we
have said.

And I end as I began — ^with a swing-
ing song that carries the cry of the
primal cell — ^the lilting, liquid, lullaby
urge of every living particle that con-
stitutes our bodies — the death-bed dirge
of every animate entity.

I must go down to tho seas again, for the call
of the running tide

Is a wild call, and a clear call that may not be
denied.

And all I ask is a windy day, with the white
cloud flying,

And the flung spray — and the blown spray — and
the sea-gulls crying.

^Masefield.

PKEHISTORIC TRADE IN THE SOUTHWEST

By PtofeMor HABOLD 8BI.1.BRS COLTON
DiuoTOB or inrsiuH or hobxbibn abuoma

The movement of goods from one part
of the country to another is an intrigu-
ing subject. Economics, religion and
esthetics furnished the driving force and
transportation a romantic intermediary.
As trade plays such a lively part of our
own lives we may wonder about trade
in the pre-Columbian past. Notwith-
standing the fact that study of pre-
historic trade demands the most highly
technical services of any brancti of
archeology, yet the archeologist has a
considerable fund of information at
hand.

However, whenever an archeologist
takes up the subject of trade he shortly
runs into problems that he himself is
unable to solve with archeological tech-
niques, so he must call on some man or
woman trained in some other service if
he wishes his problem solved. He may
need the services of a petrographer, a
chemist, a botanist, a soologist or some
other specialist. The progress that has
been made in the study of prehistoric
trade in the Southwest furnishes a splen-
did example of cooperation in science.

As the term trade has many meanings,
among which the exchange of goods is the
most common, perhaps commerce would
be a better word than trade, because we
can not always prove- an exchange of
goods. I am, therefore, going to diow
you some aspects of prehistoric eomtnerce
as archeological excavation has outlined
it in Arizona, which may or may not
include an exchange of goods.

To give you some idea of Indian com-
merce I will tell you about two historic
examples; examples, however, that seem
to have their roots in deep antiquity.
Until 1880 and the coming of the Atlantic
and Pacific Bailway, the Indians of
northern Arizona were little affected by

white men. Although the Apache had
dislocated more or less all commerce to
the south, yet the east-west commerce
across northern Arizona was still much as
it had been in prehistoric times and men
living to-day have had a part in it.

We will first consider a well-known
old trade route which ran from the
Pacific Coast in the Los Angeles area to
the Bio Orande. This trail in general
followed the route of the Santa Fe Bail-
road or U. S. Highway 66. From the
Cajon Pass to the Hopi Towns the trail
went north of the railroad because the
water holes were closer together. It
passed through the country of the Mo-
jave, Walapai and Havasupai Indians.
From the Hopi country it turned south-
east to Zuni and then east to the Bio
Orande near Isleta. Over this thousand
miles of trail, shell from the coast passed
to points on the plateau and along the
route other objects passed east and west.
Spier* reported how the Walapai In-
dians killed deer or mountain sheep and
traded the hides to the Havasupai, for
woven goods procured from the Hopi.
The Havasupai in their homes tanned the
hide and traded it to the Hopi for woven
goods and pottery. The Hopi manufac-
tured the bucksl^ into white boots for
their women or traded the hides or boots
to the Zuni or Bio Grande pueblos, re-
ceiving in return turquoise from Santo
Domingo, Mexican indigo from Isleta
and buffhlo skins from the plains.

This old trail was in active use in
1776, for Father Qarces* saw abalone
shells from the Pacific Coast, textiles
from the Hopi and textiles from the

* Leslie Spier, Anthrop. Taptn, Am. Mbs.
Nat Hist, VoL 89, part 8, 1988, pp. 84A-84S.

* Elliott Oouee, of a I^uhkUi Pic-

aeer,” pp. 885-828, New York, 1900.

308

309

PEEHISTOEIC TRADE

Spaniidi at Santa Fe at different points
in Western Arizona. He describes a
Hopi man and wife on a trading expedi-
tion to the Mojave.

This famous old trail is now aban-
doned, but the trade between these In-
dian tribes is still quite active, passing
over U. S. Highway 66. I have some-
times picked op hitch-hiking Indian
traders on the roads. When several
years ago, a bus was struck on a grade
crossing by a train at Isleta, New Mexico,
among the dead was a Santo Domingo
man returning from a trading trip to the
Hopi. This event was impressed on my
mind because he had spent the night be-
fore with the Hopis at the Museum at
Flagstaff. Indian commerce is not dead.

Probably the most interesting story
of aboriginal trade is that of curious red
paint, a particularly greasy red ochre,
procured by the Havasupai Indians from
a cave in the Tonto formation in the
Grand Canyon near the mouth of Havasu
Creek. This paint is in great demand by
the Hopi and other Indians for a face
and body paint. It is red, yet has a
metallio sheen. The Hopi Indians pur-
chase the paint from the Havasupai for
$5.00 a pound, write up the price, and
peddle it to other Indians, even as far
as the Rio Grande, for 25o a teaspoon.
This red paint is considered by the In-
dians of the Southwest a very superior
cosmetic.

Thu trade in red paint is of long
standing and formed the basis of an
inquiry ci^ed by the Spanish Viceroy
of New Spain near B1 Paso in the year
1691. After the Spanish were exp^ed
from New Mexico by tiie pueblos u^o
revolted in 16W, tiie Count <ff Galve,
the Viceroy, wrote a letter to Don Dkvp
pa Vargas, l3ien the Goveimor of NeV
ifexieo, who headed a govemmmit in
mdlC at Ml Paso. From Bq>inosaV
trlaidatiim of th^lettw I quote the fed-
IbwingexteaetB. T^elHkwrcy wrote j

« M. N0W UmIm Skt, Xw.,

8, lie, ApcB, 1^.

IN THE SOUTHWBBT

From tlie lu^unto of peraomi who have
there I am told that in the revolted proviaoe of
Ne# Mexico le located tiw provhice of Moqui
and that a distance of twelve leagues f'rom there
toward the big river (he means the Oolor^o r
l^ver) there is a range of mountaiiiB one of the
most prominent in those parts, in which is f omid
a metallic substance or earth contaiidag vermil*
lion. This is used hj the Indians to paint
themselves with, and by all the people especially
the Spanish women to preserve the com*
plexion. . . .

It is said that the metal is heavier than lead
and so liquid and greasy that it goes through
the leather pack saddles and pack cloths of the
pack animals on which it is carried and that
when carried leaves red stains, with the result
that it has commonly been held to be quicksilver.

As mercury ore was badly needed in
Mexico in the refining of silver and at
that time all was imported from Peru
or Spain, the finding of mercury ore in
New Mexico would be of great economic
importance. Therefore the Viceroy
ordered Governor De Vargas to inter-
rogate witnesses under oath as to what
they knew about it. So an investigation
was held at £1 Paso to which De Vargas
called military men, padres and others.
During the investigation the witnesses
told how this red ore was gathered from
a cave west of Oraibi. Although not
one of the Spaniards had seen the cave
they mentioned friends who had visited
it. They confirmed the data in the Vice-
roy *8 letter how Hopi traded it to Santa
Fe where the Spanish ladies preferred
it to all other kinds of rouge. On the
strength of this testimony De Vai^as
was ordered to make an expedition into
New Mexico. This he did and reached
the Hopi town of Oraibi, where he pur-
chased a burro load of the ore. He sent
it on to Mexico City, where it was aa-
8ayed« It proved t^ot to be an ore of
mereury. This little incident shows how
old the eommeroe in Havasupai red ochre
is. We have documental^ evidmice that
it was an article of tradq before 1980 as
it is an mrtide of ^ade tp-day.

I cPuld tdl of other ihodem IndUm
t)^d« snoh m f^uiereal and eermitc^iiial
gaments made by .the j^opi and tnded

310

THE SCIENTIFIG MONTHLY

to the Rio Grande, bat the oaaea -I have
reported will serve as examples as to }iow
Indian trade takes place at the present
time and it was probably not very differ-
ent in the past.

The aim of an archeologist is to out-
. line the history of a people by nncover-
ing the mess that they made when they
were alive, their houses, burial ground
and their city dumps. By excavation a
relative chronology can be built up by
stratigraphy and an absolute chronology
established by studying the annual rings
in timber or charcoal from the ruins.
After he straightens out the time
sequence he tries to distinguish different
cultures in time and space and from
these data reconstruct their history.

The archeologist must define the char-
acteristics of the people whose history he
is reconstructing. He must study their
material culture, that is the objects
manufactured by the people, houses,
stone implements, . pottery and the
thousand and one objects used in their
daily life. He wants to know the physical
build of the people so that he can know
to which race they belong. Thus he
studies the skeletons from the burial
grounds. To know if different tribes or
races are contemporary he tries to recog-
nize objects of commerce. To determine
the routes of trade he delves in the
geography of the country. To recognize
centers of population he makes an arche-
ological survey. *

In the past many archeologists dug for
the purpose of placing objects of an on
museum shelves. This aspect of arche-
ology is rather going out of style, but it
is still the easiest way to attract money
for archeological investigation. Now we
want to reconstruct the history and life
of a people as far as it is possible to do
so, and art is but one aspect.

The study of ancient Indian commerce
is' Hie most highly technical branch of
archeology and requires the services'of
technically trained investigators in many
ftHds of science. Archeologists them-

selves can only formulate the problem
because all the matarial has to be ac-
curately identified so that the source can
be determined.

Of all the aspects of archeology, a
study of Indian objects of trade costs
most in dollars and is the most difficult
to finance. We must thank those investi-
gatbrs and their institutions for making
identifications without charge to the
archeologists. If this generous aid were
not forthcoming we would know little of
aboriginal Indian commerce.

Marine shells form one of the best
sources for the study of Indian trade,
because marine shells were used for
ornaments and are found in prehistoric
sites all over Arizona and New Mexico.
To determine if they came from the Gulf
of Mexico, Gulf of California or the
Pacific Coast of California means that
they must be identified by a trained
malacologist or concholc^st, a student of
the Mollusca. Boekelmann in New Or-
leans and Hill at Los Angeles have been
rendering this service to archeologists
but curators of other east and west coast
musetuns have been giving their valuable
time as well.

To determine the source of stone ob-
jects and the stone used in pottery for
temper requires the services of a petrol-
ogist who makes thin sections of the pot-
tery and studies the sections with
polarized light, and measures the crystal
faces of the minerals. It takes a highly
trained man or woman to do this and
interpret the results. Dr. Anna Shepard,
of the Carnegie Institution, has been
preeminent in this fidd.

To determine the source of some mate-
rial we must call in the chemist, umng
ordinary methods of analysis or a spec-
troscope, An ornithologist, from the
bones of birds, must recognize the species,
and, from mammal bones, a mammalogist
nrast idmitify mammals. An ethno-
botanist must be esUed in to detendne
the source of fibers usefi in bodcetry md
remainB of food plants uneove^ fMm

PBBHISTOEIC TEADE IN THE SOUTHWEST

311

MAP OP THE SOUTHWESTERN PART OP THE UNITED STATES

BHOWINO TRB LOCATION OF THX DIFFERIINT INDIAN TVIBXS CALLED ‘'BEANCBEB" AT ABOUT 1100
AJ>. TBB NAMES OF SOME OF THEBE BBANCHEB HATE BEEN BUOOEBTED BT OLAOWIN, OTHSES BT
MEBA, BOOEBB AND THE AUTBOB. THE MAF ALSO 8HOWB THE VABIOUS TBADE BOUTE8, FABILT

AFTEB BBAND.

the ruins. He can tell the archeologist
from what area the plant products were
gathered ||>r grown. So jrou can see that
many sciences must be called upon in the
study of prehistoric commerce.

Prehistoric commerce may have three
phases; Manufactured goods, such as
textiles or pottery, may be made in one
area and consumed in another. Natural
products, such as dtiells, pipestone, tur-
quoise or salt, may be . gathered by the
people of one area and consumed by the
people of another area. At a red argillite
quarry near Del Bio, Arisona, fliere is
a Pueblo ruin which is covered with frag-
ments of the red rock. Evidently the
local people quarried tiie rock and
traded it to other places. On the ^er
hand, a oonsumer might travel a long dk-
taAoe and gather the shell, the sidt or
the torquoise himself and carry it home.
Begem* hetieves, for example, that the

< M. B. HsErbiftaa and M. J. Bogen, Btm
Him. 4*va., 1; 1, Pebmary, IMS.

pueblo people may have gone to the Mo-
jave Sink in California to mine tur-
quoise. Expeditions of this sort do not
constitute trade in the true sense, for
here there was no exchange of goods, so,
as the archeologist can not distinguirii
between them, as I said before, we will
call any objects produced in one area
and consumed in another commerce or
trade.

In prehistoric Indian commerce, we
must remember that there were no beasts
of burden. Everything had to be carried
on the backs men and only goods of
little bulk and high value such as dyes,
pigments, fine textiles, ornaments and
mnll attractive pottery vessels consti-
tuted tiiis commerce. Necessaries which
had bulk, although denved, could not be
transported. 'Hiis was true also of the
old world, where overland caravans
carried objects pf high worth and IHtle
bulk, su^ as dlk andspiccs.

We know nothing about the organisa-

312

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

A HALTOTI8 SHELL

THESE SHELLS (7AME r%OM THE PACIFIO COAST.
THE HOLES AEB PLUOQED WITH ASPHALT TO MAKS
A BOWL. THIS SPECIMEN WAS EXCAVATED FROM

THE RIDGE RUIN NEAR FLAGSTAFF, ARIZONA.

tion of prehistoric Indian trade. Were
objects traded from village to village or
were trading expeditions organized t
We do know, however, that the South-
western Indians trade as individuals and
at times have organized armed bands for
the purpose of trade with distant centers.
The Aztecs organized such expeditions;
the Pima, Hopi and other Southwestern
tribes sent out trading parties to visit
distant tribes. Bands of Santo Domingo
traders often visit the Hopi and NUvajo.
Hopi traders visit the Zuni or the Bio
Oraude. We can reason by analogy that*
the ancient people did the same.

These trading parties were different
from tlie caravans of the old world, where
there was a division of labor among the
members of the party. In the old world
we find a group of traders, with soldiers,
camel boys and camp followers. Aa far
as we know in the Southwest every ^n
was for himself, he was the trader, ^ck
animal, and soldier. There ,was little or
no division of labor.

The prehistoric Indians of Arizona
had no medium of exchange such as
wampum. Their ornaments, shell and
turquoise probably served this purpose
just as the pueblo Indians and the Navajo
use silver jewdry at the present day.

To understand the flow of prehistoric
Indian commerce we must reeogniee and

locate on the map prehistoric Indian
tribes. These Indian tribes are separated
from one another by such traits as one
can find in excavation — ^burial customs,
architecture, pottery and other evidences
of material culture. As we know nothing
of the language and social organization
of prehistoric Indian tribes, it is better
to follow Qladwin° and call prehistoric
social units branches. In the Southwest
about the year 1100 of our era archeol-
ogists recognize something over 21
branches, each one of which we might call
a tribe. Between these branches are
evidences of commerce of some volume.

In this paper I will frequently men-
tion some prehistoric site in New Mexico
and Arizona, so it will be well if I say
something of the branch in which they
are located. In southern Arizona in
our Middle Ages a culture flourished
which we call the Hohokam. A site most
thoroughly excavated and reported upon
by Gila Pueblo is Snaketown.®

A culture that flourished south of the
San Francisco Peaks in central Arizona
we call the Sinagua. Tuzigoot in the
Verde Valley, Wupatki, Blden, Turkey
Hill, Bidge Ruin belong to this culture.
At Winona, 17 miles east of Flagstaff,
lies a site which represents a Hohokam
migration into north-central Arizona. In
northwestern Arizona, the Kayenta
branch included such important sites as
Batatakin, Inscription House and Kiet
Siel. In southwestern Colorado the Mesa
Verde Branch includes the important
cliff pueblos of the Mesa Verde National
Park. The Chaco Branch occupied
northwestern New Mexico. Pueblo
Bonito and Chettro Ketl are important
sites in this culture. Across the Bio
Grande, southwest of Santa Fe in New
Mexico, the important pueblo of Pecos
was excavated by Kidder. The trade

• W. and H. 8. Gladwin, MedalUon Papers^
No. IS, 1934.

s H. 8. Gladwin, E. W. Ratify, B. B. Saylsi
and N. Gladwin, HodaUion Papers No. 83, ToL
1, 1887.

PREHISTORIC TRADE IN THE SOUTHWEST

313

material found in these sites and many
others form the substance of this paper.

Fragments of ornaments made from
marine shells are found in most sites in
the Southwest. All these shells were
gathered from the ocean, and so they
all represent commerce. Dr. Donald
Brand^ has made an especial study of
prehistoric Indian commerce in shell,
tracing them from the Qulf of Mexico,
Gulf of California and the Pacific Coast
to different parts of Arizona, New
Mexico, Colorado and Utah. Dr. Brand
based his conclusions on the study of
reports of archeological excavations. He
found that in most reports of archeologi-
cal excavations the identification of shells
was performed in too sketchy a manner
to be of much use, but in a number of
recent works and a few of the older re-
ports the shells were identified by recog-
nized malacologists. Dr. Brand reported
88 species from the Gulf of California,
9 species from the Pacific coast, 10 species
that might have been found either in the
Gulf of California or the Pacific coast,
and 9 from the Gulf of Mexico; all the
latter are found east of the Continental
DivMe in New Mexico except a couple
of doubtful identifications from the Salt
River Valley.

Dr. Brand did not have access to the
recent work of the Museum of Northern
Arizona in the Flagstaff area. On hav-
ing our shells from the Hopi Country
and Flagstaff identified by Boekelmann
and by Hill we found we had added seven
species to Dr. Brand’s list of 66 traded
marine shells. Three are found only in
the Gulf of Oalifornia, three are found
only on the Pacific Coast, and one is
found on both coasts.^

7 Donald D« Brand, Tear Book of PSeiflo
Ooaet Oeograpkera, Vol. 4, p. 3, 1938.

sTke foUowing eheUe, excavated near Flag’
staff, are not mentioned in Brand, 1938. From
Gttlf of Oalifornia: oersioolor, Tuffi-

UUa poniostoma and ^IpeimerU tMetata* From
Paeiile Ooast: MaUoiii eorrupata. From Gulf
of Oalifornia or Paelfio Coast: Pcmope peneroM
Dentaliain %9oh«xipmium md D^niatium

From the Pacific Coast the most im-
portant shell carried into Arizona and
New Mexico was the abalone shell called
Halioiis. This shell is not found in the
Gulf of California, so it foi*m8 the best
indicator for Pacific Coast trade. It
was used for dishes when the holes were
plugged with asphalt and small irides-
cent fragments of abalone mother of
pearl were carved and used for orna-
ments.

The Indians of the coast made fish
hooks of abalone shell. First they cut an
oval piece out of the center of the shell.
Then with a piece of flint they bored a
small hole off center. This hole they

FIBH HOOKS OF HALIOTI8 SHELLS

THIS MANUFACTUBE WAS AK IltFOBTANT INDUS-
TBY OF THE PACIFIC COAST IKDUNB. (a) HALI-
OnS SHELL WITH BLANK OUT OUT WITH THE
OHBBT FLAKE (g). (b) BLANK GUT FBOM THE

SHELL, (e) AND (d) BLANKS DBILLED AND
' BEAHim WITH IMPLEMENT (f). (e) A FINISHED

FISH HOOK, (h) A PAIB OF EABBINOS FBOM THE
BIDOE BUIN NEAB FLAGSTAFF, ABIZONA, WHICH
ABE OBVIOUSLY MADE OF BALIOTI8 SHELL fTSB
HOOK BLANKS WHICH BAD BEEN TBADBD INTO
NOETHEBN ABIZONA. THE PHOTOGEAPHS OF THE
STAGES IN MANUFACTUBE WBBE FUBNIBBED
THBOUOH THE GOUB!^t OF ABTHUB WOOBWABD
OF THE LOS ANGELES MUSimM.

314

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

GLYCIHEBIS SHELL AND BING

OLYCXMKtUS SHELL^ LEFT* WHICH IS ONLY
FOUND IN THE GULF OF CALIFORNIA. BIND, BIGHT,
MADE FBOM A GLYCIHERIB SHELL BUT FOUND AT
WUPATKI, A PREHISTOBIC RUIN NEAB FLAGSTAFF.

enlarged by grinding with a conical
stone. When a hook was needed, the
Indian took a blank and cut away the
shell, making a hook. When Arthur
Woodward of the Los Angeles Museum
saw some ornaments, a pair of earrings
that we found in the Bidge Buin, he
pointed out to us that they were made
out of West Coast fish-hook blanks. It
is not in many parts of the world that
earrings are made out of fish hooks.

Glycimeris shells, which are bivalves,
were gathered on the beaches of the
Qulf of California and the centers cut
out before transportation. Woodward*
has found sites of this industry in Sonora,
where the circular discards cut from the
shell were left on shell heaps. In that
way the trader had less weight to carry
when he set out on his long tramp to the
Hohokam Villages in the Gila Basin.

Small conus shells had the spire ground
off and were used as tinklers. The pres-
ent-day Indians of the plateau make
similarly shaped tinklers of tin. Olivella
and nassarius were made into beads as
well as pelecypod fragments.

Most of the shells found about Flag-
staff, at Snaketown and Tusigoot were
derived from the Gulf of California.
Yet others came from the Pacific Coast.
It is evident, as Haury'® suggests, that

® Arthur Woodward, Am, Antiquity, 2: 2, 117,
October, 19S6.

10 E, W'. Haury, Medallion Papers No, 26,
1937.

the Hohokam area must have been the
commercial distribution center for much
of this trade in the Southwest.

Stone such as diorite for ax^, soap-
stone, red argillite, and turquoise for
ornaments and malachite, cinnabar, and
hematite for paint were widely traded,
but much exploration in rough difficult
country is needed before the exact sources
of all the materials are located.

In the excavation of a pit house in
Picture Canyon, 6 miles east of Flagstaff,
the author once unearthed a cache of six
unused three-quarter grooved axes of
diorite, which were buried in the debris
on the floor of an abandoned pit house,
probably by a trader who never returned
to recover them. This diorite must have
come from Southern Arizona and possi-
bly even from Sonora, where Wood-
ward'^ reported green diorite implements
in abundance in the Altar district.

At Bidge Buin were found some small
soapstone (steatite) ornaments. Steatite
is not found in the plateau but is found
in the mountains of the Gila Biver Val-
ley, as reported by Haury.'*

One sometimes finds large buttons of
lignite in the excavations. We would
look for the source of this material in
the various Mesozoic coal measures which
cover certain areas of the plateau from
Kayenta and Oraibi to Gallup or near
Santa Fe. When found at Flagstaff, it
is certainly an object of trade whatever
the exact source may be.

At Tuzigoot, Bidge Buin and at other
sites small ornaments such as nose plugs,
lip plugs and the small images of ani-
mals and birds have been found made of
red argillite.

Two years ago we located a prehistoric
quarry of red argillite in the Mazatzd
Quartzite, a Pre-Cambrian rock, near Del
Bio in Yavapai County, Arizona. The
ornaments from the sites and the mate-
rial from the quarry have been analyzed
by the spectroscope by David B. Howell'*

Arthur Woodward, op. oil., p. 120, 19M.

w B. W. Haury, op. oil., p. 129, 120, 1937.

It David How^, Ms.

PREHISTORIC TRADE IN THE SOUTHWEST

315

and have been found to be identical.
Near the quarry lies a medium-sized
pueblo, among the ruins of which are
found thousands of fragments of argil-
• lite. This material was probably traded
into the Verde and from there over the
Southwest.

Copper bells made by the cire perdu
(lost wax) method have been found in
excavating in New Mexico and Arizona.
As was pointed out by Gladwin, the
casting of these bells in copper by the
cire perdu method by primitive people
involves a high degree of technical
knowledge and skill. Forty of these bells
have been chemically analyzed by spec-
troscopic methods by William C. Root,
of Bowdoin College, Maine. He reported
that the copper bells from the Southwest
were not made of copper from the
plateau of Mexico or from Lake Superior
Region, and Haury suggests that they
were either made in the Hohokam area
of southern Arizona or in northern
Mexico.^* Four of the ten bells found in
the Flagstaff area have been analyzed
by Dr. Root. He found the composition
similar to 40 other bells from Arizona
and New Mexico. As they could not
have been made in the Flagstaff area
they represtot trade from southern Ari-
zona up the Verde trail.

Animal remains in the ruins are quite
common and are important to record
with great accuracy not only because
they give clues to the environment of the
people but also because they show trade
relations. Parrot remains were not re-
ported from Snaketown, but a number
have been found at Wupatki near Flag-
staff, at Tuzigoot, and Pepper (1920, p.
194) found 14 in a room ih Pueblo
Bonito. These parrots from the Flag-
staff area have been identified by Dr.
Alexander Wetmore as Ara mUiiuris
mexicana, Mexican green macaw, and
Ara macao, the red, blue and yellow
macaw. The habiMt of the green macaw

U W. 0. Root, Meealliou Papers, No. 25, 1237,
p. 276.

lies in tropical Mexico and now extends
north as far as the Yaqui River in Sonora.
The habitat of the red, blue and yel-
low macaw lies in South America, bu^
its range now extends along the east
coast of Mexico as far north as Tampico.
Fewkes^” described a desiccated macaw
from a burial at Wupatki near Flag-
staff, with the feathers still on it, and
the Museum of Northern Arizona dis-
covered the remains of several other
macaws that had been carefully interred.
It seems evident that the birds were
valuable and were traded up to northern
Arizona from Mexico alive. Even if the
ranges of these birds extended farther
north 700 years ago than now, this trade
represents fairly rapid transportation
over a very long route.

From the excavation of the Ridge
Ruin were recovered a number of ob-
jects, mostly turquoise mosaics mounted
on some sort of a plastic. Among the
objects was a wooden wand with a plastic
head inlaid with turquoise mosaic. A
glycimeris shell bracelet had a sheet of
plastic attached by a lug protruding
through a hole in the shell and on this
sheet a turquoise mosaic was set. This
same plastic was found in balls on cer-
tain sticks and in granular form. This

MACAW SKULL

SKUI^ OF THS BZD, BLUB AND YELLOW MACAW,
AEA MACAO, A PAEEOY FOUND IN THB TEOPICAL
PART OF THE BAST COAST OF MEXICO. TUB SKULL
WAS FOUND AT WUPATKI, NEAR FLAOSTAFF.

J. W. Fewkes, *'Two Stimmers* Work In
Poeblo Ruins. ’ ’ BAR 22nd An. Rept. 1904, Pt.
1, p* 50.

316

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

material was sent to Dr. Volney Jones,
of the University of Michigan, for identi-
fication, who reported it as lac, the secre-
tion of certain scale insects that inhabit
the creosote bush (Larrea) and some
other desert plants. At present the lac
insect is quite scarce in southern Arisona
but is found in some abundance on the
creosote bushes in western Arizona near
Kingman. Lac is an alcohol soluble
resin identical to shellac from India,
which is the basis of our shellac and seal-
ing wax.

Lac was probably prepared by scrap-
ing insects off the branches of creosote
bushes. We found in the ruin a quantity
nf the untreated lac secretions just as
they were scraped off the bush. This
crude lac was probably melted and
stirred with sticks, for we found sticks
with balls of lac in the excavation. It
was then molded into thin sheets of dif-
ferent shapes which were decorated by
imbedding turquoise or other fragments
in the surface. When hot the lac can
be molded in any form and is a con-
venient plastic for the manufacturing
of many small objects, on which tur-
quoise fragments can be imbedded. The
Indians of the Colorado basin at the
present time use lac for many purposes,
to waterproof their baskets, patch cracks
in their water jars, and for balls used in
games. Now that lac has been recognized
from a prehistoric site it will probably
be discovered in other collections of
material from the Southwest.

The presence of lac in soiqe abundance
in a burial at the Ridge Ruin, a site
near Flagstaff, indicates trade probably
from the Colorado Valley. Although lac
is found in the Qila-Salt area and in
the Grand Canyon, it is less abundant
than in the area around Kingman, Ari-
zona, and so harder to collect.

My own interest* in prehistoric trade
lies in the field of pottery, because pot-
tery remains are so well preserved in
prehistoric sites and are so abundant
that the volume of trade can be indi-
cated. Copper bells, parrot remains,

argillite and turquoise ornaments are
rather rare, so rare that their contribu-
tion to commerce was rather small unless
the ornaments represent a medium of
exchange. However, the volume of pot-
tery traded was enormous.

To distinguish traded pottery from the
indigenous pottery requires a study of
the ^ttery of the whole Southwest.
This means that we must have accurate
descriptions of types, covering methods of
manufacture, structure of the core, kind
of temper, surface treatment and styles
of decoration. As almost four hundred
pottery types are recognized in the
Southwest, no one can carry the details
of all these in his head, therefore, whether
we like it or not, some method of classi-
fication is necessary. Then again some
archeologists have been very careless in
the identification of the types that they
have described, renaming types that have
already been named, or describing types
so loosely that comparisons are impossi-
ble, so many types bear several names.
A number of types have as many as five
names. So my efforts first have been to
recognize synonyms, second to classify
the types into larger groups called wares,
and third to determine the region in
which each type was manufactured. I
have begun, so to speak, at home in the
San Francisco Mountains and have
slowly spread out into other areas. I
feel I have only made a beginning, but
other workers in the Southwest have
cooperated, so in a few years our founda-
tion will be much more secure than it is
at present.

I wish to particularly urge archeolo-
gists not only to have their types care-
fully identified, but to save large samples
of each type from a site so that they can
be re-examined a few years later as new
technical methods are made available.
It is the custom of archeologists, after
a study has been completed, to scrap all
sherds, so it is forever impossible to
determine the source of trade pottery
by future methods of analysis.

For the determination of the home

PREHISTORIC TRADE IN THE SOUTHWEST

317

town of a piece of pottery we have to
examine a broken surface. Museums
will not let us break pieces out of their
treasured whole vessels, so we must
study sherds. The best determiner of an
indigenous type — ^by that we mean pot-
tery made on or near a site — ^is the util-
ity vessel, a storage or cook pot. These
are usually large and hard to transport,
so the fragments are apt to be found
close to the place of manufacture, and,
if transported as they sometimes were,
their fragments form but a small propor-
tion of the sherds in the new area.

Most prehistoric Indians made, besides
their large storage and cooking pots,
small bowls and jars in which food was
served. On these the potter gave loving
care and they show the finest results of
the arts and crafts of a people, but these
small bowls were so widely traded that
it is difScult sometimes to locate their
home tribe. As these vessels were used
in serving food, we will call them ** service
types.

It is most important to determine the
place of origin of attractive “service
types” which were small in size and
widely traded, and it is not always an
easy thing to do this. A criterion often
used by lircheologists is local abundance,
but this is not a safe guide, particularly
if the vessels were found in burials be-
cause valuable exotic objects were
selected for burial offerings. A type
called Jeddito Black-on-yellow is a ser-
vice type made from 1300 to 1500 a.d. of
Hopi clay in the Hopi country. The
clay is similar to the clay used in the
manufacture of storage and cooking ves-
sels from the Hopi country, except that
little or no sand was used for the temper.
Jeddito Black-on-yellow was so abundant
in burials in certain sites in the Verde
Valley and Tonto Basin that some
archeologists have considered a Hopi mi-
gration into those areas in the 1300 ’s.
However, as the corresponding cooking
and storage vessels were not found with
them I suspect trade, particularly as

chemists have shown that the clay in those
vessels was not local but was similar to
Hopi clay.

Between 700 to 1300 a.d. the women
of the Kayenta Branch in northern Ari-
zona made small bowls of black-on-white
pottery and corrugated cook pots. Frag-
ments of their black-on-white bowls are
found in almost every excavated site in
the Salt River Valley and whole pieces in
some. As the style of design changed
over a period of years and these designs
have been dated by the tree ring method
thus have the Salt River Valley Ruins
been dated. Excavations at Chaco
Canyon, New Mexico, have uncovered
Kayenta pottery. It has been found
as far west as the Mojave Desert. All
this points to widespread traffic.

In the San Francisco Mountain black
sand area the people made brown stor-
age jars of basalt residual clay with
crushed volcanic tuff temper, also small
bowls of red with a black burnished
interior with basalt sand, temper, and
red bowls with a black painted design or
a polychrome pottery, using volcanic
tuff temper. Like the Klayenta pottery
these latter attractively painted bowls
were widely traded to the major con-
temporary branches. But the red bowls
with a burnished interior called Sunset
Red were not so popular, and fragments
are rarely found far outside the black
^d area.

The red on buff pottery of southern
Arizona was little traded to the North,
only a fraction of the amount of sherds
being found compared out of its environ-
ment compared to the amount of norths
ern sherds found in southern sites. Since
there was little reciprocal trade in pot-
tery it means that t6 balance the northern
pottery traveling south objects other
than pottery were carried north, which
was, perhaps, shell and textiles.

I think we can saMy say that every
Indian tribe in the Southwest that made
pottery made a “utility type” for cook-
ing and storage- imd one or more “ser-

318

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

vice types” for serving food. Although
the finishing of these two types was
often quite different yet they were alike
in certain basic techniques of manufac-
ture. Their clays were usually from
the same general source^ the temper was
usually the same except for size, they
were fired in the same kind of atmos-
phere, oxidizing or reducing and con-
structed by the same methods, coils ob-
literated by the use of paddle and anvil
or coils obliterated by scraping with a
piece of sherd or gourd. To settle these
finer points the archeologist has often
to call in the ceramic technologist, the
geologist and the chemist.

Although individuals on foot may
traverse Arizona and New Mexico from
one point to another from in almost any
direction, yet the bulk of the movement
would follow certain lines of geograph-
ical least resistance. Knowing the cen-
ters of population, topography of the
country, the source of trade objects,
position of water holes and historic In-
dian trails, we can approximate the prin-
cipal routes of commerce over the South-
west. Men will go around a rough moun-
tain range, all things being equal; but
in a desert region will cross the moun-
tains if they provide water on the way.
Across the Mojave desert the Indian
trails went from a water hole in one
mountain range to a water hole in an-
other mountain range. If you know
where to look, water can be found in
the mountains every twelve miles or so
on his route across the Mojave desert.'*
As the present highway and the railroad
avoid the mountains their routes were im-
possible in prehistoric times.

River valleys with living streams form
natural avenues of trade. They supplied
water, stopping places in villages and
an easy way if the way led in the right
direction, so important trade routes
must have followed the Gila, Salt, Verde,
Santa Cruz, Little Colorado, Puerco and

Whipple, Water Holes in Mohavi Bes-
ort.*» 1S58. BAB 26th An. Bept. 190S, p. 92.

Moenkopi Valli^ in Arizona and the
Bio Grande, Puerco and San Juan in
New Mexico.

(1) Three main routes can be traced
from the Pacific Coast, (a) From the
region of San Diego up the Gila through
the country of the Hohokam to the Rio
Grande, as shown by Brand and
Haury>'*'* (b) Prom the region of Los
Angeles to the Colorado near Needles
and on to the plateau following the Little
Colorado tributaries and the San Juan
into New Mexico, (c) Another route
from the Los Angeles area passed north
of Boulder Dam to the Virgin Valley
sites and other Utah points.

(2) One or more routes led from the
Gulf of California to the country of the
Hohokam.

(3) From the Hohokam to the Plateau
two main routes are indicated, (a) Up
the Verde to the Sinagua and Elayenta,
and (b) up the Salt to the White Moun-
tains and Cibola Branch. Minor routes
led into the most remote areas.

(4) Brand'* shows three main routes
from the Gulf of Mexico into New Mex-
ico, following the rivers Bio Grande,
Canadian and Brazos.

So far I have been talking about pre-
historic trade during the eleventh to
fourteenth century. You may ask,
”What of earlier trade!” Gumsey*®
found in the Basket Maker II caves of
northern Arizona whose date might be
placed 300-500 a.d., only Pacific coast
marine shells, abalone and olivella. In
general, shells are relatively rare in the
early periods. In Basket M^er IH
(500-700 A.D.) shells are scarce, but as
both glycimeris and abalone a^ reported
we have indications of trade from the
Gulf of California as well as the Pacific
Coast. In Pueblo I (700-900) in the

Brand, op, cit., p. 7.

Haiiry, op, cU,

Brand, op, oit,, p« 9.

so Guernsey, ^^Explorations in Nortiiesstem
Arizona.” Papers of Peabody Museum, Har-
vard University, Vol. Xll, No. 1, p, 6S, 117.

PREHISTORIC TRADE IN THE SOUTHWEST

319

San Jiian area shell shows trade from
both sources. From 800 to 1000 a.d. in
the Flagstaff area, shells are scarce, but
three species are found that live in the
Gulf of California, but none have been
reported upon from the Pacific Coast.

In the excavations in southern Ari-
zona in the Grew Site and at Snaketown,
pottery is found that was made before
700 A.D. north of the Little Colorado.
Plateau types made before 1100 a.d. are
found in the desert mountains of north-
west Arizona.

In general, we may say that some
trade took place in the earliest periods
that have been reported upon in Ari-
zona, but that from 1000 a.d. on trade
was in a much greater volume than in
the earlier periods.

As to mediums of exchange, we have
little to say. It is conceivable that the
prehistoric people made attractive pot-
tery’’, especially for exchange, just as the
Hopi do to-day. Indeed, the modern
Indians use jewelry when they have no
cash, but there is no evidence that the
Indians of Arizona either in ancient or
modern times used shell as the Indians
of the Bast used “wampum’* as a me-
dium of exchange with a fixed value. In
the Southwest bead necklaces are valued
somewhat on the number of beads, but
other factors enter into the transaction
such as quality and artistic arrange-
ment.

Modem Indian^ have rates of ex-
change for goods which fluctuate within
narrow limits. Among the Pima, Bus-
selP^ states a gourd equals a basket in
trade; a shell necklace, a metate; a
basket, a blanket; and a string of blue
glass beads, a horse; a string of blue
glass four yards long, a bag of paint.

Spier** reports, among the Havasupai

SI Frank Bussell, ^'The Pima Indians.”

ss Leslie Bpier, op. oit., p. 246.

in the period 1840-65, a tray of shdled
com equals a Navajo saddle blanket ; the
biggest burden basket of shelled com, a
horse ; big blanket, a gun ; ten buckskins,
a race horse. I do not suppose it was
more difficult to remember the trade
value of their few objects than for us to
know the value of our goods in dollars
and cents.

You may wonder how far various ob-
jects have traveled in prehistoric trade.
From the reports of archeological digs
we find that pottery travels rarely more
than 200 miles, yet other objects can be
proved to have traveled much longer
distances. Kidder*® found Gulf of Mex-
ico marine shells at Pecos that must
have traveled a distance whose bee line
is over 700 miles. He found shells from
the Pacific Coast that had traveled al-
most as far. Some of the parrots, red-
blue-yellow macaw, found at Wupatki,
must have been carried 1,200 miles, but
the longest distance recorded is a vessel
found by Pepper*^ at Pueblo Bonito in
Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, which
might have come from the valley of
Mexico 1,300 miles away.

The study of aboriginal trade has just
begun. The centers of the manufacture
of a few objects have been proved above
any reasonable doubt. Although we see
dimly some of the broad aspects of abo-
riginal trade we need the aid of the
specialist to help us settle the source of
manufacture of many objects. We have
made a beginning, but thanks to the
gracious cooperation among scientific
men, the possibility of further contribu-
tion to this study of prehistoric com-
merce appears to have no limit to its
horizon.

*»A. V. Kidder, ”Artifaets of Pecos,” p.
188, ]93e.

H. Pepper, Anthrop, Papers, Am. Mas.
Nat. Hist., Vol. 27, 1920, p. 208.

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

By Dr. DONALD H. MBNZBL

HARVARD COLLROR OBSERVATORY

There are many reasons why study of
the sun is one of the most important
fields in science. The sun is the nearest
star, the only one we can examine in
detail. It thus provides a test and check
on theories of stellar astrophysics in gen-
eral. As the center of the solar system,
the sun fuimishes light, heat and energy
to the earth, as well as to the other plan-
ets, It is an important factor in con-
trolling the weather. It is the source of
the electrification of the ionosphere.
Magnetic storms, radio fade-outs and
aurorae are clearly connected in some
hidden way with sun-spots or, more pre-
cisely, with solar variation.

The sun is important for the physicist
and physical chemist, as well as for the
astronomer. Through the medium of
spectroscopic analysis, they gain infor-
mation about atoms and molecules of the
solar atmosphere and learn about the
behavior of the elements under condi-
tions of excitation that can not be repro-
duced in the terrestrial laboratory.
Thus they may extend the existing ex-
perimental data and check calculations
on the behavior and break-down of atoms
and molecules. Study of the solar spec-
trum may well provide new methods for
improving the accuracy of spectrochemi-
cal. analysis.

It is easy to see why numerous obser-
vatories have devoted considerable atten-
tion to the securing of observations of
solar phenomena. The details of the sur-
face layers are of interest in themselves :
sun-spots, granulation, faculae, fiocculi,
chromosphere, prominences and corona.
In the United States, observational pro-
grams are being carried out chiefly at
Mt. Wilson Observatory, at the McMath-
Hulbert Observatory of the University

of Michigan, and at the newly estab-
lished-Fremont Pass Station of Harvard
Observatory, Climax, Colorado. Certain
special phases of solar work are being
pursued elsewhere, e.g,, at the Smith-
sonian Institution, the McDonald Obser-
vatory, and the ,Yerkes Observatory.
The theoretical and interpretive work
has been pursued mainly at Mt. Wilson
and Harvard.

The Problem op Interpretation

Despite the large amount of observa-
tional data that has accumulated at
various institutions all over the world,
progress in the interpretation of solar
phenomena has been slow. Our failure
to advance has, undoubtedly, been
largely due to the inherent complexity
of solar phenomena. The nature of the
problems is apparent, however, even
though their solution seems remote. Can
we, at the present point, by taking stock
of the existing data and experimental
equipment, devise new procedures that
will speed the progress of solar science f
Are we making full use of the knowledge
and techniques of physics and industry!

One of the first points that meets llie
eye in a preliminary general survey is
that theoretical discussion has somehow
lagged far behind observation. Experi-
ence with other sciences shows clearly
that progress is most rapid when theory
and observation keep nearly in step,
neither outdistancing the other at any
time. . At least part of the difficulty in
the solar problem is that interpretation
and theory are often purely physical
matters. And few astronomers, unfor-
tunately, are also theoretical physicists,
with appropriate knowledge of atomic
spectra, statistical mechanics, wave me-

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

321

cbanicB; hydrodynamics, radiation and
electromap:netie theory.

Clearly, all the above fields are sig-
nificant in the interpretation of solar
observations. Likewise, the i)hysicist,
who might be capable of contributing, is
unfamiliar with both the problems and
the observational data. The few theo-
retical advances that have been made are
chiefiy of a mathematical nature and, as
such, often fail to conform either to
physics or to the facts of observation.
The resulting theories, in consequence,
lack plausibility.

Let us examine a few of the outstand-
ing problems of solar astrophysics, and
try to see what new observational data
are needed, how they may possibly be
secured, and where new techniques or
theory may be applied. This outline
represents a bare beginning of inquiry
into solar problems and omits many im-
portant phases, including that of the
solar interior.

Sun-Spots Are Vortices

First, consider the question of sun-
spots. The direct conclusion from the

observational data is that sun-spots are
storm areas of a cyclonic nature in the
solar atmosphere. They are regions of
low pressure, and their darkness is evi-
dently caused by the cooling of the gases
expanding into the affected area. The
spectra of spots exhibit less excitation
than do those of the normal solar sur-
face, in the form of more intense low-
temperature lines of neutral metals.
Molecular bands, also, are present, show-
ing that the temperature is low enough
to permit the formation of elementary
chemical compounds. The atomic lines
are split and display polarization phe-
nomena characteristic of an intense
magnetic field.

It is believed that sun-spots are vor-
tices. In fact, the mere presence of a
strong magnetic field is an almost un-
refutable argument for the existence of
at least an electric vortex or solenoid.
But very little is known of the rate of
the vortex rotation or of the law that the
velocities follow, outward from the vor-
tex center. There seems to be a chance
to determine this velocity from observa-
tion alone. Most spectroheliograms are

THE FLASH 8PEOTBUH

A ssonoR rsoM o^x or thb flash sraprsA OBTAiNzt) by tbs barvabd-icassaohusstts insti-

T!7TS or TSCHKOLdoY XOLIFSB ZXFSDITION TQ 8I8BSIA, JVKB 19, 1980. THB OOMFLBTB OIBCLB
HBAB THB BIOHT OF THB PIOTOBB ZB TRB CORONAL BINO, BBOOBBBO IN THB OBBBN XilKX 01* **OOBO-
mUIC.” ITS OBIOIN IS STILL UNKNOWN. NOTB IHB CORONAL FROXINSNCBS.^* THB BktORT

UNBB AT THB CBNTBB ARB THOBB or HAONBSktrll.

322

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

YerkM Okuervatory,
80LAB GBANULATION

TBE SOLAR DISK, AS SHOWN XN THIS PBOTO-
ORAPH, IS PAR FROM UNIFORM. THE BRIGHTER
AREAS CONSIST OF MYRIADS OF TINT GRANULES,
IN A STATE OP RAPID ACTIVITY.

indecisive on this point, either showing
no rotation at all or indicating a direc-
tion of spin quite different from that
required by the magnetic field. A few
spectroheliograms that have been made
public exhibit the phenomenon of a
prominence’s apparently being sucked
into a vortex. The filaments become
more and more curved as they approach
the center, which suggests conservation
of angular momentum. Measurements
of the curvature and the drift of the
filaments should give important data
concerning the nature of the vortex; at
least they will yield information about
the effect of the vortex at* high chroflib-
spheric altitudes. Studies, with motion-
picture cameras, of the spots themselveB,
particularly of the penumbral fila-
ments, should give additimal informa-
tion about sun-spot circulation.

Spots as Gukt Eixotbomaonbis;

A MUiUON MUiLtON Aw wnww

Upon the observational data of this
vortex rotation depends the future de-
velopment of the theories of sun-spot
magnetism. The gases that comprise the

solar atmosphere are highly ionised,
broken up by the action of radiation
and high temperature into electrons and
ions. It was once thought that mere
rotation of the ionised gas would set up
a powerful field. But further examina-
tion proves that a rotating mass of gas,
however highly ionised, will not give a
magnetic field if it contains an equal
percentage of ions and electrons. For
the positive pole produced by rotating
charges of one sign is just cancelled by
the negative pole formed by the whirling
charges of opposite sign. Nor can there
be a sufficient excess of protons or elec-
trons to give the field, because a sun-spot
so highly charged would break up in-
stantaneously and explosively in the
powerful electric field.

It appears that the magnetic field re-
sults from a galvanic current produced
by actual slipping of charges of one sign
with respect to those of the other. The
real question is how the enormous cur-
rents, which must be of the older of a
million million amperes, are set up and
maintained. They are probably auto-
matically produced inside any vortex of
ionized gas. The exact details of the
process are still obscure, but there is
hope of solving the problem if only such
significant data as the law of vortex rota-
tion can be determined observationidly.

The fields probably arise from differ-
ences in relative freedom to move of
charges of opposite sign. The free ne^-
tive electrons, extremely light, ai% easily
deflected by collisions with oAer atoms.
Further, they react very rapidly to the
existence of even a small magnetic field,
moving in small circles, whereas the posi-
tive ions move in large ones. A prelimi-
nary mialysis by Dr. T. B. Sterne and
myself is promising in tiiis connection;
it shows tiiat we may well expect the
electrons to drift relative to the ions.
Further analysis, however, is held up by
lack of observational data on spot mo-
tions aa well as by a dearth of Imowledge
of eleetron-at<nn eoUisiona The latter

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

323

information must come from physical
studies of the properties of matter.

What ib the Shape op a
Sun-Spot f

Associated with the vortical motion of
sun-spots is the ‘‘pumping’’ action,
which draws material up from the heated
interior, cools it by expansion, and' then
allows it to descend. The maintenance
of this circulation over long periods of
time presents a major problem of sun-
spot activity. Prom theoretical investi-
gati^s of the circulational features in-
volve, we should be able to decide
whether a sun-spot is long compared with
its cross-section, like a terrestrial tor-
nado, or whether it is flat, like a whirl-
pool in a shallow basin. Both concepts
have been urged by some astronomers,
but the vortex character lends favor to
the former view. What, also, is the sise
of the true vortex, as distinguished from
the rotating mass of gas surrounding the
spot center, but which is not a true vor-
tex in the strictest meaning of the
wordT These problems are all allied
with the important question of the dis-
tribution of temperature and pressure in
the vortex. These quantities are not
directly observable, but they should be
calculable if the true nature of spot
structure can be ascertained. Quanti-
tative measures of the intensities of spec-
tral lines in spots should be of assistance
to the astronomer in determining the
physical conditions within the spot.

Sun-Spot Twins

Next there is the problem of associated
sun-spots, pairs and groups being far
more common than single ones. Since a
vortex must, on simple hydrodynamioal
theory, possess two ends, each l3dng in a
surface of the medium (or extending to
infinity), the well-known **bi-polar”
character of doubled spots seems signifi-
cant. The opposite ends of a single vor-
tex must be right- and left-handed, and
the fact that one spot of a pair invari-

ably possesses a pole of sign opposite to
that of the other, is strong evidence in
favor of the vortex relationship. Bven
when the second spot is not visible, or
perhaps merely indicated by a faouiar
disturbance, it may make itself known
through the presence of its magnetic
field, which splits the lines of the spec-
trum. We should like to know more
about these invisible spots.

The Sun Rotates Fabtbb at
the Equator

The so-called “equatorial accelera-
tion” of the sun is exhibited by the
simple fact that sun-spots near the equa-
tor complete a circuit in shorter periods
than those nearer the poles. The prob-
lem of the maintenance of the drift in
the presence of opposing drag of neigh-
boring layers must be studied. It is
important to note that mere transport of
material from one solar latitude to an-
other should produce quite the opposite
effect, as in the terrestrial trade winds.
Thus the source of the acceleration is
probably very deep-seated, perhaps in a
core that rotates much more rapidly than
the solar external layers.

Jft OhsenHUoru.

PHOTOaBAPH OF SUN

trSAB SUH-SrCT HAXllCUM; AUCUST 12 , 1217 ,
HOTS, IK AmnnoK to thb sror, thb bsioxt
rAouiiAt WBXon asb most ooKsnoucus kbae

TBl SUK’S BAST AKD WBST LIMBS.

824

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Mt. W<ii(0» Ob»ervatorp.

THE ZEEMAN EFFECT

(

THE SPUTTtNO OP BPECTBAL UNBS OMDEB THE
INFLUENCE OF A MAGNETIC FIELD IS CLBAELT
SBOIVN IN THE LEFT-HAND PHOTOOBAPH. THE
ANALOGOUS 8PLITTIN0 IN THE SPBCTBUM OF THE
BUN-BPOT IS SHOWN IN THE RIOHT-RAND BECOBD.

Whether we can discover the origin or
not of the eastward equatorial current,
its mere existence presents numerous un-
solved problems connected with sun-
spots themselves. A sun-spot pair, with
the members in slightly different lati-
tudes, is subjected to an enormous shear-
ing force. The surprising feature is that
it does not tend to disrupt spots more
seriously. Even a single spot is subject
to this peculiar force. In only a day or
so a circular ^t located in the regions
of greatest shear would be markedly dis-
torted into the form of an ellipse, if the
sun-spot forces did not oppose the effect
caused by relative drift of gases in neigh-
boring latitudes. No evidence of such a
distortion now exists, but careful obser-
vations might disclose an ’effect. Sutih
data are important, as indeed are the
relative motions of spot members, for
they will give information about ^e
fundamental character of the vortie'es.
Theoretically, the filaments of neighbor-
ing vortices should interact to produce
relative motions.

, The Sun's DouBta Vobtbx

Finally, there is the question of all the
spot groups taken together. Why do
spots appear only in the zones between

the 40-degree latitude parallels of the
solar surface and never in the polar
regions! Thus enters the very complex
problem of solar variation, as exhibited
by sun-spot phenomena. Not only do
the numbers show the well-known rise
and decline with the eleven-year cycle;
there is also the equator-ward drift of
the imn-spot zones, as the cycle pro-
gresses. We see in this behavior and in
the longevity of various spot groups evi-
dence for powerful vortical currents that
persist for long periods of time. A full
appreciation of the nature of this deep-
seated circulation is important if prog-
ress is to be made in the problem of
sun-spots and solar variability. The
opposite magnetic polarities of the pre-
ceding and following spots in the north-
ern and southern hemispheres and their
reversal at the next cycle shows that the
time period is one of 23 years.

The large-scale motion of spots is sug-
gestive indeed that we are dealing with
a vortex within a vortex, i.e., a double
set of coupled vortices. One governs
the formation of individual spots, and
the second the cyclic periodicity of spots
as a whole. Bjerknes has given an ele-
mentary hydrodynamic theory, which is
capable of being further developed. It
is tempting indeed to suggest that the
general magnetic field of the sun is asso-
ciated with the second type of vortex in
the same way that the fields of individual
spots are produced by vortices of the
first variety. Further studies of this
general magnetic field are urgently
needed.

Needed Obsbbvationb

It is apparent that the present pro-
gram of sun-spot observations is suffi-
cient in certain respects. Through
cooperative effort of many observatories
in various parts of the world, a regular
record is kept of the spottiness of the sun
and of the growth and development of
groups. Thus the more general features
of the problem of q>6t variations are wdl

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

325

covered. But the foregoing discussion
clearly shows the need of more detailed
analysis of individual spots and their
fluctuations from minute to minute and
hour to hour.

The old-fashioned visual solar observ-
ers, like Young, Secchi, Langley and
Loekyer, have unfortunately almost com-
pletely disappeared. They recorded the
interesting and peculiar behaviors of in-
dividual spots. Visual observers, how-
ever, are always at some disadvantage.
The changes in spots, though significant
in the course of hours, are so slow that
the eye may fail to perceive important
variations or may misinterpret the
others. And, unless the astronomer is
also a skilled artist, which is rarely the
case, the mere written records fail to do
justice to the observations.

Even the ordinary series of photo-
graphs often presents difficulties of in-
terpretation. What one really needs is
motion-picture recording, with the indi-
vidual frames well spaced so that the
motions are effectively speeded up by a
factor, say, of 500 times in projection.
The enormoiis success of Dr. R. R. Mc-
Math at the McMath-Hulbert Observa-
tory, of the University of Michigan, in
the use of ‘motion-picture technique for
spectroheliograms of the solar disk and
prominences, shows the power of this
mode of recording results. The graphic
portrayal of the circulatory and eruptive
features of the sun ’s atmosphere focuses
immediate attention upon the truly sig-
nificant features of the problem. And
what Dr. McMath has achieved for the
spectroheliograph could be even more
easily adapted to direct photography of
all kinds. Records of this character
should assist astronomers to answer
many of the questions raised in the fore*
going diseussion.

The recent development of new types
of filters, made pf quartz plates and
Polaroid sheets, greatly increases the
possibilities for direct photography.
This device is essentially a monochro-

matic filter and, if fully develqpied,
would yield results comparable to those
now obtained with the spectroheliograph.
Evans, at Chabot Observatory, has ob-
tained significant preliminary results
with such filters. A combination of one
of these filters with interferometers
would give on a single photograph a
three-dimensional picture of the motions,
not only of the apparent drift but also
of the speed toward or away from the
observer.

The Surface is Granulated

The problems of sun-spots represent
only a few of those in solar physics. The
relatively clear areas between the spots
are not without interest. Under high
magnification, the sun’s surface is seen
to be flecked with myriads of tiny gran-
ules, only a few hundred miles in diam-
eter. This granulation is subject to
rapid fluctuations, indicative of the tur-
bulent condition of the solar atmosphere.
The appearance is not unlike that pre-
sented in an airplane view of a stormy
sea on which the white-capped waves are
dancing up and down. The entire pic-
ture may change in the course of a very
few minutes. Indeed, very little else is
known of the phenomenon, but cinemato-
graph records appropriately taken with
films of high contrast should disclose the
character of the granulations and reveal
the relationship that exists between them
and the much larger spots. Observa-
tions over a sun-spot cycle, to find out
the change of granulation with solar
activity, would be particularly interest-
ing.

Near the solar limb are often observed
bright streaks or patches known as f acu-
lae. Although they are most commonly
associated with sun-spots, faculae fre-
quently appear in regions where no
definite spots are visible. They may
change their form in a space of several
hours, yet some regions showing pro-
nounced facular patches may persist for
months. Thus, regarded as a form of

326

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

solar activity, faculae are much lonf?er
lived than spots. That the two phe-
nomena are closely related, however, is
shown by the fact that the disappearance
of a spot is customarily followed by the
appearance of faculae.

The Mysterious ‘‘Mountains”

OF THE Sun

No satisfactory explanation of faculae
has ever been given. Some observers
have regarded them as a sort of cloud
phenomenon, perhaps even a condensa-
tion, but this is unlikely. Their in-
creased visibility at the limb, where the
observer looks through a greater thick-
ness of atmosphere, indicates that they
are higher than the general level of the
photosphere, or normal radiating sur-
face. Clearly, more data are needed for
their interpretation, but the indications
are that they are a bulge in the sun’s sur-
face, in effect a “solar mountain.” The
phenomenon may be more technically
described as a region where the atmos-
pheric density is greater than that of the
surrounding regions. What force can

cause these semi-permanent elevations of
the surface is not immediately obvious.
It is possible, however, that sub-surface
vortex tubes, struggling to preserve their
identity under the pressure of overlying
gas, might produce the effect. Here
again, cinematograph records should
helpuus to unravel the relationship.

The Turbulence op the Upper
Solar Atmosphere

For the analysis of disk phenomena
other than spots, granulation and facu-
lae, the spectroheliograph, especially in
the form employed at the McMatli-Hul-
bert Observatory, stands unequalled.
The surface details revealed by observa-
tions taken in the monochromatic light
of some spectral line refer in general to
higher atmospheric levels than those
taken by the ordinary photographic
process. The motion-picture records
thus far obtained show a turbulence of
the solar gases that can be appreciated
in no other fashion. An ordinary series
of exposures, taken say at fifteen-minute
intervals through the day, show changes

BmUhtoiiian

LANGLEY ’S DBAWINQS OF A SXTN-BPOT GBOUP (1878)

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

327

Mi. WilMon Oh§ervatory.

OOMPA BISON OP DIRECT PHOTOGRAPH AND 8PECTROHELIOGRAM

IN THE LIGHT OF CALCIUM. NOTE THAT THE CALC1T7M FLOCCULI TEND TO FOLLOW THE GENERAL

PATTERN OF THE FACULAE RECORDED IN THE DIRECT PHOTOGRAPH.

clearly, but the character of the transi-
tion stapres is completely lost.

The clouds of hydropren atoms, when
the selected monochromatic line corre-
sponds to light emitted by tliat element,
are seen to be in rapid turbulent motion,
like waves on a choppy sea. The obser-
vations plainly refer to that layer of
atmosphere known as the chromosphere,
which is best seen at the time of total
solar eclipse. It thus appears as a
ragged edge made up of spikes and fila-
ments with a large prominence here and
there projecting from behind the occult-
ing lunar disk.

The prominences are also visible in
projection against the solar disk as
irregular absorbing patches sharply
delineated against the brighter back-
ground. These are the dark “flocculi^’
of the solar surface. Bright flocculi,
particularly prominent in spectrohelio-
grams taken in light of ionized calcium,
also exist. The ^un-spots, too, appear,
but their relatively more stately motions
are lost in the general hurly-burly of the
sun’s upper atmosphere. There is some

indication that the bright calcium floc-
culi respond to the vortex forces, with
a slow rotation around the spot area.
This reported phenomenon is worthy of
more detailed investigation. The faculae
and the granulations are completely in-
visible in ordinary spectroheliograms.
The former will reappear if the wave-
length region is shifted to a point out-
side the absorption line, but the resolu-
tion of the spectroheliograph is probably
iiisufficient to reveal much of the granu-
lation.

The Solar Spectrum

Of particular significance in any study
of the solar surface is the physical inter-
pretation of the spectra of various por-
tions of the sun. Analysis of the inten-
sities of the Fraunhofer lines, studies of
their displacements from normal posi-
tions as a result of convection currents
in the atmosphere, the nature of line
profiles over the disk, should continue
to be profitable fields of. investigation.
Spectrographs of large dispersion and
high resolving power, with interferome-

328

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

McMath-Hulhert Oh9ervatw^.

AN INTEBBSTING PBOMINBNCB

NOnOS THE IHTEIGATS CHAEAOTSR OF THE DETAIL. THE MOTIOM OF THE BTREAHEES AT THE LEFT

IS FBEDOMIHANTLY DOWNWARD.

ter accessories, should be employed. The cloud. Others show evidence of a large-

studies will eventually culminate in in-
creased knowledge of such important
factors as the chemical composition,
temperature, pressure and degree of
atomic dissociation in the solar atmos-
phere. They will also give valuable
physical data concerning the properties
and behavior of atoms and molecules.

^^Movibs^^ op Prominences

The motions of prominences are b<^f
depicted by observations of the solar
limb, with the solar image either occulted
by an opaque disk or reduced in intensity
by a dark circular filter. The spectro-
heliograph and the coronagraph stand
about equal in their abilities to record
these complex phenomena. The observa-,
tions show that no two prominences are
alike in behavior, although several dis-
tinct classes appear. Motion-picture
technique has revealed what years of
direct photography failed to disclose in
detail : the intricacies of the prominence
motions.

There is no such thing as an absolutely
static prominence. All exhibit activity,
some to greater degree than others.
Those of the quiescent type display a
variety of internal circulations, like the
convection currents in a fleecy cumulus

scale rotation, a sort of cyclonic effect,
with the predominant motions parallel
to the solar surface. Also, there are the
common eruptive prominences, where
great clouds of gas are blown violently
away from the sun, apparently never to
return. A fairly common variety con-
sists of an inverted cone of gas, detached
completely from the surface, except for
“ roots running into the photosphere.

The peculiar and unexpected result
of the ne^ cinematograph studies is that
the motion is predominantly downward.
Since there is little if any evidence that
material is being replenished in the main
conical body, how the prominence main-
tains itself is a serious problem. This
difficulty is even more graphically pre-
sented by still another variety of promi-
nence, which might be described as a sort
of reversed fountain. I say ^‘reversed''
because the matter is running backward
from the top of the stream. Often
numerous individual filaments exist,
running downward in long graceful
curves from a common point, each draw-
ing upon an invisible source for its main-
tenance. In one remarkable record made
at the McHath-Hulbert Observatory, the
main body of the prominence springs
suddenly into existence high above the

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

329

solar surface. The roots are formed as a
subsequent development.

There seem to be three possible an-
swers to the question of the origin of
prominence material. The substances
may be condensing from the corona
where conditions render it non-luminous.
They may rise invisibly from the photo-
sphere. Or perhaps there are streams
of material plying through the upper
solar atmosphere, which becomes lumi-
nous only when they enter a region of
high excitation, perhaps a restricted
beam of ultraviolet radiation. The often
expressed idea that the effect might be
merely an excitation wave analogous to
the terrestrial aurora is untenable; for
that the motion is of real particles is
proved by the magnitude of the observed
Doppler displacements.

None of these theories, or at least none
of them singly, is sufficient to account

...

.gm

+r t ■'

:r' s*.!’ '

vr./ '.v . /

'■ y '' ' ' ' ■

■

' 7

for all the observed effects. Purser,
one meets with serious difficulties in
explaining why and how ionized gas
should suddenly become luminous unl^
there is some action causing a rapid in-
crease in its density in the neighborhood
of the prominences. Intense force fields
of electromagnetic origin might cause
matter streaming in from all directions
to converge into a certain volume.
Charged particlss, moving along mag-
netic lines of force produced by a sun-
spot, might behave in this fashion, and
the afore-mentioned inverted cone is sug-
gestive that the effect may occur. Obser-
vations of motions along coronal stream-
ers would help to settle this important
question.

Clouds That Weigh Thirty
Million Tons

The chromosphere and prominences

' . v-'v.''.''': . 77-v.' ■ V rH

:i: 4-. > A A^'WIKS

Ai- ^

‘ ■ ■ 'i- /■

/' t'-m'

, .vv^. 7 -r V.' -,V'

■7;''

. ,|,.T • ' j?r r

; ■ :v; j-;; . j ^

' •■■■ .Ji’v,, ‘v

-■

Mt, y^^iUon Observatory,

TWENTY-POUR HOUR DBVBU)PMENT OP A BUN-SPOT GROUP

Nonoa TBAT THE SPOT IN TBS UPPXB LEFT BAS EEMAINBO PXAOTIOALLT UKOHANOED WHUiB TOE
OSSAT OaOtTP HAS GROWN ENORHOtrSLT. THE SHALL BLACK DOT AT THE BOTTOH REPRESENTS W

SISE or THE EARTH*

330

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

have many common features. In fact,
one might say that a prominence is
merely an overgrown chromospheric
spike. In both phenomena the outstand-
ing problems of interpretation are simi-
lar. How is the mass of a prominence
supported for so long a time against the
enormous pull of solar gravitation t The
motion in the streamers seems to be one
of almost uniform velocity, and shows
none of the expected acceleration in its
sun-ward fall. When accelerations do
occur along the path, they arise almost
instantaneously and the matter adjusts
itself to a new uniform velocity.

The suggestion has been made — and
the idea has met with wide acceptance —
that pressure of sunlight is responsible
for the effect. A quantitative calcula-
tion discloses, however, that if radiation
pressure is the agent, we shall have to
revise completely our conception of the
temperature of the solar surface — so
widely quoted at 6000®. For the mass
of even a small prominence may be con-
servatively estimated at 1,000,000 tons.
If solar gravity alone were acting, the
prominences would fall from an initial
height of 30,000 miles to the surface in
an interval of only ten minutes.

The Lifting Power op Sunuoht

To prevent the collapse of this great
tonnage, an enormous amount of radia-
tion is required, far more than the sun
could furnish if it were to radiate in all
wave-lengths as if its temperature were
6000®. Furthermore, since the radiation
must be absorbed if it is to have any
effect in support, and since hydrogen,
the most abimdant constituent of promi-
nences, can absorb radiation effectively
only in the spectral regions short of 1,000
Angstrom units or so, large quantities of
energy must be escaping from the sun in
the extreme ultra-violet. Our atmos-
phere, unfortunately for the astronomi-
cal observer, is completely opaque to
light of this wave-length, so that no
direct check can be obtained. But a

simple calculation shows that the ultra-
violet radiation temperature of the sun
must be at least 12,000®, if radiation
pressure is the source of support.

Fortunately, there is another observa-
tional fact that points toward exactly
the same conclusion. The spectra of the
chromosphere and prominences, obtained
at total solar eclipses, show very intense
spectral lines of hydrogen and helium.
These elements require a very high de-
gree of excitation before they will shine
at all, and theory is conclusive in speci-
fying that the amount of radiation we
receive could be produced only by a
source with a temperature from 12,000®
to 25,000®. The higher figure comes
from the calculation for helium.

As a matter of fact, there is a third
confirming observational datum of a
totally different character. The degree
of ionization in the electron layer high
in the earth’s atmosphere, the layer that
is responsible for the reflection of radio
waves around the earth, also demands a
high radiation temperature for the solar
ultra-violet.

We seem forced to conclude, therefore,
that abundant radiation is present, and
we may provisionally accept the ultra-
violet excess of the sun’s radiation, al-
though in doing so we are merely replac-
ing one difficulty with another. For
then we are led to ask: how can this
energy escape from the sunt And why,
in passing through the lower levels of
the solar atmosphere, does it not produce
observable effects in the ordinary absorp-
tion spectrum t To neither of these
questions has a satisfactory answer been
proposed, although the second is by no
means as serious as the first. In fact,
the latter query may possibly be coun-
tered with the statement that the ob-
served intensities of a few absorption
lines, like those of oxygen, hydrogen and
helium, can be better explained if the
excess ultra-violet energy is present.

Merely postulating the existence of ra*
diation pressure, however, falls far ibort

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

331

y<sricei vb»ervtUoni.

THE 80LAB COBONA

THIS PaOTOGRAPB, TAKKN MAY 28, 1900, IS IliLUSTBATITB OF TBK MINIMUM TYPE OF OOBONA, WITa
DISTINCT ' ‘miUSRBS ” NEAK THE POLE AND LONO EXTENSIONS PARALLEL TO THE EQUATIHL

of solving the entire problem of promi-
nence motion. There is the unsolved prob-
lem of how so delicate a balance is main-
tained automatically between radiation
pressure and gravity. There is a chance
that, if the ultra-violet radiation con-
sists in part of intense emission rather
than absorption lines, an equilibrium
can be secured. An atom, movinig too
fast, would be unable to absorb the line,
because of the Doppler effect. Its mo-
tion would, in consequence, be checked.
I confess, however, that the idea borders
on the speculative. The uniformity of
velocities in most prominences indicates
that no persistent accelerations are pres-
ent, except perhaps those in a direction
perpendicular to the motion, as the quaai-
oircular trajectories of the streaming
material indicatfiv It seems unlikely
indeed that either radiation pressure or
gravitation can be called on to explain
the curved trajectories.

Magnktic Fields Mat Assist

The curvature suggests that magnetic
fields may play a part in the phenome-
non. There are two partial explanations
available. It is well known that the
motion of electrified particles in a mag-
netic field is perpendicular to the mag-
netic lines of force. Are the great
curved trajectories, then, produced by
the circling of electrons around a mag-
netic field more or less parallel to the
solar surface f The radius of the tra-
jectory is inversely proportional to the
fidd intensity. The fields thus calcu-
lated are so very minute that one would
scarcely expect them to set up the elec-
tric emrents that must necessarily ac-
company such action.

If the motion of the matter is toward
the right, let us say, the electrons would
have to flow to the left. And since the
material must Iw neutral as a whole, the
matter can not move until a complete

332

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

electric circuit is established. A promi-
nence so constituted would consist of
matter streaming upward from the pho-
tosphere, reaching a maximum and
finally descending. The resultant mo-
tion is so unprominence-like that we may
discard the idea.

The second possibility is more promis-
ing. Suppose that an intense magnetic
field, e.^., that of a sun-spot, is in the
neighborhood. The lines of force, curv-
ing from the spot toward the prominence,
wUl be very nearly parallel to the solar
surface in this region. In the intense
magnetic field electrons will whirl in

BIPOLAR SPOT GROUP

THE DARK BYOBOQEN MARKIM08 SHOWK OK THE
SPECTROKELIOORAM EXHIBIT A PATTERK RS8EK-
BUKO THAT OBTAINABLE IK THE LABORATORY
FROH IRON FILINGS SPRINKLED OK A PAPER SUPER*
IMPOSED ON THE POLES OF A HORSE SHOE MAG-
NET. THEBE IS A POSSIBILITY THAT THE INTENSE
MAGNETIC FIELD OP THE SUN-SPOTS MAY PR(»>UCB
THE EFFECT. SVEN THOUGH THE HYDROGEN THAT
EMITTED THE LIGHT HERE RECORDED IS NEUTRAL,
A FAIRLY LARGE PROPORTION OF THE ATOMS ARB
IONIZED AND THEREFORE SUBJECT TO THE FORGES
OF THE , MAGNETIC FIELD. NOTE THE BRIGHT
HYDROGEN FLOCCULt BETWEEN THE PAIR OF SPOTS.
THIS ZONE IS PROBABLY AN AREA OF INTENSE
PROMINBNOB AOTmTY«

very tiny orbits, a few millimeters in
diameter. The ions will traverse some-
what larger orbits in the opposite direc-
tion, but there will be no charge separa-
tion, because the orbits are so small.
The magnetic field exerts a sort of stabil-
izing action and neither gravitation nor
radiation pressure can act in normal
fashion. There results a sort of gyro-
scopic action. A sudden blast of radia-
tion would cause the atom to move, not
upwards, but in a direction perpendic-
ular to the magnetic lines of force, t.e.,
essentially parallel to the solar surface.

Although interatomic collisions tend
to complicate the problem, the predicted
effect is enough like that observed in
prominences to warrant further investi-
gation. In fact, the observations indi-
cate that prominences, at least some of
which have definite vortical character,
may also possess magnetic fields. And
the very common appearance of double
prominences, connected with an overly-
ing arch, may well be analogous to a
bipolar spot. The tendency of such
objects to ‘ ^ erupt eventually may pos-
sibly arise from a dying of the asso-
ciated magnetic fields. The so-called sun-
spot type of prominence, consisting of
semi-periodic ejections and withdrawals
of flame-like tongues, is further evidence
in favor of this picture. Also should
be mentioned the peculiar striations ex-
hibited by the bright and dark fiocculi
in the neighborhood of spots — structure
similar to that of iron filings in the
vicinity of a magnet. Of course the
hydrogen photographs are taken in the
light of a neutral atom, but one should
recall that the gas is ionized a large part
of the time and hence subject to the
forces here described.

It should be emphasized that the mag-
netic fields merely influence the motion.
They provide no acceleration in the di-
rection the particle is moving. Atoms
are free to slide up or down, puraUel to
the lines of magnetic force, and react

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

333

naturally to the component of any other
force that ia exerted in this direction.
Near a spot, where the lines are nearly
vertical, the field exerts little or no sup-
porting action. The sun’s general mag-
netic field may also play a part.

Whether electric fields exist or not is
still an open question. The charge of
the earth is far greater than one would
expect to find on the basis of simple equi-
librium theory. One can not now defi-
nitely rule out the existence of similar
fields on the sun. They may be large
enough to exert an appreciable effect on
the motions of prominences, though they
probably do not contribute appreciably
to the support of the atmosphere.

This tentative theory stiggests a multi-
plicity of observational problems : study
of the curvature of prominence stream-
ers, their relation to one another and to
neighboring spots, measurements of the
patterns exhibited by flocculi near spots,
and perhaps even the detection of the
Zeeman splitting of prominence lines in
the magnetic fields. There is room, also,
for allied theoretical studies, such as
prominence vortices, the nature and ori-
gin of the magnetic fields, etc.

Probleus of the SoiiAR Corona

One must not forget that the promi-
nence motions occur in a medium that is
far from being a perfect vacuum, vk.,
the solar corona. All too little is known
of this interesting portion of the solar
atmosphere. The emission lines have
not been identified with those of any
known element, although they are un-
doubtedly due, not to a new substance,
but to a familiar one in some special con-
dition of excitation.

The corona consista of a very extensive
envelope of gas, in which streamers and
condensations in the form of ribbon-like
filaments exist. The form is roughly
93rmmetrical abotit the axis of rotation,
iirith the greatest extensions occurring
usually over the spot sones. In the

McMath'Hulbert Ohaervatary,
LIFE AND DEATH OP A PROMINENCE

THIS SELECTION OF VIEWS FBOIC A COMPLETE
MOTION-PICTURE RECORD SHOWS THE TREMENDOUS
DISTURBANCE RISINQ FROM THE LOWER CHROMO-
SPHERE, THROWINO OUT A BRILUANT LOOP WHICH
LATER DIBS AWAT. MEANWHILE, THE SUSPENDED
CLOUD PROMINENCE, WHICH PROBABLY UBS WELL
IN FRONT OF THE RECORDED DISTURBANCE, SHOWS
ONLY MINOR CHANGES,

corona, as in prominences, the character-
istic pattern is again suggestive of the
influence of a magnetic field.

Essentially nothing is known of in-
ternal coronal motions. It probably ro-
tates as a whole, along with the sun;
radial expansion probably exists. The
strong curvature of the laments in the
neighborhood of sun-spots suggests that
rapid changes may occur. But the diffi-
culty of observation has made it impos-
sible for us to determine much else
except its general variation with the sun-
spot period.

The development of tiie coronagraph
and coronaviser have opened new Adds
for observation and interpretation. Ly-
ot’s pioneer work, in France, proved so
successful that two similar instruments
have been built, one by Waldmeier, in
Switserland, and one by Harvard' Ob-

334

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Mt. WiUon ObMTvatory,

tHB SUN AT TIMES OF MAXIMUM (LEFT) AND MINIMUM 8POTTEDNBSS

servatoiy, now stationed at Climax, Colo-
rado, at an .altitude of 11,5(X) feet. With
these instruments, fairly rejnilar obser-
vations should be possible of at least the
inner corona. Cinematograph records
should disclose the nature of internal
motions and their relation to those of the
prominences.

It is now known that there exist promi-
nences of purely coronal nature, rich in
light of the unidentified lines, but lack-
ing the customary chromospheric radia-
tions. These prominences are known to
be associated with regions of high excita-
tion in the chromosphere, and further
investigation of the problem should be
possible with the coronagraph. Spectro-
graphic observations to search for new
lines and provide better wave-lengths of
the old ones, will assist in the identifica-
tion of the atoms responsible for the.
mysterious radiations. As previously
mentioned, the coronagraph is a power-
ful instrument for the study of promi-
nence motions.

The lower corona, the prominences and
even the. chromosphere are intermingled.
The coronal lines attain their greatest
intensity within the boundaries of the

chromosphere. Hence, as mentioned
above, the resistance of the corona to
prominence motions, the effects of vis-
cosity, must be studied. The possibility
exists that prominence motions can not
be considered separately at all, and that
one must treat the fiow of gases in the
sun’s extensive atmosphere as a problem
in gaseous hydrodynamics.

The Quantitt of Solab Radiation

There is one final and extremely im-
portant aspect of solar observation: the
question of the quality and quantity of
the sun’s radiation. Here, indeed, is
presented one of the most complicated of
all the observational problems. The dif-
ficulties are imposed, not by the sun it-
self, but by the extreme accuracy re-
quired and by the earth’s atmosphere,
through which we . must make our mea-
surements. We must correct for the
absorption caused by the various con-
stituents of the atmosphere. The tech-
nique is far from simple, and great credit
must go to O. 6. Abbot, of the Smith-
sonian Institution, for his long and care-
ful investigation of the problem.

His results may be briefly summarised.

A PREFACE TO SOLAR RESEARCH

335

In the spectral region accessible to ob-
servation, the sun’s energy curve corre-
sponds closely to that of a black radiator
at temperature of about 6,000® Absolute.
There is some discrepancy in the ultra-
violet, where the solar radiation is some-
what less than expected, perhaps because
of the large number of intense overlap-
ping absorption lines. The total radia-
tion is estimated by interpolation and
extrapolation over the absorption bands
produced by molecules of the earth’s
atmosphere. The value of this total
energy is known as the solar constant.

In the strictest sense, the figure is not
constant. Abbot has shown that the
amount fluctuates by about one per cent.
Some periodicities are indicated, the
best substantiated being cycles of ap-
proximately eleven years and of eleven
months, respectively. The former,
clearly, is associated with the sun-spot
variation. Larger fluctuations in the

magnitude of the ultra-violet enwgy
have been suspected but not confirmed
because of the difficulty in elimination
of the absorption of the earth’s atmos-
phere.

The earth ’s atmosphere ! A perpetual
nightmare to astronomical observation!
Prom the standpoint of terrestrial life, it
is perhaps provident that atmospheric
ozone absorbs the far ultra-violet. None
whatever of radiation short of about
2,800 Angstroms penetrates the ozone
shell. We might as well be living in a
dark cellar, for all the solar radiation
that comes through in this spectral
range.

And yet this radiation is highly im-
portant from the terrestrial point of
view. As I previously stated, it is
chiefly responsible for the electrification
of the atmospheric layer that reflects
radio waves. Our estimates of the quan-
tity of this far-ultra-violet energy must

FBEMONT PASS STATION, HARVARD OBSERVATORY, CLIMAX, COLORADO

TBtS BUILDING BOUsis TBS NBW COZONAQEAPB, WHIOB BAS JUBt BZBN XNSTALLBD. TBB UNUSUAL
SBAPB Of THZ **laom** WAS CHOSXN BSCAUBX OF TBB BZAVT SNOWFALL, WBICH AVXEAGBS ABOUT

TWXNTV FBBT fXB TBAB AT TBB ALTITUDE OF 11,500 FBBT.

336

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

be largely inferential. Abbot assumes
that the solar curve follows that of a
black radiator at 6,000®, with a depletion
of about 70 per cent., and thus deduces
a correction of about 4 per cent, to be
added to the measured energy.

On such an assumption the energy
lying in the extreme ultra-violet, at 1,000
Angstrom units and beyond, is negligible
— ^about one millionth of the whole.
Nevertheless, if the sun radiates in this
spectral region as if its temperature were
12,000® or higher, as the excitation of
the hydrogen chromosphere and iono-
sphere seem to dem»id, an additional
factor is required, which may amount to
several per cent. Further, radiation in
this particular region may fluctuate enor-
mously with solar activity. Apparently
the only way open for investigating it at
present is from observations of the spec-
trum, or possibly also from study of the
solar corona.

Investigation of the solar constant
should be continued, both by the methods
developed at the ^ Smithsonian Institu-
tion and by any new experimental pro-
cedures that can be devised to determine
the troublesome atmospheric corrections.
Brian 0 ’Brien and his colleagues at the
University of Bochester make use of air-
planes and balloons to eliminate the
lower atmospheric levels. Such studies
are profoundly important.

The Sun and the Eabth

There is scarcely one of all the fore-
going phases of solar research mentioned
in the foregoing discussion that does not
have some bearing on the interesting
problem of solar-terrestrial relationships.
For all contribute to our knowledge of
the sun and how it operates. The results
of the investigations outlined point di-
rectly to a determination of the quantity
and quality of solar radiation and of the
various corpuscular emissions, ions and
electrons, some of which may reach the
earth.

The picture will be complete only if
the physicist, the radio-engineer, the
geoph 3 rsicist and the meteorologist are
brought into close collaboration. There
are the ionosphere problems, so closdy
allied with magnetic storms and aurorae.
And, Anally, there is the ever-significant
question of the relationship between
solar variability and weather phenomena.
The foregoing researches should give new
indices, perhaps far more sensitive than
sun-spots, for estimating the state of
solar activity. And, what is even more
important, they may provide a basis for
a definite physical tie-up between the
sun and variable weather phenomena.
Such a conclusion would be of great as-
sistance in guiding the statistician who
seeks to correlate ^^weather’’ on the sun
with that on the earth.

THE ELECTRON MICROSCOPE

By THEODORE A. SMITH

SNOIKBERING PBODUOT8 DIVISION, BOA MANITFACTUBINO COMPANY

Although announcement of the de- sizes, by the use of spectroscopic means
velopment of electron microscopes to a or the ultra centrifuge. Naturally, data
point where they might be applied to on the size, shape or distribution of col-
scientific research problems is still rela- loidal particles, the structure of plastics
tively new, already instruments are and similar information would be valu-
being manufactured for the leading able to industry. There is every reason
scientific laboratories in the United to believe that many virus bodies, too
States. In addition, those who have had small to be seen with optical microscopes,
the opportunity to use electron micro- may be responsible for diseases. The
scopes have reported a number of inter- electron microscope opens up fields of
esting discoveries which are indications research in the world of the very small
of what may be expected in the future which may be of inestimable value to
when further research work has been humanity.

done. Why can not such small particles be

Before the advent of the electron seen with optical microscopes f Reasons
microscope, information regarding ob- why this is the case will make clear the
jects too small to be seen could be need for a new type of microscope,
obtained only indirectly, by estimating Ordinarily, two points separated by a

. ► '

STBEPTOOOdOUS BETA HAEMOLYTIOUS MAaRIFlED 84,000 DIAUBTEBS
THt (HUOINAIi inOBOmAPH eiCUKED WITB TRK POWUmL BUCOTION inOKOBOOPI 0ATI A lUSMjn-
CATION OF 46,000 DUMBTBB8. AT THIS MAGNIFICATION A HUMAN RAIB J^OVW HATB A DUMBTSB

OF MOBB THAN 10 FBBT*

ai7

338

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

distance less than 0.2 millimeters are not
visible as discrete points but will be seen
only as a single blur. By the use of a
simple magnifying glass, it is possible to
extend the range of observation down-
ward about ten times so that it is possible
to distinguish points separated by about
.02 millimeters. A simple magnifying
glass may even be carried further, and
it is interesting to note that Leeuwen-
hoek (who is usually credited with the
invention of the microscope) used a sim-
ple magnifying glass for his observations
and was able to distinguish many ani-
malcules, although he apparently had
exceptional eyesight. The use of the
compound microscope ^tends the range
of visibility to objects 1,000 times smaller
than could be seen with the unaided eye.
This means that with the ordinary in-
strument, points separated by .0002 mil-
limeters may be observed.

TUBERCULOSIS BACILLI
Above: human bacillus maqnifibd 22,000
DXAMET2BS, SHOWING HITHERTO QUITE UNKNOWN
DETAILS. THE ORIGINAL MAONtnOATION WITH
THE RCA ELECTRON MICROSCOFE WAS 42,000.
Below: bovine bacillus magnxited 44,000

DIAMETERS. REDUCED FROM A MlOROQRAra BAV-
ZNO A MAONiriCATION OF 84,000 DIAMETERS*

In the extension of the range of vision
up to magnifications of 1,000, the prin-
cipal limitations are those caused by
optical deficiencies in the lenses which
may be minimized by special lens formu-
las. However, above magnifications of
1,000 a new limitation creeps in ; namely,
the wave-length of the medium used to
view the specimens, that is to Say, light,
itself.

The wave-length of light in the visible
range is in the order of .0004 to .0008
millimeters, and it will be apparent that
many of the bacteria or other objects
which scientists wish to examine are
smaller than this value. Mr. Hillier, of
Dr. Zworykin’s electron research group
who have been responsible for the de-
velopment of this instrument, offers an
interesting parallel which helps to make
this point clear. If we drop a stone into
a small pond causing ripples to radiate
from it in all directions and if these
ripples chance to strike a vertical stake
in the pond, a disturbance will be caused
in the regularity of the ripples as they
pass the stake. However, as the wave-
lets pass beyond the stake, the dis-
turbances are smoothed out, so that sev-
eral feet away the wavelets are nearly
parallel and it is difficult to tell that the
stake had interrupted their passage at
all.

Now, things are seen due to their dis-
turbing effect on light waves. If lio
disturbance is produced, we can hot see
them. Therefore, if objects are much
smaller than the wave-length of the me-
dium used to observe them, whether it be
water or light, they produce a dis-
turbance which is very small and, hence,
can not be easily detected. If, instead
of a small stake in the pond, we had
observed the effects of a boat shadowing
the waves radiated by the dropping Of
a stone, we would discover that beyond
the boat the waves were entirely ob-
scured or, in other words, the effect of
the boat was to disturb the waves to a
considerable degree.

THE ELECTRON MICROSCOPE

339

Thus, objects much larger than the
observing medium will produce an effect
which may easily be detected and this,
of course, is what permits us to see
everyday objects.

One solution, of coarse, is to employ
light of shorter wave-lengths, and this
has been carried forward in the ultra-
violet type of microscope so that a mag-
nification of approximately 2,500 is pos-
sible ; this permits us to observe particles
separated by a distance of slightly less
than .0001 millimeters.

Other means also exist for stretching
the range of the optical type microscope,
but they can not be extended indefinitely
so that it appears that the scope of seeing
smaller and smaller objects by means of
light is definitely limited to a useful mag-
nification of approximately 2,500 diame-
ters. If we go above this point and
magnify to a greater extent, we do not
discover any new detail but merely make
the resulting image larger. As long as
the image can be made as big as .2 milli-
meters, we do not gain any new informa-
tion by further enlargement.

The electron microscope represents a
means to extend the scope of seeing to
smaller objects. It makes use of a stream
of electrons with which is associated a
wave-length many times smaller than
even that of ultra-violet light. In fact.

THE NEW ELECTRON MICROSCOPE

BBINO USED BY DB. T. K. ZWOBYKIK, STANDINa,
DIBECTOB OP EUeCTBON BBBBABCB OP THE KCA
labobatobibb, and JAUBB HILLIBK, BUTBD, 00-
DBVBLOPEB OP THE NEW ELBCTBON XICBOBOOPB.

range of seeing to things 1/50. of the
minimum size observable with the best
light microscope.

Obviously, witit a stream of electrons
it is impossible to employ the ordinary
type of lenses which are used in the more
familiar microscope since electrons do

the wave-length of an electron beam,
having a velocity of 60 kilovolts, such
as is used in the commercial type elec-
tron microscope, is small enough so that
theoretically it should be possible to see
atoms.

Other effects, however, prevent this
enormous resolution from being realised,
but, practically, it is possible to observe
large molecules; and magnifications up
to approximateljr 100,000 may be em-'
ployed before ei^usting the detail per;
mitted by this medium. In other words,
instead of a limitiAi<m of observing par-
tides separated by a distance of .OOOi

not pass through very thick or dense
materifds. However, a magnetic field
produced by a coil with a current flow-
ing though it will deflect a strdim of
electrons and by properly designing tiie
coil, it may be made to act as a converg-
ing lens does and, hence, to produce an
Image of the disturbance caused when
'Electrons pass through the material to
be examined. In the RCA electron
mitlt'osobpe three such lens structures
are employed. The flrst serves as a
magnetic condenser Imu, having a func-
tion similar to that of the sub-stage con-
denser in an ordinary microscope; the

millimeters, we can now observe particles second lens prodnces a magnificatiofi of
separated by a distance of .006003 milli- approximately 100 -times and acts as a
meters so that we . have extended the magnetic objective lens. The third mag-

; -I '('>^r‘.'.'

'■p>'

■' 'r ' ‘ ':*!

ITO||fly I U I ' y .'V,.^,,' , V '' , , .

'4.

ELECTKON MlCliOGRAPH SHOWING APPEARANCE OF ZINC OXIDE PIGMENT
MAONinCATlON ABOUT 24,000 DIAMETERS; ORIGINAL MAGNIFICATION, 44,000 DIAMETERS.

■ . ■■ ^ '■ ■■ 'Jl ■ ^

, 'Iv

:.y 0 m

• ^ ::S^«

liiW’

A f

^W' ‘

■'

' ' ' i*' *r’- ■ . ^ ‘ ■' i't -? . ■ ;.

^ .' ■ ■*•' .?'•• • ''/'irA" - -"h*' ■:■

\i . ' •*. * ■'.• ;' • *. ' »,v.

- ■ r’. ■• • 'ii ,♦ "' > <■ ' ' * '.. •'■ ■' ,' .:'■ .

,'. ' ‘C-’ ' . ./'*•' -'’ '■• '

’ ' - ' * ‘ 't ^ *.. «' ■ ’ ? ' ■ '

A FAMILIAB BACTERIUM— AERO BACTERIUM CLOACAE
HAONIFICATION ABOUT 30,000 DIAltETERB ; OEIOINAL MAONITICATION, 64,000 DIAUBTBB6

liaiii tots M fla liiwge

«dditiiQiu3 ttiigidltetttioii 'whieh
intilr rw{ai>«d to hriiig tike detail to a
dee Kflkieh may be readily obaeroed. The
dee^n Btream ia generated by a heated
filame&t aimilar to that in a radio tube
and ainoe mdeonlea of air would inter-
fere with the normal paaaage of eleo-
trona, Tacuum pumpa exhaust the cham-
ber to a pressure corresponding to about
1(H millimeters of mmaury.

'When the dectron stream passes
through the object to be examined, the
denser portion of the material will cause
the deetrons to be scattered in various
directions. The more dense the sub-
stance, the more scattering will take
place and, hence, fewer deetrons from
this portion of the specimen can get
through the aperture in the objective
and reach the viewing screen. In addi-
tion, if the atoms of a purticular mate-
rial are heavy they will also serve to
deflect more deetrons thau if thc^ were
light. Thus, the image formed by the
deetiHm atream ia built up due to the
atmnic wdght and the density of the
substance being examined.

Mectrom are entirdy invisible, but if
the dreaih is permitted to strike a
fluoreMCBt screen an image will be
created of light and dark pwtiona cor-
reiVdiding to the electron density.
Bence, in the dectron microscope the
image is seen not by direct observation
imt by looking at the pattern produced
on the Ihioreaoent screen. Bleetrons will
ahio dlBCt a photographic |date in the
same Bumner as light and, if the fluores-
esBt seseen is removed and a. photo-
gnikhie plate anbatitated, it is possible
to obtain a permanent record. Sudi
can not be eaUed photogrmkha

di^ dmy mo tmt prodnesd by light bm

: 4^ jit hf naeaaiaiy to intreduec
'dm 'Ob-
mm: 'made, 'hh lodni ' m«

te;imter.mdy a

maiy :'W'inma®id

mitire inatnunest k not ipdled.; Iltii
posdble to move the qmcinmo dmht ' hk
order to examine varkiiis pwtkna of thie
fidd and, in fact, the pFooedure of tak^.
ing a mierograidk with the dcotxmi
mieroeoope is actually dmpler in aome
rcepecta than the cquivalmt prooedura
when using an optied inatrument For
cmunple, in severd instancea it baa been
possible to obtain negativcB of the mate-
rial under observation which had been
brought into the laboratory in a teat-tube
only ten minutee before.

Since a high vdtage k reqidred to
accelerate the deetrons and to eanae
them to travd in straight linea, it k im-
portant that thk vdtage be constant <v
the resulting picture will be Idiirred.
Dr. A. 'W. 'Vance has designed an ex-
trmudy stable power supply aydam
which greatly redueea these fluetuatiouB
and permits long-time emxxnireB without
blurring.

The entire unit k contained in a atme-
ture comprising a metd rack emtaining
the power supply equipment and a
edumn in front of the rack which k the
microscope tube, itself. The doetrmi
mieroBoope k fooused by varying the
current through the magnetic lenaea and
thk control, as wdl as the magnifloatioin
oontrols, k mounted on tiio front pand
of the power supply rack. With tha
exeeption of a vacuum fore pump, tho
mieroBOOpe k sdf-eontsinsd and operates
from a 110 volt, AC supi^ requiring
only about 2.5 kw power.

As an indication of the simpUdiy of
its use, , it hai been poadble to bring
persons who an aeqnakksd with lahoink-
tory proeedun, but nho had never naed
the deotron miereeeope bafimei to the
hastrumait and to bays tiiem tddng
pUstaxM with it two oaF diree ham alter
they fkit see it.

Beeause of dik simpiidty in optM-
tioa, it k eipaotod tkd nstoiedi mid
devdopmmit work will be fadlitatod and

''rto"

I ' .

'bo dkdooed ' iibfa|lF;tmw;’lim. ':b(Qmimi::m
mraito of til# fff''

HOW DARWINISM CAME TO THE

UNITED STATES

By Profenor W. M. SMALLWOOD

RKAD or THE DEPARTMENT OF COMPARATIVE ANATOMY, BTRAOUSE TJNIVER8ITT

It is interesting to drop back to the
first meeting of Charles Darwin and Asa
Gray, which took place in London. This
event, simply recorded by Asa Gray in his
journal on January 22, 1838, gives no in-
timation of the important series of hap-
penings which were to follow two decades
later: '^We there met Mr. Darwin, the
naturalist who accompanied Captain
King in the BeagU.^*^ Professor Gray
made his first voyage to Europe while on
a leave of absence from the newly estab-
lished University of Michigan.

Thirteen years later, early in 1851,
when Professor and Mrs. Gray made a
journey to Europe, Mrs. Gray wrote in
her diary the following account of the
second meeting of those two great men :

And one day came an invitation to lunch from
the Hookers’, ‘to meet Mr. Darwin, who is
coming to meet Mr. Hooker; is distinguished as
a naturalist’ Mr. Darwin was a lively, agree-
able person.^

Owing to the strange ways of mice and
men, there seems to be no way of learning
what influenced Gray to ^gin writing to
Darwin, and Darwin to continue the cor-
respondence. We read, that Gray's let-
ters to Darwin previous to 1862 were
mostly destroyed, and those of a later
date more or less injured by mice.* It
is impossible to do more than outline the
infiuences that led Darwin to take Gray
into his confidence after two casual meet-
ings. This was an honor which had been
extended to but two Englishmen — Joseph
D. Hooker and Sir Charles Lyell.

1 For a detailed description of this meeting,
see “Letters of Asa Gray,’’ Jane Loring Gray,
editor (Boston and New York, 1893), I, 117.

* “Letters of Asa Gray,’’ n, 880.

> Ibid., 464.

Gray had written some of his philo-
sophic conclusions about ‘‘species" to
Hooker in 1854, noting that “scientific
Systematic Botany" rests upon species
“created with almost infinitely various
degrees of resemblance among each
other." This unpublished letter* indi-
cates that there is variation in some spe-
cies; and, because of its importance in
almost anticipating Darwin, is quoted
rather fully :

But who shall lay down a rule as to how much
two plants shall differ in order to be admitted
as specifically different f That must be deter-
mined by observation and experience alone: —
which show that while some species are extremely
polymorphous, others, that we doubt not are dis-
tinct, differ constantly in one or two particulars
which experience proves to be of no moment at
all in an^ogous eases. (If it be said that it is
not likely the Creator should originate two spe-
cies with so trifling a difference between them, I
would suggest that the marks we define a species
by do not eonstitute the species; they are only
the convenient ‘outward and visible sign of an
inward grace,’).

One would have more confidence in
Gray’s graq> of the significance of varia-
tion, if he had omitted the above sentence
which he placed in parentheses. He con-
tinued :

When we find two • • . representative forms
geographically connected by intermediate sta-
tions — ^the differences, such as they are, ... is
a question to be decided either way, with more
or less probability, according to our best judg-
ment on the ease, but we cannot pretend to
decide it with anything like certain^. But if,
with the mingling or approximation of the areas
we find a shading off of the differenees, then it

«For a copy of this letter, written by Asa
Gray from Cambridge, Massachusetts, February
21, 1854, the author wikhes to thank Dr. M. Ia
G reen, of the Herbarium at the Boyal Botanic
Gardens, Kew, Surrey, England, where the origi-
nal letter is deposited.

HOW DARWINISM CAME TO THE UNITED STATES 343

is far more likely that they all belong to one
species. . . .

And this leads me to two points that I must
have boggled in my former letter: for as they
stand in my mind, I see no real contradiction
between them, vi», the general and fundamental
law of genetic resemblance, and the exceptional,
inexplicable (we should call it impossible antece-
dently to the fact) origin of races, which, once
originated, equally follow the law of genetic
resemblance, show the strongest tendency to re-
produce the parental features or peculiarities, —
though this be partly overborne by the tendency
to revert to the original type — but more gen-
erally obliterated by intermixture of stock.

In the same letter. Gray raised the
question of variation :

Unisexual trees, you observe, are not more
variable than hermaphrodite ones. Did it ever
occur to you that they should be less variable
because unisexual — the inevitable mingling of
stock preventing the continuance of individual
peculiarities t And consider, also, how many
more plants than is generally thought are sub-
polygamous or subdioecious, — tho stamens more
vigorous in one individual, the pistil in another.

The complete letter was sent to Darwin
soon after Hooker had received it, accord-
ing to the following communication which
Hooker had from Darwin, written on
March 26, 1854. Darwin’s closing sen-
tence was especially revealing :

I am particularly obliged to you for sending
me Asa Gray's letter; how very pleasantly ho
writes. To see his and your caution on the
species-question ought to overwhelm me in con-
fusion and shame; it does make me feel deuced
uncomfortable. ... I was pleased and surprised
to see A. Gray’s remarks on crossing, obliterat-
ing varieties, on which, as you know, I have
been collecting facts for these dozen years. How
awfully flat I shall feel, if when I get my notes
together on species, etc., etc., the whole thing
explodes like an empty pufP-ball.B

It was in April of the next year that
Darwin wrote his first letter to Gray, in-
cidentally stating : *^I may premise that I
have for several years been collecting
facts on Variation,’ and when I find
that any general remark seems to hold

ft^^life and Letters of Oharles Darwin,”
Franois Darwin, editor (New York, 1897), I,
408«

good amongst animals, I try to test it in
Plants.”* He continued with a request
for information regarding Alpine planta
There was no reference made to tile
above-mentioned letter which Gray had
written to Hooker.

Early in 1856, Lyell urged Darwin to
write out his views on the origin of spe-
cies; and in July of that year we learn
that Darwin was cautiously sounding out
Gray:

It is not a little egotistical, but I should like
to tell you (and I do not thinJe I have) how I
view my work. Nineteen years (I) ago it oc-
curred to me that whilst o^erwise employed on
Nat. Hist., I might perhaps do good if I noted
any sort of facts bearing on the question of the
origin of species, and this I have since been
doing. Either species have been independently
created, or they have descended from other spe-
cies, like varieties from one species. • . . But
as an honest man, I must tell you that I have
come to tho heterodox conclusion that there are
no such things as independently created species
— ^that species are only strongly defined varie-
ties.^

A little more than a year was to pass
before Darwin wrote Gray a still more
significant letter, in which he summarised
the theory of natural selection, and re-
quested secrecy :

You will, perhaps, think it paltry in me, when
I ask you not to mention my doctrine ; the reason
is, if any one, like the author of ^Vestiges,’*
were to hear of them, he might easily work them
in, and then 1 should have to quote from a work
perhaps despised by naturalists, and this would
greatly injure any chance of my views being
received by those alone whose opinions I value.*

In this brief paper it is impossible to
reproduce more than a part of Darwin’s

e This is the first letter Darwin wrote to Gray.
See ”Life and Letters,” I, 420.

T Ibid., 437.

*Bobert Chambers, "Vestiges of the Natural
History of Creation” (New York, 1846).

• Journal of the Proceedings of the Linnesan
Society (London, 1850), xxx, 51. For a brief
extract, see "Life and Letters,” I, 477; also a
footnote added by Francis Darwin with refer-
ence to the date of this letter, which "life and
Letters” printed aa."8ept. 5 [1867].”

844

THE SOIENTIFIO MONTHLY

letter of September 5, 1857, which, though
it contained many closely written pages,
Darwin called a **mo8t imperfect” sketch,
telling Gray that ”your imagination
must fill up very wide blanks.” It con-
tained the first statement of Darwinism to
come to the United States; secondly,
Gray really had in his possession the con-
clusive evidence that Darwin had formu-
lated his theory prior to that of Alfred
Russel Wallace, whose letter from Ter-
nate was dated February, 1858. Thirdly,
this outline of natural selection sent to
Asa Gray indicated either that Darwin
had confidence in him, or that he wished
to protect his hypothesis from being
anticipated by Gray. Fourthly, Asa
Gray thus had two years to refiect on the
implications of natural selection before
he undertook to expound and defend it.
This gave Gray a distinct advantage in
the Darwinian controversy.

Students of the history of American
biology, especially those interested in
what Darwin regarded as the essence of
his theory, will be glad to have easy access
to this abstract of his letter, written from
his home at The Downs :

It is wonderful what the principle of selection
by man, that is the picking out of individuals
with any desired quality, and breeding from
them, and again picking out, can do. Even
breeders have been astounded at their own
results. They can act on differences inappre-
ciable to an uneducated eye. Selection has been
methodieally followed in Europe for only the
last half century; but it was occasionally, and
even in' some degree methodically, followed in
the most ancient times. There must have been
also a kind of unconscious selection from a re-
mote period, namely in the preservation of the
individual animals (without any thought of their
offspring) most useful to each race of man < in
his particular circumstances. The ^roguing,’
as nurserymen call the destroying of varieties
which depart from their type, is a kind of selec-
tion. I am convinced that intentional and occa-
sional selection has been the main agent in the
production of our domestie races; but however
this may be, its great power of modification has
been indisputably shown in later times. Selec-
tion acts only by the accumulation of slight or
greatw variations, caused by external conditions.

or by the mere fkct that in generation the child
is not absolutely similar to its parent. Kan, by
this power of accumulating variations, adapte
living beings to his wants — may be said to make
the wool of one sheep good for carpets, of
another for doth, etc. . . .

I think it can be shown that there is such an
unerring power at work in Natural Seleciion
(the titl^ of my book), which sdects exdusivdy
for the good of each organic being. The elder
Be Oandolle, W. Herbert, and Lyell have writ-
ten excellently on the struggle for life; but
even they have not written strongly enough.
Beflect ^t every being (even the dephant)
breeds at such a rate, that in a few years, or
at most a few centuries, the surface of the earth
would not hold the progeny of one pair. I have
found it hard constantly to bear in mind that
the increase of every single species is cheeked
during some part of its Ufe, or during some
shortly recurrent generation. Only a few of
those annually bom can live to propagate their
kind. What a triffing difference must often de-
termine which shall survive, and which perish I

Now take the case of a country undergoing
some change. This will tend to cause some of
its inhabitants to vary slightly — not but that I
believe most beings vary at all times enough for
selection to act on theuL Borne of its inhabi-
tants will be exterminated; and the remainder
will be exposed to the mutual action of a dif-
ferent set of inhabitants, which I believe to be
far more important to the life of each being
than mere climate. Considering the inilnitdy
various methods which living beings follow to
obtain food by struggling with other organisms,
to escape danger at various times of life, to
have their eggs or seeds disseminated, etc., etc.,
I cannot doubt that during millions of genera-
tions individuals of a species will be occasionally
bom with some slight variation, profitable to
some part of their economy. Buch individuals
will have a better chance of surviving, and of
propagating their new and slightly different
stmeture; and the modiflcation may be slowly
increased by the accumularive action of natund
selection to any profitable extent The variety
thus formed will either coexist with, or, more
commonly, will exterminate its parent form.
An organic being, like the woodpecker or missri-
toe, may thus come to be adapted to a score of
contingencies— natural selection accumulating
those slight variarions in all parts of its stme-
ture, which are in any way useful to it during
any part of its life.

Multiform difficulties will occur to every one,
with respect to this theory. Many can, I think,
be satisfactorily answer^ Naiura uau food
tdlUm [Nature does not make leaps] answers
some of the most obvious. The slowness of the

HOW DARWINISM CAME TO THE UNITED STATES 345

ehange, and onlj a very few indiiriduale under-
going eliange at any one timOi answers others.
The extreme imperfection of our geological rec-
ords answers others.

Another principlei which may be called the
principle of divergence^ plays, I believe, an im-
portant part in the origin of species. The same
spot will support more life if occupied by very
diverse forms. We see this in the many generic
forms in a square yard of turf, and in the plants
or insects on any little uniform islet, belonging
almost invariably to as many genera and fami-
lies as species. We can understand the meaning
of this fact amongst the higher animals, whose
habits we understand. We know that it has been
experimentally shown that a plot of land will
yield a greats weight if sown with several spe-
cies and genera of grasses, than if sown with
only two or three species. Now, every organic
being, by propagating so rapidly, may bo said
to be striving its utmost to increase in numbers.
8o it will be with the offspring of any species
after it has become diversified into varieties, or
subspecies, or true species. And it follows, I
think, from the foregoing facts, that the varying
offspring of each species will try (only few will
succeed) to seise on as many and as diverse
places in the economy of nature as possible.
Each new variety or species, when formed, will
generally take the place of, and thus exterminate
its less well-fitted parent. This I believe to be
the origin of the classification and affinities of
organic beings at all times; for organic beings
always seem to branch and sub-branch like the
limbs of a tree from a common trunk, the flour-
ishing and diverging twigs destroying the less
vigorous — ^the dead and lost branches rudely rep-
resenting extinct genera and families. . .

J. D. Hooker had been in Darwin’s
confidence for many years, during which

10 Journal of the Proceedings of the lAnncean
Society: **On the Tendency of Species to form
Varieties; and on the Perpetuation of Varieties
and Species by Natural Means of Selection, ’ ’ by
Oharles Darwin, Esq., F.B.S., FX.S., and F.G.S.,
and Alfred Wallace, Esq. Communicated by Sir
Oharles Lyell, F.R»S., F.L.S., and J. D. Hooker,
Esq., MJ>., V.P.Bj3., F.L.S., etc. These letters
were read on July 1, 1858. First came a letter
signed by Ijyell and Hooker. Enclosures were*.
(1) Extracts from the Ms. of Charles Darwin,
i^etched in 1889, copied in 1844; (2) An ab-
stract of the letter from Darwin to Gray (Octo-
ber, 1857) ; and (8) The essay by WaUace, writ-
ten in February, 181^, *'for the perusal of his
friend and corresponilent Mr. Darwin, and sent
to him with the expressed wish that it should be
forwarded to Sir Charles Lyell, if Mr. Darwin
thought it sufficiently novel and interesting.’’

time he had become a believer in natural
selection; but, because of the pledge to
secrecy, had been forced to retain the
creation hypothesis in his writings.
Hooker, writing to Gray from Eew, on
October 20, 1858, revealed his early
acceptance of natural selection :

Most thankful I am that I now can use Dar-
win ’s doctrines — hitherto they have been secrets
I was bound in honor to know, to keep, to dis-
cuss with him in private — A to combat if I could
in private — ^but never to allude to in public, A I
had always in my writings to discuss the sub-
jects of creation, variation, etc., as if 1 had
never hoard of Natural Selection, which 1 have
all along known A felt to be not only useful in
itself as explaining many facts in variation,
but as the most f at^ argument against * Special
Creation,’ A for 'Derivation’ being the rule for
all specie8.ii

Hooker thus told of the embarrass-
ment which Darwin ’s confidence had
caused him. Gray was placed in a simi-
lar position, though for a much shorter
period. For some time he had been com-
paring the flora of Japan with that of the
United States. It was on December 14,
1858, that he read a notable paper on the
distribution of similar species of plants
in the two countries. In a footnote,
probably added while the paper was
going through the press, Gray became
specific, but did not reveal that he had
received confidential information from
Darwin: ‘‘The only noteworthy attempt
at a scientific solution of the problem . . .
is that of Mr. Darwin and (later) of Mr.
WaUace. . . . But 1 am already disposed,
on these and other grounds, to admit that
what are termed closely related species
may in many cases be lineal descendents
from a pristine stock.”'*

If it is permissible to draw an infer-
ence, it seems clear that the conservative
Asa Gray would not have added this note
unless he had become convinced, throu|^

Gray Oorrespondenoe^ Gray Harbarlum,
Oambridge, Massaehusotts.

IS ‘^Memoirs,” Amaricaa Academy of Arts
and Soicnoes, New Spriea (Oambridge and Boa-
ton, 1859), VI, Part 1, 448.

346

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Darwin letter of September 5, 1857, of
the genetic continuity of species.

Publication op thb ‘‘Origin op
Spboibs^^ by Appleton

The confidence which impelled Charles
Darwin to reveal his precious secret to
Asa Gray readily explains why he should
turn to him to supervise the publication
of the “Origin of Species^* in the United
States. Darwin’s first letter concerning
this business was written after John Mur-
ray, of London, had brought out the first
edition of the “Origin” in 1859. It tells
of the remarkable sale of the entire edi-
tion on the first day, and of his ambition
for an American edition.

I should for several reasons be very glad of
an American Edition; I have made up my mind
to be much abused ; bnt I think it of importance
that my notions should be read by intelligent
men, accustomed to scientific arguments though
not naturalists. . . .

The first Edition of 1250 copies was sold on
the first day, and now my Publisher is printing
oft as rapidly as possible 3000 more copies. I
mention this solely because it renders probable a
remunerative sale in America. I should be in-
finitely obliged if you could aid an American
Reprint, and could make, for my sake and Pub-
lishers, any arrangement for any profit.^*

It might be well, at this point, to note
the financial arrangement with Murray,
which was generous and possibly sugges-
tive : “My terms with Murray are that I
receive § of Profits, & he

Asa Gray took steps to have the Boston
publishers, Ticknor and. Fields, bring out
the “Origin of Species,” as this letter to
Darwin records :

You have my hurried letter telling you of the
arrival of the remainder of the' sheets of the
reprint; and of the stir 1 had made for a reprint

18 Publications of the Origin of Bpedes’’
by Appleton: 1860; New Edition, 1868; Fifth
Edition, 1870 ; Sixth Edition, 1890 ; New Print-
ing, 1892; Authorised Edition, 1896; New Print-
ing, 1900; Sixth Edition, 1926.

18 Gray Correspondence, Gray Herbarium.
See, also, ''life and Letters,’’ II, 89.

16 Gray Correspondence, Gray Herbarium,
Darwin to Gray, January 28 [I860].

In Boston. Well, all looked pretty well, when,
lo, we found that a second New York publishing
house had announced a reprint also! I wrote
then to both New York publishers, asking them
to give way to the author and his reprint of a
revised edition. I got an answer from Harpers
that they withdrew — ^from the Appletons that
they had got the book out (and the next day I
saw a copy) ; but that, ' if the work should have
any considerable sale, we certainly shall be dis-
posed to pay the author reasonably and lib-
erally. ’IS

The subject of royalties is of interest
to every author, and the custom of Ameri-
can publishers before the adoption of the
international copyright law was that each
paid as he saw fit. It has been maintained
that American publishers treated English
authors at that time the same as they did
those of the United States. This widely
accepted belief may be traced to the fol-
lowing statement of John Fiske: “The
Appletons . . . always paying a royalty
to the authors, the same as to American
authors, in spite of the absence of an
international copyright law.”^^

However, the following facts in refer-
ence to Darwin and Gray will show that
Fiske ’s statement was not correct.

Darwin, writing to Asa Gray on May
22, 1860, said :

Again I bave to thank you for one of your
very pleasant letters of May 7th, enclosing a
very pleasant remittance of £22. I am in simple
truth astonished at all the kind trouble you have
taken for me. 1 return Appleton’s account.
For the chance of your wiping a formal ac-
knowledgment I send one. If you have any
further communication to the Appletons, pray
express my acknowledgment for [their] gen-
erosity ; for it is generosity in my opinion. I am
not at all surprised at the sale diniinishing; my
extreme surprise is at the greatness of the sale.
No doubt the public has been shamefuUy im-
posed on! for they bought the book thinking
that it would be nice easy reading. I expect the
sale to stop soon in England, yet LyeU wrote to
me the other day that calling at Murray’s he

10 "Letters of Asa Gray,” II, 466. See^
also, "Life and Letters,” II, 64-66.

John Fiske, Edward Livingston Youmans
(New York, 1894), 111.

HOW DARWINISM CAME TO THE UNITED STATES 347

heard that fifty copies had gone in the previous
forty-eight hours.i>

The following statement, mentioned in
the above letter, was sent hy Appleton to
Gray; then forwarded to Darwin, who
returned it to Gray

Asa Gray for Mr. Darwin.

DARWIN

Statement of the Sale of Origin of Species’'
to May 1st, 1860.

On hand last account.

Printed Jan’y /60

1500

Peb’y /60

500

Mch /60

500

2500

1750 Sold, at 5% on

$1.25

On hand this date, 250

In hands of Booksollers, 300

550

Given away,

200

Sold to date.

1750

2500

= £22.

A review of the Appleton-Gray corre-
spondence at the Gray Herbarium showed
that Gray received a royalty of 10 per
cent, on the books they published for him
over the period from 1877 to 1885.*®
Darwin was eager for a second Ameri-
can edition, and that it should contain
important corrections— especially about
the ‘‘bear'* story:

In the first edition one reads on page 184:
*In North America the black bear was seen by
Eeame swimming for hours with widely open
month, thus catching, like a whale, insects in
the water, Riven in so extreme a case as this,
if a supply of insects were constant, and if better
adapted competitors did not already exist in the

Gray Oorrespondence, Gray Herbarium.
See, also, ^^Life and Letters,” II, 104; and
” Autobiography and Letters” (New York,
1808 ), 848 .

3teQray Ctorreq^dence, Gray Herbarium.
ioJM.

country, I can see no difficulty in a race of bears
being rendered, by natural selection, more and
more aquatic in their structure and habits, with
larger and larger mouths, tiU a creature was pro-
duced as monstrous as a whale.’ In a second
edition the whole second sentence of this quota-
tion was expunged, and in the first sentence a
qualifying * almost’ was inserted after * catch-
ing. ’*1

Appleton's attitude is revealed in this
unpublished letter :**

New Tobk, Peb. 17/60.

Prof, Asa Gray,

Dear Sir:

Your favor of 15th is at hand. We can’t say
what we can do respecting the notes and addi-
tions till we see them but we shall be anxious to
make our edition conform to any future Englis h
Edn.

You are under a mistake in supposing that
new matter unpublished in England secures a
copyright in this country if written by Mr.
Darwin — on the contrary if the entire work had
never been published in England and first ap-
peared here no copyright would hold in this
country as no one can hold a copyright here for
what he has written unless he be a citiaen of
the U. 8.

We proposed to ourselves to pay 5% on retail
price as suggested in your letter, as there is no
reason why a work without any legal rights,
should pay the same as one that is secured by
law. — ^We desire to act liberally altho’ we
printed the work after it had reached this coun-
try some little time; not having received even
early sheets which is usual when any payments
are made. We regret very much there is no pro-
tection to the foreign author, think it a mon-
strous shame, but we are obliged to take things
as they actually exist. — ^We are quite willing if
it would be agreeable to Mr. Darwin to send him
a check for 60 £ 8tg. and very likely that will
he as much as he could receive by the sales.

We remain,

Very respectfully,

D. Appleton & Clo.

The following letters suggest that the
Appleton Company were evidently an-
noyed with Darwin's requests for minor
changes:

Paul B. Victorius, ” A Sketch of the * Origin
of Bpecies’ ”: The Colophon, Original Series
(New York, 1982). The writer has been given
permission by Mr. Victorius to quote from this
article.

re Gray Herbarium, Cambridge Massachu-
setts.

348

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

On May 7, 1866, Gray wrote Darwin
regarding the new edition of the
Origin, saying that he had heard noth-
ing from the Appletons for years —
“the sale, I suppose, has gone on slowly,
but they have made no returns. ... I
will write to the Appletons asking them
in the first instance if they will bring it
out, and allow you the paltry 5% on
sales ; and if they decline I would arrange
with a Boston publisher, and have the
work brought out in a handsome form,
as a standard author.”

On July 3, of the same year. Gray
again wrote to Darwin :

I should have earlier replied to yours of 25
May. But the Appletons do not behave well.
I wrote them on receiving your letter, June 9.
They waited tUl 18th to reply, as enf^osed. I
wrote • . . urged the impracticability of alter-
ing the plates and your aversion to that, as that
would be unjust to you — said we wanted now a
neat and permanent library edition. —

No reply to that. But yesterday I wrote say-
ing I now had some sheets & asked ... if they
would object to my offering the sheets to some
other publisher.

1 think it likely they will play dog in the
manger — for which part they have advantages, —
as they might reprint your additions & issue,
with their old stereotype pages, without regard
to appearance or decency, & so spoil the venture
of any other publisher. At least the fear of it
might deter any other publisher. We shall soon
see if I do them injustice.

Gray, keeping Darwin posted as to
publication developments, wrote to him
twice during August, 1866— on the 7th
and the 27th. In the first of these letters
he said that “Appleton has, at my re-
quest, returned the sheets I had sent him.
As he persisted in the idea of making what
he called the essential alterations on hie
old stereotype plates, I thought that I
could not for any petty pecuniary advan-
tage, even connive at such doings.” On
the 27th, apparently disgusted with
Appleton’s methods, he wrote*.

I have yours of the 4th inst. . . . you rightly
infer that there is no hope at present for an
American reprint, unless you agree to fall in

with Appleton’s shabby ways— ^hkh I think
you will not be tempted to do.

But I am encouraged to think that I can make
a good arrangement with Messrs. Ticknor a
Fields, of Boston, to bring out the new book, a
allow Author 12%. I shaU confer with Mr.
Fields.**

The review of the evidence in regard
to the publishing of the “Origin of Spe-
cies” by Appleton indicates that they
paid Charles Darwin, through Asa Gray,
5 per cent, on the first edition, and not
the usual 10 per cent, royalty, as Fiske
stated. We have thus far been unable to
locate any documented statements dealing
with subsequent publications. However,
there is the letter quoted above, from
Appleton to Gray, and the postscript
added by Gray, suggesting that there had
been negotiations in reference to the pub-
lication of the second edition.

Asa Gray had forwarded Appleton’s
letter to Darwin, with this comment :

Feb. 20, 1860.

Mr Dbae Baewin:

I got this to-day. I send Appletons, now, the
sheets of ed. 2, and your additions appended in
their places. I promise the Historical Preface
next week, and I put it in their hands— trusting
to their promise of 5 [prints] and to their honor
for more if they are not molested by reprinters,
which we shall keep off. • « • The offer of cheek
for £50 — (which I might send to Mrs. Darwin
for pin-money, since you scorn it) tempts me, —
but I think it wiser to wait and hope for more.**

At the close of a letter to Gray, written
on September 25, 1860, Darwin added;
“P.S. — ^Please observe that if the Apple-
tons lose by the second Edition bardy
selling, I should prefse repasdng the
money they have paid me.”*® Appar-
ently the Appleton Company refused to
make a definite contract; and here the
evidence on what was paid Darwin as
royalty on the “Origin of Species”
closes.

This brief comparison of the first and

** These letters were copied from the originals
at the Gray Herbarium.

** Ibid.

*8 Ibid.

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTUBES

349

Bocond American editions lets the secret
out, and confirms Gray ’s fears :

The second American edition was published
during the summer of 1860. It appeared after
the second and before the third English edition.
This second American edition is of coxisiderable
bibliographic and scientific interest, because it
contains matter never before published. The
title-page describes it properly as ^A New Edi-
tion, IGtovised and Augmented by the Author.’
The edition contains a preface here first pub-
lished and a historical sketch. Although the sec-
ond American edition was published at a suffi-
cient interval after the second English edition
to include all the corrections and alterations that

appeared in the latter, one finds neverth^eii the
original bear stmry, which appears only in the
first and not in the second English.**

We know that Darwin, as he had an>
ticipated, was properly ridiculed and
“much abused” for his “bear” story,
which was carrying tiie influence of natn>
ral selection much too far. Of Harvey’s
criticism, he remarked that there wo^d
be: “no more difSculty than man has
found in increasing the crop of the
pigeon, by continued selection, until it is
literally as big as the whole rest of the
body.”*’**

THE NORMAL BURNING OF GASEOUS

EXPLOSIVE MIXTURES

II. ENGINE FLAMES. THEORIES AND APPLICATIONS

By Dr. ERNEST F. FIOCK

PHYSICIST, NATIONAL BUaSATJ OP BTANDAEDS

Flames in Engine Ctlindees

A TEXT-BOOK by Taylor and Taylor**
on “The Internal Combustion Engine,”
published in 1938, includes a biUiog-
raphy of about 540 references to reports
bearing on engine operation. Of these at
least one fifth are concerned primarily
with the combustion process and the
changes in this process which result
when the operating conditions are
varied. A brief review of such a broad
field is necessarily limited to generalities.
However, these may serve to illustrate
the trends which past research on com-
bustion in the engine cylinder has fol-
•lowed, as well as the complexity of the
problem, and to some extent, the present
state of otir knowledge of the burning
process.

It may not be amiss to enumerate,
first, the principal sources from which
published information on engine studies
may now be expeoted. Very little mate-

n a F. Taylor aad E. S. Taylor, “The Inter-
nal Oombvettoa Engine,” Seranton: Interna-
tional Text-book Oompany, 1988.

rial has appeared recently from the
larger European countries, since all in-
formation pertaining to engines is con-
sidered of military importance. The one
notable exception has been the research
division of the Royal Dutch Shell Cor-
poration. In this country the National
Advisory Committee for Aeronautics
sponsors a wide variety of combustion
research at Langley Memorial Aeronau-
tical Laboratory, at other government
laboratories and at several universities.
Some of our schools, such as Massachu-
setts Institute of Technology and Penn-
sylvania State College, are actively en-
gaged in engine research. Many other
universities have made contributions,
and the list may reasonably be expected
to increase rapidly under the stimulus

MYictorius, The Colcphm.

«T'‘More lietten of Ohartos Darwin,” Fran-
eis Darwin, editor (New York, 1908), 1, 102.

M The dlflloiilties of obtaining a eomplete ae-
eonnt of "How Darwinism came to the United
States” are doubtless evident to the reader.
Any eorreotions and additional faets will be
welcomed by the autlior.

350

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

of the current nation-wide emphasis on
aeronautics. Among the industries,
there have been notable contributions
from various producers of fuels and fuel
dopes, and of aeronautic and automotive
engines and accessories.

Studies of dame and combustion in
the engine cylinder generally require
that provision be made for observing
both the rise in pressure during an ex-
plosion and the progress of the flame.
As a result of the nature and behavior
of our common motor fuels, engine
studies are usually concerned, at least to
some extent, with detonation or knock,
which Boyd®* has aptly called ‘Uhe
cancer of engine combustion.” Since
the very rapid burning during knock is
accompanied by an exceedingly rapid
rise in pressure, the occurrence of knock
is clearly evident on both the pressure
and the flame records.

A brief discussion of pressure indi-
cators in general has been presented in
a previous section. Those suitable for
use in an engine cylinder must be sturdy
to withstand the repeated shocks of con-
tinuous operation and must be ade-
quately cooled. The design, theory and
applications of a number of indicators
which have been used with varying de-
grees of success are described in a book
by De Juhass®® on ^‘The Engine Indi-
cator.”

Flame travel in engine cylinders. The
progress of the flame has been observed
by using ionization gaps®^**®'*® pr through
windows which have varied in size from
small ones giving very local views of the

8>T. A. Boyd, 800. Automotive Sngineere
Jour,, 45 : 421-432, 1989.

J. De Juhasz, ''The Engine Indicator,’’
New York: Instruments Publishing Company,
1934.

ME. Schnauffer, Boo. Automotive Bngimeera
Jour., 34: 17-24, 1934.

Babezsana and S. Kalmar, Automotive
Industries, 72: 324-329, 854-857 and 894-897,
1935 ; ibid., 81 : 534-542 and 682-689, 1939.

M W. A. Mason and K. M. Brown, Automotive
Industries, 72: 582-584, 1985.

flame to cylinder heads made entirdy of
transparent material. Various strobo-
scopic devices, synchronized with the
engine, have been used in conjunction
with the windows to restrict the view to
a small fraction of each cycle. In most
cases, however, the travel of the flame
has been recorded on a moving flOlm,
either continuously or in the usual frame
by frame manner of the ordinary motion
picture camera.

Recently special cameras, in which
multiple lenses are rotated with the film,
have been developed. One of these, de-
scribed by Withrow and Rassweiler,®^
gives 5,000 photographs per second at
an engine speed of 2,000 rpm. Stated
in another way, this camera was used to
take 30 separate photographs of the en-
tire combustion chamber during the 72^
of crank angle embracing the ignition
and subsequent combustion of the
charge.

Flame pictures of knockless combus-
tion show that the progress of the flame
from ignition to complete inflammation
is continuous, and simultaneous pressure
records are correspondingly smooth and
free from any abrupt changes. Such
records also show®® that the flame speed
increases almost as fast as engine speed
and that the combustion process there-
fore transpires in roughly the same
number of degrees of crank rotation,
regardless of engine speed. A plausible
interpretation seems to be that the
amount of local turbulence in the charge
is approximately proportional to engine
speed. The more vigorous the mechani-
cal stirring of the gases in the neighbor-
hood of the flame front, the more rapid
is the mixing of burned, burning and
unbumed particles, so that the opportu*

S7 G. M. Bassweiler sad L. Withrow, Indust,
and Engineering Chem., 28: 672-677, 1986;
L. Withrow and 0. M. Bassweiler, 8 oe. Auto*
motive Engineers Jour., 89: 297-808, 1986.

MO. F. Marrin, A. Wharton and 0. H.
Boeder, Teehniedl Eeport No. SS$, Nat. Ad-
visory Oominittee for Aeronautics, 1986.

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTUBES

351

nity for fruitful collisions, and conse-
quently the flame speeds, increase. For
the same reason the turbulence which is
always present in an engine cylinder is
thought to account for the fact that, for
comparable explosive mixtures the speed
of flame in space is greater in the engine
than in bombs.

Most flame photographs, and particu-
larly those of the entire combustion
chamber, show both the irregular pattern
of the flame front produced by local
turbulence and general deviations from
symmetry of the whole flame, resulting
from mass motions of the entire un-
burned charge as induced during the
intake stroke.

The flame pictures taken after the
flame has traversed the entire charge
show the greatest luminosity in portions
which were burned flrst. There thus
appears to be a close relation between
the intensity of the actinic light and the
temperature of the burned gas, which
has also been shown to be highest in the
flrst part of the charge to bum.*® Ex-
perimental proof of the existence of
such a temperature gradient throughout
the burned gas in a bomb was flrst given
in 1906 by Hopkinson,*® later demon-
strated theoretically by Mache,*^ and
evaluated quantitatively for the specific
case of an osone-oxygen explosion by
Lewis and von Elbe.*®

Correlation of flame and pressure
records* Bassweiler, Withrow and Cor-
nelius*® have attempted to correlate
high-speed motion pictures with simul-

M. Bassweiler and L. VS^ithrow, 800*
Automotivs Engineers Jour*, 80: 120-133, 1935*

40 B. Hopkinson, Free* of the Eoyol 8oe* of
London, A77: 887-418, 1906.

01 H« Maehe, **Die Phyaik der Verbrennungs-
ersoheinti]ig«&.’' Leipsig: Veit and Company,
1918.

MB. Lewis and G. von Elbe, Jour* Chemical
Fhgsies, 2: 537-646, 1934.

0*0. M. Bassw^fi L. Withrow and W.
Oomeliiis, 800* Automotive Engineers Jour*, 46 :
95-48, 1940.

taneous pressure records, giving special
attention to the effects of changing the
mixture ratio, spark position and throt-
tle opening. Tto analysis leads to the
conclusion that both the fraction of the
volume and the fraction of the toaim of
charge which is inflamed at any instant
can be computed from the pressure rec-
ord alone, with an accuracy which is
comparable with that of calculations
based on combustion chamber dimensions
and flame photographs.

Knocking combustion. In the case of
combustion under knocking conditions,
both the flame and the pressing records
are similar to those under non-knocking
conditions during the initial stages of the
burning. Then, depending upon the
composition of the explosive mixture and
the operating conditions, there appears
a sudden change in the nature of the
flame photographs and in the pressure
within the cylinder. Both these changes
indicate an enormous increase in the rate
of combustion, accompanied by vibratory
motions within the gases, which, in turn,
are transmitted to and through the walls
of the combustion chamber and thence
to the surrounding atmosphere in the
form of audible sound waves, from which
the knock derives its name.

The vibrations within the cylinder
also cause vibration of the moving parts
of the pressure indicator, so that the
pressure records of a knocking combus-
tion show, first, a sudden increase in the
rate of pressure rise, followed by an in-
terval of periodic fluctuations having
gradually decreasing amplitudes. It has
been shown^ that the frequency of the
waves in the flame photographs corre-
sponds with the frequency of the vibra-
tions on the pressure record. Further it
has been shown that the frequency of the
pressure waves within the cylinder is the
same as the frequency of the audible

ML. Withrow and O. M. Bsanreller, AutO’
fnoiite Snpineer, 24 : 281-484, 1284.

352

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

soand outside the engine.** The ob>
served frequencies varied from 8,000 to
6,000 cycles per second, depending upon
the dimensions of the combustion cham-
ber and the temperature of the burned
gas.

Because of the extreme rapidity of the
burning after the knock has begun, only
fame records taken at very high film
speeds show that the subsequent inflam-
mation of the charge does not take place
simultaneously throughout all the re-
maining unbumed gas. Withrow and
Bassweiler** interpret their photographs
to mean that auto-ignition occurs at a
point ahead of and well separated from
the flame, without much change in the
form and position of the original, nor-
mal flame front. They conclude that
perhaps in all knocking explosions, the
knock is definitely not a result of a sud-
den increase in the velocity of the ad-
vancing flame.” From other original
photographs, Rothrock and Spencer*^
are led to the belief that “although auto-
ignition ahead of the flame front may
occur in conjunction with severe knock,
probably it is not necessary nor does it
always occur with knock.” The latter
authors also see evidence in their pic-
tures that reaction is not completed in
the flame front and suggest that in some
cases knock may occur in the burned gas
as a result of the sudden liberation of
the energy remaining after the initial
passage of the flame.

Stansfield and Thole*' suggest that
three types of detonation may be possi-
ble, namely, true knock, auto-ignition,
and pre-ignition, while Boerlage and his

C. E. Griiutead, Jow. AtronmAieol
Seienees, 6: 412-417, 1030.

M. BoMwoUer and L. Withrow, op. oit.
in reference 37.

A. M. Bothrock and B. 0. Spencer, Took-
nieal Beport No. est, Nat. Adviaorjr Committee
for Aeronautics, 1038.

** B. Stansfield and F. B. Thole, Engineering,
130: 468-470 and 612-614, 1030.

eo-workers** distinguish between “pink-
ing” and knocking. It is hoped that
photographs of knocking combustion
taken at still higher speeds may soon be
available to answer some of the out-
standing questions concerning the pl^nri-
cal nature of the very rapid burning.

Badiation from engine flames. Other
important information b^s been ob-
tained by observations through windows
opening into the combustion ehamber.
Among such studies may be mentioned
various attempts to determine the radia-
tion characteristics of both burned and
unbumed gas and the movements of the
gases by schlieren photography.

In 1924, Midgley and McCart)^'
studied the relative effects of various
operating conditions upon the total
energy radiated from the combustion
chamber through a quarts window and
the slot of a timing stroboscope, by
measuring the current output of a ther-
mopile upon which the radiation was
focused. The results for a given fuel
showed that the mixture proportioned to
give maximum power radiated the most
energy, whether there was knock or not,
and that, for a given piston position,
energy was radiated at a greater rate
during a knocking than a non-knocking
combustion.

More detailed information concerning
the mechanism of the processes in prog-
ress prior to the arrival of the flame and
at all stages subsequent to the passage
of the flame front has been obtained by
studying both the absorption and emis-
sion spectra. Spectroscopes have been
used in the ultra-violet and visible
ranges, and the spectral distributioB in
the infrared was studied by the use of

4*G. D. Boerlage and W. J. B. van Djrck,
Jowr. Boyal Aeronantiodl Boo., 38 : 963-486,
1034; Q. B. Boerlage, J. J. Broeae, H. van Brld
and L. A. Peletier, Engineering, 148: 864-866,
1987.

T. Midgl^ and E. H. MeOarty, Boo. Auto-
motive Engineers Jour., 14: 188-186, 1984.

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTURES

353

appropriate filters. There is space for
but a brief r4Bum4 of the conclusions
from such studies.

Nearly all the energy radiated by the
flame in an engine is in the infrared,*^
and apparently arises from the forma-
tion of HaO and COa- In a normal com-
bustion, radiation from these two com-
pounds begins upon the arrival of the
flame front and continues for some time
thereafter, thus pointing to continued
reaction. The duration of the continued
reaction is much shorter when knock oc-
curs. Although there is a great varia-
tion in the total energy radiated during
a single cycle and under different operat-
ing conditions, the spectral distribution
shows only small changes over a wide
range of these conditions. The signifi-
cance of the observed changes in distri-
bution is not known.

The research groups of the General
Motors Corporation have made valuable
contributions”* concerning both absorp-
tion and emission spectra. Among these
reports the following conclusions may be
found.

The absorption spectra of the un-
bumed charge in that part of the com-
bustion chamber where knock occurs
show that formaldehyde is alwajrs pres-
ent under knocking conditions. This
compound is also found in the absence
of knock, but its formation may be
avoided by changing the operating con-
ditions so as to reduce sufficiently the
tendency to knock. The addition of
tetraethyl lead does not affect the con-
centration of formaldehyde appreciably,
while addition of enough aniline to sup-
press knock completely, decreases the
formaldehyde concentration. The for-
maldehyde bands disappear when knock

0. T. ICarvia, 7. B. OaldweU and 8. Steele,
Ttehnieai Beport Ko. 489, Katioiud Advisory
OoBuaittee for Aeroaauties, 1984.

SSL. Withrow aad O. H. Basiweiler, Indast.
and MngitueHitg 088-981 and 1809-

1860, 1988 j <MI., 80! 1806-1861, 1984.

is stopped by increasing the concentra-
tion of fuel in the explosive mixture or
by retarding the spark. Formaldehyde
introduced with the intake air did not
induce knock, even though a portion was
shown to remain intact until the time
of knock. Many other absorption bands
are present prior to knock, but the mole-
cules responsible for them have not been
identified.

The emission spectra observed when
hydrocarbons are burned either in a
burner or in an engine cylinder show
the characteristic bands of CH and C 2 .
However these bands are absent in the
region behind the fiame front, suggest-
ing that the breakdown of the hydrocar-
bon is completed in the flame front.
This does not necessarily mean, however,
that the formation of H 2 O and CO 2 pro-
ceeds to equilibrium in the front. Bands
of OH radicals were found in the ultra-
violet for both the flame front and the
afterglow, and bands of HCO, while
present in the front, are entirely absent
in the afterglow.

In the knocking zone the intensity of
the CH and Ca bands was much lower
in the knocking than in non-knocking
explosions. Thus it is suggested that
the hydrocarbon may be at least partly
broken down by preflame reactions prior
to the inception of knock. When tetra-
ethyl lead was used to prevent knock,
the intensity of the CH and Ca bands
increased, suggesting that the lead may
inhibit preflame decomposition of the
fuel.

Application of the spectral line re-
versal method of measuring the tempera-
tures attained during explosions in the
engine cylinder^* shows that, after in-
flammation is complete, the temperature
difference in the cylinder may exceed
800^ C. When knock is present higher
temperatures are reached earlier in the

<^>0. M. BssiweSler sad L. Withrow, op. oft.
hi referenoe 89.

354

THE SOIENTIFIO MONTHLY

the subsequent rate of cooling is
greater, and the exhaust temperatures
are lower. It is of interest to note in
passing that the maximum temperature
observed in an engine with a compression
ratio of only 4.4 : 1 exceeded 2,500® C.,
more than 1,000® G. above the melting
point of the material constituting the
combustion chamber.

Combustion in compression-ignition
engines. Studies of combustion in the
cylinders of compression-ignition en-
gines are in general more complicated
and not so far advanced as those in the
more common spark-ignition type. The
additional complications arise in connec-
tion with the injection of the fuel, its
mixing with the previously compressed
air and the auto-ignition of the resulting
mixture.

Since ignition starts, not at a selected
point, but in whatever place or places
the necessary conditions of temperature
and composition are first attained, the
rate at which combustion proceeds must
depend to a greater extent upon the state
and distribution of the fuel than upon
such characteristics of the mixture as
transformation velocity and expansion
ratio.

It is beyond the scope of this review
to discuss the progress which has been
made in studying the processes of fuel
injection and mixing. This has already
been done in Chapter 7 of * * The Internal
Combustion Engine, in which the
original reports are also mentioned.

Other practical problem^ which must
be solved to insure the satisfactory oper-
ation of a compression-ignition engine
again involve control of the combustion
process. Actually in this case control
must be exercised over two closely re-
lated processes.

The first of these involves the delay
period between the start of injection and
the start of combustion, while the second
involves the control of knocking after
C. P. Tajlor and E. 8. Taylor, op. oit.

ignition has occurred. Since the delay
period is not greatly affected by such
factors as fineness of the fuel spray or
the volatility of the fuel, but instead is
largely dependent upon the temperature
and pressure prevailing during the early
part of the injection process, as well as
upon the chemical characteristics of the
fuel, it seems probable that during this
period the fuel undergoes chemical
changes producing materials which auto-
ignite more readily than the original
fuel. If the delay period is long there
is greater chance for such materials to
accumulate, so that auto-ignition may
subsequently take place simultaneously
at a great many places throughout the
combustion chamber. Such conditions
closely parallel those which exist in a
spark-ignition engine just prior to
knock. It therefore becomes apparent
that a short delay period is of great im-
portance if excessive rates of pressure
rise are to be avoided.

The control of knock in compression-
ignition engines is thus largely a ques-
tion of controlling the delay period.
This period, and also the tendency to
knock, may be decreased by increasing
the compression ratio, inlet air tempera-
ture, the initial pressure of the air in
the cylinder (as by supercharging) and
the temperature of the combustion
chamber walls where the jet of fuel tends
to impinge.

Theorieb of Flame Propagation

There have been numerous attempts
to derive, from theoretical considera-
tions, an equation by which transfor-
mation velocity can be calculated
from known thermal properties of
the burned and unbumed mix-
tures. The earliest of these, proposed
by Mallard and Le Chatelier,^* was based
on the primary assumption that heat
from the flame was conducted to the ad*

E. Mallard sad H. L. Le Ohatdier,
AwmAbs de$ Mines, 4 : 274, 1888.

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTURES

355

jacent unburaed gas until its tempera-
ture was raised to the ^'ignition
temperature,*^ when it in turn became
inflamed. Subsequently this theory was
modified and extended by Jouguet,”^
Nusselt,®^ Daniell,®® and others, each
treatment retaining the assumption that
the gas to be burned must be first raised
to its “ignition temperature** by direct
conduction of heat from the flame.

More recently Lewis and von Elbe®®
proposed that “flame propagation is
governed by diffusion of active atoms
and radicals into the unburned mixture,
which gives rise to chemical reaction
there in a far more efficient way than
would be possible purely by heat trans-
fer.** The working hypothesis of this
theory is that “the sum of the thermal
and chemical energy per unit mass in
any elementary layer between the un-
bumed and burned phases remains
sensibly constant.’* A solution of the
problem along these more complicated
lines, involving both reaction kinetics
and heat transfer, is at present possible
only when other daring approximations
are made. Such a solution has been
made for the particular case of explo-
sions in osone-oxygen mixtures, where
the calculated values of transformation
velocity are of the same order of mag-
nitude as the experimental values. In
addition the analysis provides informa-
tion as to the structure of the reaction
jsone, that is as to the gradients of tem-
perature, concentration, and reaction
rate. The calculated thickness of the
reaction sone is of the order 10'* to 10'®
cm.

E. Jouguet, C<mpt 0 i Bendui, 156 : 872-875,
1918$ ibid., 168; 820-822, 1919$ ibid., 179:
454-457, 1924.

97 W. Nusselt, ZeiUehtifi des Vereines
D§uUehe8 Inpenieure, 59: 872-478, 1915.

99 P. J. Daniell, Proe. Eoyai Bee. of Londm,
A126 : 898-405, 1980.

99 B. Lewis sad G* von Elbe, ^^Oombustion
Vltmm aadf Explosions of Gases,” pp. 211-219.
Londons Oambridge Univeffity Press, 1988.

None of the theoretical treatments of
flame propagation may be considered
adequate for the calculation of usable
values of transformation velocity. Thu
is not surprising in a problem of such
complexity, since some of the compli-
cating features may not yet have been
discovered and since others are poorly
understood. As examples, the kinetics
of the reactions are in many cases ob-
scure, and the question of the continued
evolution of energy within the flame
front is still in dispute.

In addition to the above mentioned
attempts to derive theoretical expres-
sions for transformation velocity, there
have been efforts to formulate certain
“laws of flame speeds” of an empirical
nature, based on available experimental
data. Among these may be mentioned
the suggestions of Payman and Wheeler*®
and of Stevens.*^ The former stated that
“given two or more mixtures of air or
oxygen with different individual gases,
in each of which the speed of propaga-
tion is the same, all combinations of
mixtures of the same type, that is all con-
taining excess of oxygen, or all con-
taining excess of combustible gas, propa-
gate flame at the same speeds, under the
same conditions of experiment.” In
later interpretations the proponents of
this “law” elaborated upon it by stating
that “any addition of incombustible gas,
inflammable gas or oxygen to a mixture
of inflammable gas and oxygen in com-
bining proportions has a retarding effect
upon the speed of uniform movement of
flame proportional to its specific heat’*
and that “the time taken for pressure
within a spherical vessel to attain its
maximum . . . coincides with the time
taken for flame to reach the boundary
of the vessel, except in very slowly mov-
ing flames.”

•oW. Payman and B. V. Wbeeler, Tranoao-
tioM of the Chemical Society, 121: 368-479,
1928.

91 F. W. Stevens, Teohniotd Beport No, 176,
Nat Advisory Oommittee for Aeronautics, 1928.

356

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Bone and Townend** object that the
‘‘law’’ and its corollaries imply that com-
bustion is complete in the flame front and
that either dissociation does not affect
flame speed or that the degree of disso-
ciation is unaffected by dilution -with
inert gas or excess of one reactant. They
present data for mixtures of hydrocar-
bons, hydrogen and oxygen which ap-
pear to deviate from the “law” and
state that “whatever measure of truth
there may be in Payman and Wheeler’s
conclusions in regard to particular in-
stances, they are not generally appli-
cable to gaseous explosions, and there-
fore can not be vested with the authority
of a natural law.”

As a result of all of his work with
gaseous explosions Stevens concluded
that, within the limits of his experimen-
tal error, the transformation velocity
was directly proportional to the mass
action product of the active constituents
in the original mixture. More recent
determinations by the bubble method,**
yielding values of St believed to be of
higher accuracy, show much larger de-
partures from t^ relation than did the
results of Stevens. It therefore appears
that the relation is an approximation
which fails to take account of at least
some of the factors which influence
transformation velocity. One of its
most apparent shortcomings is that it
yields a maximum value of St at exact
chemical equivalence, vdiile the observed
maximum always occurs in the presmce
of some excess of fuel.'

A great many experimental studies
have been made of the molecular kinetics
of reactions between gaseous fuels and
oxygen. Many of the results of such
studies may be explained on the basis
of the theory of chain reactions. A

W. A. Bone and B. T. A. Townend, "Flame
and Oombuetion in Oases," London; Longmansy
Green and Company, 1027.

•SB. F. Fioek and 0. H. Boeder, Teehnioat
Seport No. 6St, Nat. Advisory Ooinmittee for
Aeronanties, 1085.

chain reaction is one in which one kind
of active atom or radical, called a chain
carrier, effects the formatibn of a large
number of product molecules due to its
regeneration. Thus the complete pic-
ture on a molecular scale of the reaction
of fuel and oxygen can be represented
in detul only by a group of chemical
equations, many of which yield products
which are so active and so short lived
that they are not found at all in the
flnal products of the reaction, and there-
fore do not need to appear in the stoichi-
ometric equation representing the over-
all reaction.

The progress which has been made
with the chain theory of reactions is
reviewed by Lewis and von Elbe** in
the flrst four chapters of their book.
Such treatment deals largely with spe-
cific instances, which are too numerous
to recount here. Despite the fact that
real progress has been made, it seems at
present that much additional evidence
is needed to establirii a comprehensive
picture of oxidation on a molecular
scale.

It is hoped that the present lack of
generally applicable postulates concern-
ing the mechanism and rate of gaseous
explosive reactions has been sufiSciently
emphasized in the material which has
been preesnted. Such a situation has
doubtless hampered, but by no means
prevented progress in technical applica-
tions of the combustion process.

Sous Tsohnioal Applioations <hp

CoMBUBnON BbSBABOB

Most of the applications of combus-
tion .research have been referred to,
either directly or by implication, in pre-
vious sections of this report. One im-
portant group of these is concerned with
the prevention of unwanted explosioi^
with a view to the reduction of aedden-
tal hazards in mines and in industry.

M B. Lewis sad 0. von Blbe, op. oil. la letas
anee 52.

GASEOUS EXPLOSIVE MIXTURES

357

Other general applications of gaseous
ezplosiTe reactions occur in domestic
and industrial heating devices and in
intemal*oombnBtion engines.

Since the earliest progress was made
in the field of safety, it is logical to begin
with the applications in this field. Prob-
ably the surest way to prevent an explo-
sion is to so control the concentration of
fuel in the atmosphere that the resulting
mixture never becomes combustible. A
first step in such a process is obviously
the determination of the limits of fiam-
mability. Once these and the possible
rates of formation of gaseous fuel are
known, it is usually a routine problem
for the ventilation engineer to avoid the
formation of a combustible mixture.

In many instances, such as arise in the
handling and storage of flammable
liquids, it is not practicable to avoid at
aU times the formation of explosive mix-
tures. It then becomes desirable to re-
duce the chance of accidental ignition to
a minimum. That this effort has not
always been successful is illustrated by
such well known disasters as those which
destroyed the stratosphere balloon Ex-
plorer I, and the Zeppelin Hindenburg,
and that which recently damaged an oil
tanker in dock on the east coast.

The invention of the Davy safety lamp
has already been mentioned. By merely
inserting a wire gauze between the flame
of the lamp and the explosive mixture
which often occurred in poorly ven-
tilated mines, this device in effect re-
moved an ever-present source of igni-
tion. It is of course impossible to make
any reasonable estimate of the number
of mine explosions which have been
averted by the use of the safety lamp, or
of the number of lives which would have
been lost without it.

Flame traps of varioim sorts, oper-
ating on the same general principle as
the safety lamp, have been used to pre-
vent the travel of flame along pipes and
tubes which convey explosive mixtures

or which might accidentally become
filled with such mixtures.

In the absence of all external sonzees
of ignition, it is also important to know
whether or not there is a possibilily of
spontaneous ignition in the vapor phase
adjacent to a flammable liquid. There-
fore many attempts have been made to
determine, experimentally, the lowest
temperatures at which such mixtures
will burst into flame. However, as pre-
viously stated, the experimental meth-
ods have been more satisfactory for
comparative than for absolute results.
It may be that in both the experimental
and practical cases some such factor as
surface condition may be of controlling
importance, and that an explosion in a
particular tank might result from spon-
taneous ignition when the temperature
of the surroundings was lower than any
which had produced ignition of the same
explosive mixture in other containers.

The large number of applications of
gaseous explosive reactions for the di-
rect production of heat are so familiar
that enumeration would be entirely
superfluous. The problems involved are
those of the stationary flame. More spe-
cifically these problems are concerned
with the relation of flame and burner,
that is with the matching of the flame
and burner to the requirements of the
application.

Diffusion flames, in whi<fli the rate of
liberation of energy is limited by the
speed of mixing of the fuel and oxygen,
produce less Wt per unit area than
Bunsen-type flames consuming fuel at
the same rate. Flame speeds play such
a minor part in determining the shape
and behavior of the diffusion flame that
they need scarcely be considered in con-
nection with such flames.

On the other hand, in burners in
which the fuel and oxygen or air are
pre-mixed, the transformation vehxnty
is of primary importance, since it fixes
the limits over which the rate of &w

358

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

of the explosive mixture through a given
port can be varied without blow ojff or
flash back. Most appliances using gas
flames provide for variation in the ratio
of fuel to oxygen as well as in the ve-
locity of the mixture. Since transfor-
mation velocity decreases as the com-
position is varied in either direction
from the optimum, the limits of stable
operation are rapidly narrowed by such
changes in the mixture ratio. Thus
knowledge of the transformation ve-
locity and its variation with composition
is highly desirable in any attempt at
burner design.

A more complete discussion of the
problems of stationary flames has been
presented by Smith,®* and further elab-
oration is not necessary here.

The application of the gaseous explo-
sive reaction as a source of power in
internal combustion engines has had the
most profound effect upon the life of
every one, particularly in this country.
Past, as well as future efforts have been
A. Smith, Chem, Beviews, 21: 389-412,

1987.

and logically should be concentrated
upon more efficient control and use of
the combustion process. At present
there is considerable emphasis on the
search for new fuels having less ten-
dency to knock than those commonly
available.

CONOLUBION

From what has been presented, it is
probably apparent that a vast amount
of painstaking research has been done
in the fleld of combustion. Yet it may
truthfully be said that not a great deal
is actually known of the highly complex
mechanism, on a molecular scale, by
which the chemical energy latent in the
fuel is converted into usable mechanical
energy. This does not mean, however,
that past efforts have been futile, or that
small progress has been made. Bather,
it seems to indicate either that no mind
capable of fitting the great number of
isolated bits of information together to
form a comprehensive whole has yet
appeared, or that some important fac-
tors have so far been overlooked entirely.

OBSERVATION AND EXPERIMENT

Of the infinite variety of phenomena which
appeal to our senses, some, like those of sidereal
astronomy, are subject, in the main, to observa-
tion only; while others, like those of terrestrial
physics, chemistry and biology, are subject to
both observation and experiment. All phenom-
ena are more or less entangled. They point
backward and forward in time,** any one of them
appears and disappears only in connection with
others; and the record any one of them leaves
is known only by its interaction with others.
Out of this plexus of relations and interrelations
it is the business of science to discover the con-
ditions of occurrence and the laws of continuity.
Happily for man, although the ultimate com-
plexity of phenomena is everywhere very great,
it is frequently possible to trace out these laws.
But the results wo roach are essentially first
approximations, depending, in general, on the

extent to which we may ignore other phenomena
than those specially considered. In fact, a first
step towards the solution of a problem in science
consists in determining how much of the uni-
verse may be safely left out of account. Thus
the method of approximating to a knowledge
of the laws of nature is somewhat like the
method of infinite series so much used by mathe-
maticians in numerical calculations; and as it is
a condition of success in the use of such series
that they be convergent rather than divergent,
so is it an essential of scientific sanity that the
mind be restricted by observed facts rather than
diverted by pleasing fancies . — Professor B. 8.
Woodward, president of the American Assoeia^
tion for the Advancement of Science, speaking
before the New York Academy of Soienoes, Feh*
ruary 86, 1901.

INHERITANCE OF MENTAL DEFECT

By Dr. L. S. PENROSE

THX ONTARIO HOSPITAL, LONDON, ONTARIO, CANADA

Mental abnormalities in man are con- biological reasons for the separation of
veniently divided into two classes, defect severe and mild cases. The upper limit
and disorder. The distinction between of the high-grade group merges into the
lunacy and idiocy, though not entirely general population; physically, most
free from theoretical difficulty, is of morons are not distingui^able from the
great practical value and has been recog- normal, though some are short in stature
nized since medieval times. An idiot is and subnormal in head size. The major-
a person in whom mental powers are so ity of them live their whole lives without
impaired from birth or an early age that being noticed as unusual. Those who are
he never is able to take his place as a poorly adjusted or who, in addition to
member of ordinary society. He is not defect, suffer from mental disorder gen-
capable of learning the necessary reac- erally become social failures in child-
tion patterns even to defend himself hood, adolescence or later and require
against common dangers. This situation institutional training and care. From
is different entirely from that of a person the biological point of view morons are
who, for many years, participates in the quite well fitted to survive, provided
normal life of the community but who their surroundings do not require the
breaks down in health and becomes in- exercise of fine degrees of discrimination,
capacitated mentally. Notwithstanding, They are able to produce families, or as
the mental level reached in severe some eugenists have expressed it, they
chronic cases of mental disorder some- can “proliferate’^ — ^people more gener-
times approximates to the level of idiocy, ously endowed with ability and self-

The exact definition of what consti- esteem are said to “breed.” The low-
tutes mental defect in the modern sense grade cases are, on the other hand,
is made difficult by disagreements in almost completely infertile; at an early
terminology but, for general purposes, age it becomes obvious that they can not
it is possible to speak of two main groups, take part in the ordinary life of the com-
The low grade, or severe cases, include munity. They lack all initiative, and
those who are ineducable or only par- are very often physically malformed and
tially educable by special training and unattractive to the casual observer,
who are now known as idiots and imbe- Their infertility is, for the most part,
ciles. Within these limits imbeciles are, due to their incapacity to find a mate,
by definition, more intelligent than While discussing this aspect of the sub-
idiots. The incidence of severe defect in ject it is well to point out that the fertil-
the general population is estimated to be ity of high-grade defectives is often
not less than one in four hundred. The restricted probably for the same reasons
high grade, or mild cases, are those who — lack of initiative and unattractiveness,
are educable, but lag behind the rest of The solution found by some of them is to
the class at school. This group is con- unite with one another, often without
sidered to comprise about one per cent, regard for the niceties of prevalent codes
of the general population and is made up of morals. In this way clans have been
of morons and “borderline” cases. founded in which the lack of intelligence

There are medical, sociological and coupled with fertility has attracted much

359

360

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

attention from sociologists. Enthusiasm
for schemes directed towards eliminating
such groups as these from the population
is now not as great as it was a decade ago.
The schemes for sterilizing a few selected
cases or even all certified cases can not
be expected to cause an appreciable re-
duction in the magnitude of the social
problems due to the existence of these
sub-cultural clans, at least within a cen-
tury or two. People in several countries
are now wondering whether before that
time the defectives (and every one else)
may not have been exterminated by
bombs ; alternatively, they hope that
their defectives will survive so that as
many of them as possible can be trained
to supplement their man power. Never-
theless, it is a matter of great interest to
medical science to know how mentally
defective individuals of all kinds origi-
nate.

Adverse factors in the environment,
which operate at any time after a child
is bom, are responsible for mental im-
pairment in a certain number of eases.
Some of these environmental factors are
more often operative in the high-grade
and others in the low-grade group.
They must be appreciated before the
hereditary factors can be intelligently
discussed. If injury or disease affects
the brain of an infant so that its subse-
quent development is impaired, defect
may result but, in the opinion of most
observers, no great proportion of the
total number of cases of mental defect
can be attributed to such ifccidents. A
few cases of defect, usually severe, and
associated with paralysis of one side or
other of the body, are undoubtedly due
to injury at birth. It is, however, incor-
rect to assume that injury at birth is a
major factor in the production of mental
deficiency. On the other hand, there is
evidence that in the period before birth
environment is by no means constant
for every child, though detailed knowl-
edge of the means whereby intra-uterine

influences affefd; mental development is
limited. In medicine it has been usual
to speak of lues (qrphilis) as capable of
hereditary transmission but this, of
course, is a misuse of terms. The infec-
tion can be transmitted from mother to
child before the child’s birth, and in this
way damage may be caused to the brain
of the child, sufficient to impair seriously
its subsequent mental capacity. It has
been estimated that from 1 to 5 per cent,
of institutional cases of mental defect
are, at least partly, due to congenital
lues.

A somewhat more frequent group of
cases also owes its origin in a large mea-
sure to prenatal environment but in
quite a different way. These patients
are called ‘’mongols” because Langdon
Down, who first drew attention to the
group, thought that they resembled
Chinese children. Actually such cases
have been distinguished among Asiatic
populations and in almost every country
in the world. The appearance of slant-
ing eyes, which these children sometimes
show, is only one of a great number of
characters which, when taken together,
indicate a retardation of development,
both of the brain and the rest of the
body, at any early foetal stage. The
most important factor in the origin of
the *’mongol” type of imbecile is asso-
ciated with the age of the mother at the
time of pregnancy. The affected child
is often found to be the last bom in a
large family, but the cause is not depen-
dent upon materaal exhaustion through
too frequent child bearing— it depends
upon maternal age alone. The risk of a
woman’s giving birth to a **mongol”
child is approximately doubled every
five years iffter she reaves the age of 25.
Half the cases are bom to mothers who
are more than 87 years of age. The
father’s age does not seem to matter at
all. There are also other abnormalities
of development of the nervous eystem in
which the cause is associated with the

INHERITANCE OF MENTAL DEFECT

361

age of the mother though in a lesser
degree than is the ease in mongolism. In
some of these conditions the chance of
the first-born child’s being abnormal is
slightly greater than the chance of ab-
normality in the children bom after-
wards to the same parents. Recently the
investigations of Murphy have also
shown that therapeutic doses of x-rays
given to a motlier during pregnancy in-
crease the risk of her giving birth to a
malformed child.

The external influences which are sig-
nificant in the severely affected group
belong to the field of medicine. The
influences of social environment, how-
ever, are significant in relation to the
mild cases. Intelligence probably can
not be altered by education, but certi-
fiability and necessity for institutionali-
zation depend very much upon training.
The high-grade cases — the morons — are
abnormal chiefly because they arc unable
to be good citizens. Those of the worst
characters and habits are the most likely
to be certified. Scarcely one tenth of the
number of morons who actually exist in
the population are to be found in institu-
tions, even in those communities where
mental health is most assiduously looked
after. Intelligence, like stature, is
graded and there is not a natural cleft
between the normal intelligent person
and the moron; consequently, the line
between the two has to be drawn arbi-
trarily. Its position depends upon a
delicate balance between individual abil-
ity and the reaction of the individual to
the demands of the social environment
in which he finds himself.

The true hereditary factors which
cause mental defect are determined at
conception, and their effects become
manifest at any time during the early
life of the individual. The family his-
tory in eases of severe defect usually
differs in a number of wiya from the
family history in the mild cases because
the hereditary mechanisms which act in

the two types of cases are probably dif-
ferent It will be convenient first to
discuss the low-grade eases. Here the
parents are, as a rule, normal physically
and mentally; so, also, are the majority
of the patients’ brothers and sistera.
Occasionally two or more idiots or imbe-
ciles are bom to normal parents, but this
is exceptional. If one child affected in
this way has been bom, and if the par-
ents are both normal, the chance that
another child will be affected is less than
3 per cent.^ This prognostication pre-
supposes that the exact nature of this
defect is unknown, for there are a num-
ber of specific diseases which cause
low-grade defect and which behave as
Mendelian recessive characters. If a
recessive condition is diagnosed, the
chance, that brothers and sisters of the
affected child will suffer from the same
condition, is 25 per cent, in the usual
case, where the parents are both unaf-
fected.

Some of the recessive diseases which
cause imbecility or idiocy are of great
medical and biological interest to those
people who are lucky enough not to be
affected themselves. Two forms are
known of a progressive, degenerative
condition which causes children, though
at birth they appear healthy, to become
blind and paralyzed idiots either in
infancy or during school age. These
illnesses are, fortunately, extremely un-
common. The infantile form is practi-
cally only found in Jewish populations.
Naturally, no affected person ever has
children of his own. The family history
often shows the characteristic picture of
a rare recessive disease, i.e., parents nor-
mal, and related to one another by con-
sanguinity, with one or more affected
children and also some perfectly normal
children. Another very interesting re-
cessive disease, which causes gross men-
tal retardation, but which is not progres-
sive, was identified in Norway a few

< Xuffeniei S«vie», p. > 8 , 1989 .

362

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

years ago by a biochemist^ Foiling. He
found that a substance, phenylpyruvic
acid, vras always present in the urines
of certain imbeciles; in the normal per-
son this substance is not excreted at all,
possibly because it is utilized in the
functioning of the brain. The disease
seems to be more widely spread in Nor-
way than in some other countries,
though cases have been described in
England, Scotland and France. In the
United States many cases have been
found, but only a small number of
them have Norwegian ancestry. Other
important recessively determined types
of mental defect are associated with
symmetrical paralysis of both sides of
the body from birth or any early age.
These cases of “cerebral diplegia, “ or
Little’s disease, are sometimes ascribed
erroneously to birth injury. Normally
the condition is not progressive. There
is a variety of types, and it is certain
that some of them are recessive char-
acters. There are also many more con-
ditions inherited in the same way and
often associated with severe mental im-
pairment. Among these are some types
of cretinism, deafmutism, congenital eye
defects and extreme underdevelopment
of the brain (microcephaly). Cases of
severe mental defect, which are genetic
in origin and yet are not due to recessive
factors, form another group. Their oc-
currence is, for the most part, sporadic ;
that is to say, they occur. unexpectedly
in normal families. One curious disease,
in which the brain is malformed in a
manner which, according to the patholo-
gists, resembles potato roots (tuberose
sclerosis) and in which tumors develop
on the skin and in other parts of the
body, often causes severe mental im-
pairment and epilepsy. A fairly large
proportion of these cases is sporadic. In
some instances, however, usually when
the patient is not severely affected, an-
other member of the family, perhaps a
parent, suffers from the same condition.

The explanation is probably that tube-
rose sclerosis is due to a single dominant
gene mutation. The assortment of ab-
normal characters produced by a fresh
mutation of this gene gives rise to a con-
dition so serious that an affected person
is unlikely to have any children and,
thus, does not usually transmit the ab-
normalities to the next generation.
From a knowledge of the frequency of
occurrence of cases of defects due to
fresh mutation, the mutation rates of
certain genes in man have been esti-
mated. If the length of life of man, as
compared with that of the fly, is taken
into consideration, the mutation rate is
found to be of the same order of mag-
nitude in both species.^

An important group of low-grade
cases, which already has been referred
to, includes the mongolian imbeciles and
a large variety of severe types of con-
genital malformation. The signiflcance
of maternal age in relation to these con-
ditions, has already been mentioned;
probably this association denotes a con-
tributory cause which enables an under-
lying disposition to become manifest.
The nature of the underlying disposition
can, at present, only be surmised. The
experimental work of Snell and others,
on malformations of the nervous system
in mice, suggests that in those animals
derangement of the normal chromosome
pattern may be a cause of such defects.
The same kinds of peculiarities quite con-
ceivably can occur in chromosomes of
man. They might be expected to cause
severe abnormalities with familial inci-
dence so slight that the majority of cases
would appear sporadically.

In order to complete the description
of the genetical factors underlying
severe mental defect, attention should be
drawn to a few diseases which are some-
times associated with it and which are
due to sex-linked or partially sex-linked
genes. These include some of the my-
136: 907, 1986.

INHERITANCE OP MENTAL DEFECT

363

opathies (progressive muscular degener-
ation) and some eye diseases. On the
whole, sex-linked inheritance seems to
play a comparatively small part in
determining intellectual subnormality.
Sufficient has been said to show that the
hereditary background of the low-grade
cases is complex and varied. Recessive
factors play an important part, but the
hypothesis, favored by Goddard in his
pioneer work on this subject, that all
heritable mental defect is a single reces-
sive trait, is untenable.

When the family histories are investi-
gated in cases of mild defect — the mo-
rons, the simpletons, the weak-minded
or whatever designation is preferred —
a different picture is obtained. An ap-
preciable number of the parents are
found to be of mental caliber no greater
than that of the offspring studied. The
proportion of defective parents is esti-
mated by various observers to be from
16 to 60 per cent., according to the posi-
tion of the arbitrary standard set for
defining what constitutes the lower limit
of normal intelligence. Since the major
part of the group of mild cases is only
arbitrarily distinguished from the nor-
mal, the laws which govern the inheri-
tance of intelligence in the normal group
are likely also to hold for tlie subnor-
mal or ‘‘subcultural’' group (as Lewis
termed it) . According to what is known
at present, intelligence — ^in so far as it is
an innate quality — ^is determined by a
large number of hereditary factors, some
dominant, some recessive and some cu-
mulative in action. The general rule
which covers multifactorial inheritance
of this kind is that the average intensity
of the quality so determined will be the
same in the children as it is in the par-
ents. That is to say, the combined in-
telligence rating of the parents sets the
standard rating for their children, some
of whom, however, will possess ability
above and some below this level. If, in
addition to subcultural mentality a par-

ticular patient should have the misfor-
tune to suffer from a mental disorder,
such as epilepsy or schisophrenia, the
genetic causation of the disorder must
be analyzed separately to give an ac-
curate picture of the hereditary back-
ground of the case.

In conclusion, it is of some interest to
speculate upon the possible value and
limitations of eugenic proposals for
eliminating mental defect by selective
sterilization. Since the severe cases are
mostly infertile the eugenic attack
must be made on potential parents of
imbeciles and idiots. This will involve
the sterilization of the carriers of de-
fects, who will themselves be healthy in
nearly every instance. At present these
normal carriers, though they are known
to be much more frequent in the gen-
eral population than are imbeciles and
idiots, can not be identified with cer-
tainty until they are already the parents
of at least one abnormal child. The at-
tempt to eliminate recessive or sporadic
conditions from the population by eu-
genic sterilization will be a thankless
task to say the least. Natural selection
has failed to do this in thousands of
years.

The attempt to eliminate mild cases
by eugenic measures encounters other
difficulties. It would be theoretically
possible to diminish the incidence of
high-grade defect in a sensible degree
by sterilizing every person whose mental
ability fell short of some specified mar-
gin. The problem of how best to define
this margin efficiently has, however, not
been solved. If the margin is low, the
results of the efforts are ineffective. If,
on the other hand, the margin is set high
enough to be really effective, it would
mean that about a tenth of the popu-
lation might have to be prevented from
having children. At the present time,
when numerically large populations are
considered to be desirable, no such pro-
posals as these would meet with general

364

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

approval. Some authorities have given
publicity to the belief that, in most civ-
ilized countries, the average degree of
intelligence is declining because the mo-
rons have the highest reproduction rate
in the community. If this is true, to
sterilize the most fertile group would be
suicidal. More probably it is not true.
The highest fertility in the community
perhaps does not rest with the most
highly cultured groups, but it is prob-
ably associated with a degree of intelli-
gence which, if not one hundred per

cent., is only just below the average level
— ^well within the range of what is con-
sidered to be normal ability. It would
indeed be rash, in this fluctuating world,
to lay down hard-and-fast principles
about what human beings were most suit-
able to survive in the long run. A high
general level of intellectual ability is
probably necessary for the satisfactory
development of civilization, but the most
biologically efficient human beings can
not be classified on the basis of intelli-
gence alone.

DISEASE DAMAGE IN GRAINS

By Dr. NEIL B. STEVENS
PBoriBSOB or botany, dnivbbsity or iuunoib, dbbana, ill.

1m a nation which has already become
accustomed to some form of crop acreage
control and in which experiments in crop
insurance are being conducted, informa-
tion regarding crop losses due to disease
is of importance to thoughtful citizens.
It is the purpose of this article to present
the available evidence on this subject as
it relates to our basic food crops, the
grains.

Two sets of disease loss estimates de-
rived from quite different sources have
been published by the United States De-
partment of Agriculture. For the years
1909 to 1925, inclusive, the percentage of
damage caused in various crops was com-
piled from estimates sent in by thousands
of crop reporters in all parts of the
United States. The estimated annual re-
duction for these years, together with the
average for the years 1916-1925, was pub-
lished on pages 821-322 of Voliune 3,
Supplement Number 10, “Crops and
Markets. ’ ’ Apparently no figures of this
type were published after 1925. The
averages for the decade 1916-1925, which
are slightly higher than for the earlier
years, but fall in the same order, are in

percentage : wheat, 5.2 ; oats, 2.8 ; barlqy,
2.7 ; com, 0.4. Bye is not mentioned.

The order in which the various grains
fall in this list seems to agree vrith the
general impression among informed
agronomists. Wallace and Bressman*
say (page 139) “Com is freer from dis-
ease damage than most other crops."
Moreover, in a series of articles discuss-
ing progress and possibilities in plant
and animal breeding, prepared by spe-
cialists of experience and high standing
in their respective fields and published
in the United States Department of Agri-
culture Yearbooks for 1936 and 1937,
relatively much more space was given to
discussing disease resistance in wheat,
oats and barley than in com. The rela-
tive amounts expressed as percentage of
total space which was given to this phase
were : wheat, 11.5 ; oats, 10.5 ; barlqy, 7.0 ;
corn, 1.9.

Beginning in 1917 and continuing to
the present time, the Plant Disease Sur-
vey has assembled and published esti-

iH. A. Wallaee and B. N. Breanuui,
and Corn Qrowing," fourth edition. New Tork.
1037.

DISEASE DAMAGE IN GRAINS

365

mates of crop losses sent in by collabora-
tors, professional pathologists, in the
various states. These figures are esti-
mates in the true sense of the word, and
no pretense is made that they represent a
high degree of numerical accuracy.
They are, however, the best obtainable
and certainly should be considered in
any attempt to evaluate the losses caused
by plant disease in the United States.
These estimates of losses due to disease in
the four small grains for the period 1917-
1937 are given in Pigs. 1 and 2. Cer-
tain correlations between these figures
and those derived from the estimates of
the crop reporters are at once apparent.
Throughout the period, the losses in rye,
not mentioned at all in the other list,
are smaller and fluctuate less than those
of the other grains. Losses in wheat on
the other hand are estimated as being
higher and fluctuating more than those
of any other small grain. The most
striking contrast is, of course, between
wheat and rye.

As regards disease losses in corn, the
agreement between the estimates com-
piled by the Plant Disease Survey and
the figures obtained by the other method
is less evident. The disease estimates for
the two most important grain crops,
wheat and corn, may be directly com-
pared in Fig. 8.

m. 1. BBTXHATID LOSSBS FBOlC ALL D1BIA8B8
Of WBBAT Amo BABLST XK TRB VKITSD STATB8
(BBPOBTnrO ABBA) 1917-1987.

FIQ. 2. ESTIMATEO LOSSES fBOX ALL DISEASES
OF OATS AND BTE IN THE UNITED STATES (BB-
POETXNO ABEA) 1917-1937.

In the loss estimate figures derived
from reports of the crop reporters, com
appears at the bottom (0.4 per cent.),
wheat at the top (5.2 per cent.), whereas
in the figures compiled from reports of
the collaborators of the Plant Disease
Survey, the average losses in wheat and
com for the twenty-year period are ap-
proximately the same: 9.86 for wheat
and 9.74 for com. A possible explana-
tion of the difference may be found in
the different points of view from which
the estimates were made. It seems en-
tirely reasonable that considerations of
economic importance of disease, rather
than of total losses, greatly influenced
the estimates of the crop reporters, many
of whom were growers, or were com-
mercially interested in crop production.

Among the factors which go to deter-
mine the economic importance of a dis-
ease, total average loss is only one item,
and perhaps far from the most important
item. In any list of factors to be con-
sidered in determining the economic im-
portance of a disease, the extent to which
the losses it causes fluctuate from year to
year must occupy a place. Under present
economic conditions, at least, fluctua-
tions in losses are no doubt more impor-
tant than total losses. Equally certain
is the fact that large fluctuations must
be very much more important than small
ones. The extreme case is of a fluctua-
tion so great as to produce actual famine
conditions which would be infinitely
more important than smaller ones.
The difference between wheat and com

366

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

in this respect is clearly shown in
Table 1, in which, indeed, the relative
positions of all the grains show a strik-
ing correlation with their positions in the
list derived from the estimates of the
crop reporters.

TABLB 1

Fluctuations in Chop Loss Bstiuatbs Compilbd
BT Plant Disease Survey. Number of
Years ldl7-1937 Showing the In-
dicated Differences from the
Preceding Year

2 Per Cent,
or Less

2-4 Per Gent.

1 4-8 Per Cent

8-16 Per Cent

Over 16

Per Cent.

Wheat . .

Barley . .

•

Oatii , . .

•

Corn . . .

•

Rye ....

•

It would appear from these figures
that the stability of yield of com has
been much less affected by disease than
has that of wheat. The contrast be-
tween our two great cereal crops as re-
gards dependability is recognized in the
Agricultural Adjustment Act of 1938.

The corn acreage allotment was calcu-
lated to produce, including the entire crop
and carry-over, a total supply equal to
110 per cent, of a normal year’s domestic
consumption and exports. The wheat
acreage allotment was calculated to pro-
duce with the carry-over not less than
130 per cent, of a year’s normal domestic
consumption and export requirement.

Likewise, marketing quotas for the
commercial corn-producing area were to
be announced for the following year,
subject to a referendum, if the total sup-
ply was estimated at more than 10 per
cent, above the normal supply. Market-
ing quotas for wheat, on the other hand,
were to be proclaimed only if this supply
should exceed by as much as 35 per cent.

FIO. 3. ESTIMATED LOSSES FROM ALL DISEASES
OF WHEAT AMD CORN IN THE UNITED STATES (RE-
PORTING AREA) 1917-1937.

a normal year’s domestic consumption
and export requirements.

Of course, factors other than fluctua-
tions in size of crop enter into these
figures. Also, factors other than disease
help cause these wide fluctuations, but
as stated on page 115 of the report on
agricultural adjustment for 1937-38, the
wheat farmer faces two chronic dangers
— the risk of crop failure and the danger
of tremendous surplus. If crop failures
due to rust epidemics could be elimi-
nated, it would be easier to guard against
the surpluses.

Secretary Wallace has said, ‘‘Fluctua-
tions in yields cause as much embarrass-
ment as unbalanced acreage.”* An im-
portant part of the work of American
plant pathologists would seem to be to
reduce the fluctuations in plant diseases.
Most attention may well be given then to
those food crops in which the losses from
disease show the greatest fluctuations. A
survey® of the literature of plant dis-
eases during the past half century or
more indicates that this has been the case.

3 New Bepuhlie, December 2, 1986.

3 Neil £. Stevens, Soienos, 89 : 889-340.
1939.

THE HIGHER EDUCATION: CONTROLLED

OR UNCONTROLLED?

By Dr. CHARLES A. DRAKE

DIBKCTOE, BUREAU OF INSTBUOTIONAL BSSBABCHf WEST VIROINIA UNIVERSITY

In the Pennsylvania Study^ it is re-
ported that students showed measured
gains as great or greater in some subject-
matter fields not part of their curricula
as they showed in the subject-matters
upon which they were ostensibly concen-
trating. Whence come such gainst Are
the courses in professionalized subject-
matters so enriched in the teaching
process that they yield striking gains in
fields only remotely related to themt

When the students in the last two
years of an engineering curriculum are
reported as making gains in fine arts, in
foreign literature and in English litera-
ture as extensive as the gains shown in
science and mathematics, what are we to
infer t Does the engineering curriculum
in its later years operate in a cultural
environment of singular richness f Do
the instructors go far afield in provid-
ing a background of unexpected breadth T
Or are teachers taking credit — and
blame — ^for phenomena over which they
have little or no control!

Without in the least disparaging the
cultural environment of the engineering
school or the quality of engineering in-
struction, may we not legitimately sus-
pect that the phenomena are quite be-
yond the control of the school t Perhaps
we may even suggest the hypothesis that
the phenomena reported are beyond the
control of the students themselves I

We tend to accept without question
the inference that measured gains shown
on successive applications of comparable

1 Learned and Wood, ^^The Student and His
Knowledge,’* Bulletin Number Twentj-Nine,
The Oamegie Foundation for the Advancement
of Teaching, 1988, pp. 28 ff.

subject-matter examinations are the re-
sult of teaching and learning efliorts.
The writers of the Pennsylvania report
and their commentators have accepted
this inference. They have also expressed
the corollary inference that failure to
show gains, individual and institutional,
implies lack of effort or forthright poor
teaching.

In the light of our own research results
we are impelled to the view that the fore-
going are not sound inferences. When
we tried to interpret our results in terms
of these inferences we found ourselves
in a dilemma. The statistically derived
facts did not fit these conventional ex-
planations. Escape from the dilemma
required a new hypothesis for explana-
tion.

Our attention was first attracted to the
situation when we considered the dis-
parate results from attempts to dis-
tribute grades to 259 students in a first-
year course in biology. The Biology
Department had assigned its grades
solely on the basis of total scores obtained
on five long and well-constructed objec-
tive examinations. Comparable forms of
the Cooperative Test Service biology
tests had been given at the beginning
and again at the end of the course. This
test at the end of the course presumably
reflected the level attained at that time
in the subject-matter field — at least, that
is the implication from the Pennsylvania
study. Similarly, the difference in stand-
ard scores for each student on the two
tests represented his gain achieved as the
result of his instruction.

When we made a distribution of grades

367

368

THE SOIBNTIFIO MONTHLY

for these students, using level on the
second standard test as a basis, and com*
pared these grades with those awarded
by the department, we found general
agreement between the results. In a few
instances students received G by one
method as against F by the other, A by
one and C by the other, or D by one and
A by the other.

li^en we made a similar distribution
using gains as the basis, we encountered
startling disagreements. Students who
deserved A’s on this basis had received
F’s and D’s from the department; others
who would receive F’s and D’s by this
method had received A’s and B’s from
the department. These disagreements
were so great and so numerous that we
made a correlation study of the whole
set of interrelationships among test
scores, gains, grades and intelligence test
results.

The results were unexpected and per-
plexing. In the sub-group numbering
217 who bad taken a one-year course in
biology in high school gains correlated
only .04 with grades; while for the sub-
group of 42 with no previous study of
biology this figure was .19.

Still more disturbing were the rela-
tions between intelligence and gains. .
Here the figure for the larger group was
-.14 as against -.29 for the smaller
group. There must have been errors in
the calculations: they were made again,
independently, with the ftame results.
Clearly, from these figures, the measured
gains were significantly related neither
to grades as awarded nor to intelligence
as measured.

Why should we expect any. other re-
sult t We have always swarded grades
with tlie tacit assumption that they re-
fiected achievement, attainment, growth,
mastery or gain — ^partially if not wholly.
It is apparent that this assumption is
quite unjustified in the situation studied.

From the definitions of intelligenoe,
implying as they do a mental alertness.

a quickness to grasp, a readiness to learn,
to meet new situations, to grow, as well
as from the nature of the instruments
used to measure this abilily, it is a fair
inference that higher intelligence implies
an associated ability to make greater
subject-matter gains. Not only is this
not a correct inference, in the light of
these results, but something slightly the
opposite seems to be implied.

This must be a chance result, in spite
of the odds against it, we thoiight. The
American Council Psychologic^ Exami-
nation is of known high reliability; The
Cooperative Test Service standardised
tests are known to be of high reliability;
and the five objective examinations upon
which grades were based were also found,
upon subsequent anal}^is, to be highly
reliable. Careful check of the figures dis-
closed no errors in the calculations. Per-
haps the situation was peculiar to this
course alone.

The following year the study was re-
peated, this time in a course in modem
European history. The content was dif-
ferent, the methods of instraction were
different and the basis for awarding
grades was different. But the results
were practically the same.

In two groups of 126 each, taught by
different instractors, gains correlated .02
and .12, respectively, with grades; and
-.19 and -.14, respectively with intel-
ligence. The probability of such results
by chance alone is infinitely small. We
are confronted with a major dilemma.

In the meantime we had extended the
biology study over two semesters with 88
students from the original group. For
these students their first-semester gains
correlated .23 with grades and .02 with
intelligence ; second-semester gains corre-
lated .20 with grades and - .01 with in-
telligence. In the light of our previous
beliefs this ^ould not happen. But it
has happened.

We must formulate an explanation
that will fit these results. If the gains

EDUCATION: CONTBOLLED OR UNCONTROLLED f 369

are shown to be relatively independent
of both scholarship in the usual sense,
as well as independent of intelligence as
usually measured, to what are they sig'
uidcantly related! We can not answer,
because we have no data.

We may suspect that these measured
gains reflect some underlying or innate
growth factor, that they result from some
obscure mental maturation process that
continues long after the usual measured
intelligence growth has attained its maxi*
mum. This seems to be a plausible
hypothesis, but only a hypothesis.

We may suspect that the underlying
function may take the form of known
growth curves. We should then expect
to And differences in the rates of accelera-
tion of such curves for different individ-
uals. We actually And a normal distri-
bution of gains, indicative of such differ-
ences in acceleration.

We may further suspect — and this
may be most important — that such curves
will reach their maxima at different ages
for different individuals, marking the
points at which such growth stops. The
failure of many students to show any
gain, noted in the Pennsylvania Study
as well as in our own, supports such an
inference. Obviously, a student who has
attained his maximum can not show any
further gains any more than can the
high- jumper who has attained his physio-
logical limit show any further gains in
the height of his jump.

To what traits of human behavior is
this apparently d3aiamic function prob-
ably most closely related t We have long
been puzzled by the continued personal
growth of some students whose college
records were poor and whose intelligence
test scores were low. Could it be possi-
ble that their later attainments were due
to this underlying function that had not
attained its maximum!

We are similarly often disappointed by
the failure of many brilliant students of
high measured intelligence to achieve dis-

tinction after their college days. Could
they have reached their maximum in this
function during or soon after the com-
pletion of their college courses, resulting
in an arrest of fur^er growth! This
may be a tenable hypothesis.

The function seems to be dynamic in
character and as such some sort of po-
tentiality for growth,” but it may be
better to name it only with a symbol
and restrict its meaning by a simple
definition: Iota Function — the function
responsible for successive gains on com-
parable forms of standardized subject-
matter examinations. This will help to
avoid the difSculties inherent in all
descriptive labels.

The Iota Function seems to be firmly
established as a mathematically verifiable
phenomenon if not as a fact of sense-
perception. What is the next step!
Clearly we must measure its effects and
record them over a sufficient period of
time to permit us to learn more of its
nature. We may never know any more
about the function itself than we now
know about gravitation, but we can learn
much about its effects.

In the light of the foregoing hypothe-
sis, how may we interpret the peculiar
phenomena of the Pennsylvania Study!
If measured gains are due to some innate
growth factor, a factor apparently not
significantly related either to scholarship
or to intelligence as these are usually
measured, the individuals and the insti-
tutions they attend are not to be praised
or blamed for such gains. Neither can
individual instructors be compared with
each other in teaching efficiency on the
basis of the gains shown by their
students.

It is also apparently quite possible
that the sizes of the classes taught may
not affect this phenomenon. This possi-
bility must be examined with care, since
it may have an important bearing upon
the economic aspects of education quite
apart from the problem of administra-

370

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

tive control. The traditional arguments
for the small, personalized classes and
the small colleges themselves may be
questioned.

How, then, are we to explain the dif-
ferences in average gains reported among
the colleges in Pennsylvania! The an-
nual reports of the average standings on
the American Council Psychological Ex-
aminations have shown certain colleges
at the top, others at the middle, and still
others at the bottom of the list, year after
year. These relative positions are main-
tained regardless of the fact that many
of the institutions do not use the test
scores as a criterion for the selection of
students. The same sort of selective fac-
tor that is responsible for this intelli-
gence phenomenon is probably respon-
sible for the gains phenomenon. In both
instances this factor would seem to be
operating largely without the volition of
the admissions personnel.

If the differences reported are due to
selection, failure to show gains can only
be corrected by amendment of the selec-
tion procedures, not by changes in in-
struction processes. The problem be-
comes one of identifying prior to
admission, the students having the
greater promise of such subject-matter
gains. This in turn implies suitable
records of similar growth during the
high school and possibly during the ele-
mentary school years.

If curves of subject-matter gains are
deducible from previous, records — ^rec-
ords of comparable scores on comparable
examinations — ^tbe task is comparatively

simple. SulBSicient data should make it
easy to project the appropriate curves
into and perhaps through the college
years and afford a basis for the predic-
tion of gains.

The lack of appropriate measurements
during the pre-college years is the main
obstacle to an immediate application of
such selection methods. Nevertheless, if
this lota Function is as important as it
seems to be, and its measured gains are
to be made a criterion of academic suc-
cess, the necessary data must be accumu-
lated and made available to the colleges.

There are other implications of the
Iota Function phenomena which extend
beyond the college years. The hypothe-
sis may be offered that students who
show positive acceleration of their gains
in their fields of major effort are the best
candidates for the graduate and profes-
sional schools. Such students would
seem to offer the promise of greatest per-
sonal accomplishments and most exten-
sive contributions to their chosen profes-
sions. This hypothesis, too, requires
experimental verification.

It is apparent that many of our tradi-
tional beliefs and some of our educational
practices will have to be reexamined
anew in the light of the Iota phenome-
non. Perhaps we are wasting both time
and money in misguided attempts at
instruction. Perhaps we are dispensing
both praise and blame where they are
undeserved. Perhaps we are dealing
with a fact of human nature which we
can only control through human adapta-
tion, as we now control the weather.

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

MENTAL SICKNESS^

The author of Ecclesiastes lived before
the days of ‘‘popular psychology/’ else
he might not have been so prone to un-
derstatement when he wrote, “of making
many books there is no end” 1 The veri-
table flood of pulp magazines and books
devoted to the alleged purpose of teach-
ing the reader to “control his mind”
and avoid mental disorder is an eloquent
testimonial to a need for guidance and
reassurance on the part of many indi-
viduals. This is not to say that good
advice for the laity is not to be found in
some books and in some reputable jour-
nals; even though self-prescription is
usually dangerous, there are excellent
volumes written primarily for non-med-
ical readers and dealing with the nature
of mental troubles and their prevention.
The very avidity of the public, however,
should cause the prospective author to
be very sure of his facts and of his way
of expressing them. Careless expression
and oversimplification of statement may
sometimes have untoward effects on the
introspective reader.

The present volume is evidently meant
for popular consumption. It is a bulky
volume, consisting of 22 chapters, breez-
ily written and loosely put together.
Many brief case histories are given, in-
terspersed with comments and rather
sweeping statements, sometimes of highly
doubtful scientific accuracy.

Alcoholism, one of the important ex-
amples of poor mental hygiene, is dis-
missed with a chapter of 2^ pages, while
two chapters (31 pages) are devoted to
schizophrenia and “how the schizo-
phrenic speaks” — ^an important subject
to the psychiatrist, but hardly so com-
prehensible to the lay reader as might be
a discussion of the meaning of alcohol-

^ Tour Mental Health. B. Liber, M.D. xvi +
408 pp. 1940. Melior Books.

ism. We are told that excessive smoking
and excessive use of coffee are “a cause
of restlessness” (p. 18) (probably they
are more often the result!), and that
“the importance of chronic constipation
. . . as a cause or contributory cause of
the most destructive diseases, mainly
physical, but also mental, has not been
emphasized strongly enough” (p. 366).
Again, we learn that poverty is one of
the causes of mental deficiency (p. 87),
and that retarded children should never
belong in the ungraded classes (p. 89)1
A final scientific gem, following the state-
ment that most homosexuality is ac-
quired, runs thus: “Homosexualism is
also spread in the so-called underworld,
that is among prostitutes and their para-
sites, among people with low-grade
mentalities and among the decaying
European feudal nobility and money
aristocracy in Europe and in America”
(p. 123).

The motives of the author in attempt-
ing to present some understanding of
mental processes are undoubtedly excel-
lent. Unfortunately, the volume can
hardly be termed sound or scientific,
however readable it may be.

Winfred Overholser, M.D.

UNITS OP LIFEi

This book presents a clear account of
modern views concerning the nature of
living things. Professor Gerard has suc-
ceeded in describing all the important
vital functions in a readable, forceful
manner which requires no specialized
biological training on the part of the
reader. The style is not dogmatic ; many
biological problems are introduced as
essentially questions awaiting a final
answer. .

1 Unresting CeUe. B. W. Gerard. Illustrated.
xiv + 4S9 pp. 83.00. 1940. Harper and Broth-
ers.

.^.Vr -Tj,

i^'«

,/Vv..?

H9A

*'’.i / A ■

,St ‘♦1 J ' "if •

i(|tiiii!iii\M.;>«^^ ' ■■■ ': ?Sm». '.iitik'.'iii .W- m m

i|'»:«in3rSiig :-milim*'-m\ rntmit ■ ifiatog -^ 06 ^

ijm'''tinai >BMKidiiiiff'.up dtnu^ .idiltei rto -ftal0iiMtti :ltot

in mii^.:miui9 ' ' b^iikiil’ ami^

l^^iklpgiwl' Um, .ii'ioBiBj* 5 jr«d.: . *• -vlte. . ' 'top* Ifcit' cty fl l w i tfw a !• abt

m; f.Oammmnmm

o ’-f^H 'l^aii Qii:^;'b|MdK 'ii;.}^^ . ■ ■■vyKwwf , .

aqd^.giVM -ini '« . - " |l«iin:gmt kw.Ib' modon tiniiii:,1^

1 m itorieil and diwntwi! toboflivli^ "twai 'i>oe<wiipMii<id -to .». la«f<! .iaepiiMfi'i

.ffliiffp'' ndtiwid 'diiiAtmlod <v .'«npgg«!*>

:’«&i% '{xnindad 'id' B'.ibipiw.'" , .
"';;'flw"'^«ii oi'^r-biMlh: 'it;lfli;iold|^''WN
«i|ticed' aiid glvw Jnd a ;diiO;l|id^' of
im itooiaal and dwpBiwd taito of IMiw

i \ ' * If' I *' ^

Mrttoc. itCQ^nrot f^nlao m «Qaui^d% piiM%

ffuillM jbp 4oviW diiur^^ i|iidl»d diMUiM. Tifftitiiin Tm-mjjatjmh.

im Isnind iroowtyo aatfaBol dflll^^ ■ iw ,1^

liddr. .''obaptnt'. dMl,.iridi ^fn^rtli, jlnaoM ^abiMfef' tWi Mid in 'Oorinwilp:
rq^^iMdioa book idiM llio 'VToiid Wiur !t 9 'Im :^#i|ii#;

diooM wilk <iw#i(|ii on the orf^dm u Seidel Isiiillfod la

• ybOte. lid tapl foons of OB It |i l^dbs

dd litviaf 'bofaig ia'Mi kitogndod: .viiit;is luf: 4»'' m iboadp' n a p o ian ihi i 'ifmit'f;'
owwitiol for a loiBddaMioea |iadiwa l tl d |iB WUMm "m

'of pigndelogjr. ' " . - .x - '',»i:aakkMd 9 '':'’''iBita|rti^

.1 ,' .. '
« Vi '

fkffMfMadjfV' 'siiiUtt» "m

muif' ■wmmm' .dto , .:. |wtfia M iriwt ''.

^brnbr -te' :'>Mil9 ''tMdtt

rn mllMmm /.mmk .jM^. cliftlfilt IflHlIliitiili' M

bgr-lid' -ilfffOKaii^ 'y'> .y:;'’
. ■ iMf-

’'iMtf ■ 'ixltt -iMIi''- w^tlw

'iiiiBt Qld«CW^|doa«d.., MudWt'.^M.;;;r.d^ p!dliididAaM|.4id!Mr/.d^
odl.** ''..Tluk iO«duetbp»..|^ 'Mhc^$^'.'#*'; . :diadl^'';:<^';aMM'. 'fMlji
me bate do. :<'',o^l;^*'^'''MvaiMti^

'Jfonom, .little U '■. ■ ■^':',,-|^':'gNii?^-''f^

.a':i^b«i^ egg 0 ^ •9A^il.v|i|dd|l^ ;j.dii^''''1niija^
pem/'ibM' 'onder 'dM ‘Iwdi'., iw#':-'pw^d^

.Pnifpi^ Oeraid, of .coiiraO,:'p«>l^*;^ :.;;; '|iyftttlii | ^
thaw diWIwildM. - ■

"l!lw boidi' mnild '.jbe ;

mmm ot'-awdUm dOdiidF ' ''

moddla' lopirMMitiiig .|doi(idogii^'^ 'idddilwo
.Iflw a- boart -If toacilad
. aganmi 'euL 'ba,.ddliMMdM':;|ii;:

MPiQHra '."iMuip,;. /jyy^piyii^^

iM'"*.!!". 1 * iM • V ' "1

nm'm

hym

u'K ’

^ n TrmnTTZTTTr; a rvrrTA ®'':7irTr:

iblittkiM '^tSbiii' 'll y v ' ''

'*■*.■ ^ , - . (I , i^'i ' 1 ./ ' v ^ ‘►bl,

jjlv 'j

‘ • ■ ■'7..> ' ‘
&V»‘.

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

373

wiHi the maximum of eflaciency and over-
all good. Perhaps this approach was
stimulated by the fact that the investi-
gation was made at the request of the
War Department. In any case, it is
excellent.

The book opens with an introductory
chapter consisting of a clear and very
readable statement of the systematic
manner in which the question is
analyzed and answered. No description
can give as clear an idea of the approach
as a mere list of the points raised and
discussed. Part I consists of an analysis
of the factors involved in the determina-
tion of the prices of commodities in times
of war ; and Part II consists of a review
and appraisal of the price advances and
the controls of them that were used or
attempted during World War I, with
constant references to the considerations
presented in Part I.

The questions considered in the Intro-
duction are indicative of the analyses in
Parts I and II. Among these subjects
are: *‘What are the sinews of wart
What part does money play in the
mobilization of a nation’s resources for
wart What is the significance of price
in a war economy f Large government
purchases on a competitive basis. Specu-
lation in commodities. Uncoordinated
government buying. Competitive bid-
ding for labor. The expansion of bank
credit. Does price inflation tend to ex-
pedite or to retard effective mobilization
for war t How does price inflation affect
the distribution of the war burden
among the various groups in society?
Does price inflation serve to increase or
decrease the cost of a war to the nation?
What is the economic aftermath of war-
time price inflation? Does government
borrowing through bank credit expan-
sion shift the burden of a war to future
generations? Is it possible to finance a
war entirely frqm taxes and from loans
paid out of current income?”

There should be no surprise that these

questions relate so explicitly to the war,
for it is the primary occasion for^ the
whole question of possible inflation and
its effects. Any controls or attempted
controls that may be devised must be
subservient to the primary purpose of
rearmament.

The conclusion reached by the author
is '*that a serious inflation of prices in
time of war can be prevented. The ex-
planations of the great price inflations
in past wars is to be found in an unsound
fiscal policy ; in part in the unrestrained
use of the competitive price mechanism
as a means of bringing about war mobili-
zation, and in part in the adoption of
faulty principles of price control when
finally the necessity for control was dis-
covered.”

In view of the disastrous consequences
tliat would result from inflation, we may
fervently hope that those who perhaps
can prevent it will have the wisdom, the
legal power and the administrative abil-
ity to act effectively when action is
necessary. And if all these conditions
are met we shall have lost, at least for a
time and perhaps permanently, some of
the liberties we have traditionally
cherished.

P. R. Moulton

WAR CORRESPONDENCE FROM
THE CANCER FRONTS

Exciting as a report of battle and yet
as charmingly human as an intimate
conversation is the little book just off the
press in which Dr. Sokoloff tells the
story of the fight against cancer. With
rare skill the author has beautifully suc-
ceeded in reporting briefly some of thb
outstanding achievements in cancer re-
search and in defining the complexities
of the problem. While never denying
the tragedy of neglected cancer, the bock
is filled with the sunshine of hope ; hope
that the advance of knowledge through
tireless research and that the dissipation

iUnoonquer 0 d Xnemff. Boris Sokoloff. x +
108 pp, $1.78. 1040. The Greystone Press.

374

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

of knowledge through persistent educa-
tion will prolong many lives and pre-
vent much suffering now unnecessary.
Avoiding sentimentality and emotional
appeal through sensationalism, the au-
thor has been able, nevertheless, to in-
fuse a living enthusiasm and interest by
his excellent thumbnail sketches of ^i-
entists at work.

The style is exceptionally al>propriate
to presentation of scientific data and
concepts to laymen. One reads quickly,
with pleasure and interest. With a fine
comprehension of values Sokoloff XMiints
the grandeur of research. The scientific
facts are sound, and his critical ap-
praisals of present investigations impar-
tial. Naturally, much factual and theo-
rectical knowledge of neoplasmata is
omitted for the sake of brevity and sim-
plicity. The book is enthusiastically
recommended to those whose interest in
cancer is neither technical nor very pro-
found.

Eowabd J. STracOiiTZ

CONTROL OF DEVELOPMENT, DIF-
FERENTIATION AND OROWTH>

If, at an early embryonic stage in
development, especially of the amphibian
«gg) parts of the outer cell membranes
from which the neural groove would
develop are transplanted to another part
of the embryo, there will be formed in
the new place a neural tid>c« and also
appropriate adjacent structures, such as
would otherwise never have developed in
that place. To account for this phe-
nomenon the hypothetical substance
called by Spemann *Hhe orgamser” has
been invifited. The author of the present
book, who is a nomenclatorophile, likes
to call this, or the substance it produces,
the “evocator.** The gene m in some
way responsible for the developmmit of

1 Orga,ni»en and Oenea. 0. H. WsddhkgtOB.
160 pp. IMO. Osrabridge TTnlvendtv

Press.

organs in their normal place in ike nor-
mal embryo. The author, an .experi-
enced embryologist, says of his book: “1
have devoted some space to point out the
similarities between the concepts de-
rived from the consideration of the
organiser and those which arise in con-
nection ^ith the developmental effects of
genes.”

Of his book the early chapters ore
devoted to this evocator and the search
for its chemical nature. The search for
the substance that organises develop-
ment, or calls forth a new part, has so
far not bemi crowned with much success.
The author, working with Joseph Need-
ham, also of Cambridge, England, has
finally reached the conclusion that the
substance belongs to the group of sterols.
But the history of their search reminds
one of Loeb’s search for the substance
that the sperm brings into the egg to
start its development. After announc-
ing the discovery of several, one after
the other, Loeb concluded that a variety
of agents might start development of the
partbenogenetic egg when the egg was
all ready for fertilization. In similar
fashion some experiments report that
mechanical irritants, such as silica or
certain substances that injure the cell,
may “evocate.** Now the conclusion
seems to be that the evocator evocates
the evocatable. This is not a great ad-
vance over Aristotle’s epitome of the
ontogenetic process; Part acts on part.
Still, concentration on the study of the
organizer and the conditions under
which it is active is opening up a new
field of research which the author de-
scribes in tiiis vdume in some detail.

In hjs discussion of genic action the
author gets farther. His chapter on the
temporal course of gene reactions is
good, but he does not perhaps sufficiently
emphasize the fact that the time of first
appearance of g new organ is not neces-
sarily the time at which the aidage of

BOOKS ON SCIENCE POE LAYMEN

375

that organ haa been formed. Even the
anlage haa precursors that might in some
cases be traced back to the fertilised egg.

A chapter is devoted to * ‘individua-
tion,” which is the author’s preferred
name to differentiation. As he points
out, the process of individuation is dif-
ferent from the process of evocation.
The evocator changes from time to time,
or the substrate upon which it acts does,
so that in the course of development new
and different structures are added to the
earlier and less differentiated ones.

chapter headings : the soldier, man-made
killers, -the machines of modem warfare,
crucibles of death, the chemical industry.
These chapters are followed by an ap-
pendix and a bibliography. . The topi(£
discussed progressively increase in scope
and in unsatisfactory treatment.

Chemical warfare is discussed under
the somewhat lurid tide of “Crucibles
of Death,” and attempts to cover in 40
pages the history of the devriq[>ment of
chemical warfare itself, the great variety
of materials used, and the tactics of their

The author’s synthesis of the action of
organisers and genes is not quite as com-
plete as might have been hoped for.
Both are responsible for development at
different stages, but there is no good evi-
dence that they work in the same way.

The book is a useful and successful
attempt to bring together the observed
facts of the action of the hypothetical
organizer and many of the effects of the
action of the gene. One is grateful to
the author for directing attention to the
physiological factors which control de-
velopment, differentiation and growth.
The bibliography is full and up to date.
The book will be a useful addition to the
library oS the biologist.

Chas. B. Davenport

NEW MANKILLSS^

This is a very interesting^ book. It
contains much material infoi^tive to
those not already familiar with the field
covered. There are relatively few errors
of statement.

DnforttmatOTy, die authors were lim-
ited by choice, or otheriirise, to about 150
pages in whirii. to present a tpf^ e|moBt
encyclopedic in scope. jn^sent

various phases of their subiectf l^dw the,

■ J-W'- .

is Warfare: 11$ gtrotoaie Jmpar^

Bat-

tin. mnrtriteai iSaiit Baitiiilis

Hww. '

use. i,

The 16 pages devoted to the chemical
industry contain a collection of frag-
mentary data. The 23 pages of the
Appendix give technical information
concerning a iride range of topics. The
attached hibliQii§iiphy may constitute the
more i^pOriant sources from which the
data h^'^e book have been collected, but
aim At no specific references are given in
the t^t. Throughout the book there is
an mvious attempt to laud the work of
AmHican chemists and to present this
laudation in a criorful manner.

With so many attempted objectives it
is not surprising that the authors have
attained none of them in a very satis-
factory manner.

Despite the severity of the criticism
implied and expressed above, the bo<dc is
not without considerable merit. It pro-
vides the technical man with a few hours
of very interesting reading and permits
an appreoiative evaluation of the topics
outside his particular field, ^he non-
technicM re^er fttay not gahi much
actual infommtion, despite popular
style of the b<^k, tot will p^bably get
a. better appreeiadon of the iromendous
'topagt of modern vqjir qn the civilian

atsd :nf -v^ importance of
tediideid and of ,.wp8eity tor

production of jrar matarig^.

^ ' EtoACT G. Btbrs

lUTTON OLABEiraiB MtTAirtt

THE PROGRESS OF SCIBHCE

DAYTOH CLARBNCB MILLBS. RBNOWKBD PHYSICIST

The Case School of Applied Science
suffered a great loss in the death of her
noted physicisti Dr. Dayton Clarence Mil-
ler, on February 22, at the age of 74 years.

Dr. Miller had taught at Case for more
than fifty years and had been head of the
department of physics from 1893 until
his retirement in 1986. In 1927 he had
been made Ambrose Swasey research
professor of physics. Upon his retire-
ment the Case trustees bestowed upon
him the title ‘‘Honorary Professor of
Physics’' for life, and at their request
he continued as acting head of the de-
partment until the fall of 1939.

Internationally known for his work in
quantitative measurements of light and
sound and as the inventor of the Phono-
deik, which turns sound waves into a
moving beam of light upon a screen, Dr.
Miller was at the same time a modest and
lovable teacher, always searching for the
truth and ever interested in the prob-
lems of his students.

Dr. Miller’s work in the field of acous-
tics was widely recognized. He studied
acoustics ill relation to auditorium de-
sign and drew the sound specifications
for some of the large auditoriums
throughout the United States. Among
these auditoriums «re Severance Music
Hall, the Epworth-Buclid Methodist
Church and the First Church of Christ,

through the ether of space. This re^
search followed the famous Michelson-
Morley ether drift experiments of 1887,
which originated on the Case campus.
This research, both in Cleveland and at
Mt. Wilson in California, was carried on
by means of the interferometer, a
mechanism which splits a ray of light
into two parts traveling at right angles
to each other. These beams are reflected
back and forth by mirrors over a dis-
tance of 200 feet. Dr. Miller’s ether
drift studies, beginning in 1901, were led
to the conclusion of a positive drift, on
which he presented a paper before the
National Academy of Sciences meeting
at Princeton University on November 18,
1929. Full publication of these studies
was made in 1933.

Dr. Miller was a member of many
learned societies, including the National
Academy of Sciences, and in several he
held important offices. For three years
he was chairman of the Division of
Physical Sciences of the National Be-
search Council of Wtushington. Since
1914 he was a member of the council of
the American Pbs^ical Society, and
served -as secretary from 1918^1922,
vice-president in 1923-24 and prmidmit
in 1925>-26. He served as secretary of
the physics section of the Amerioan Asso-
ciation for the Advanoement of Science

Scientist, in Cleveland, and the chapels
at Denison University, Bryn Mawr Col-
lege, Princeton University, the Univer-
sity of Chieago, and he was eonsfolted
coneetniilii^ tae noonsties of the National
Academy of Seienees budding in Va^*
ingfon, D. C, In additiop ita these hiajor
strnetmres,;’]^^ HiUor des^aed speeidca-;,
tioita for i^out a hinid^ pth^r
thaateio, hospitala. oflei^ and i^e and
small anditoriniiis. .

in 1902-06, was vioe-president in 1907,
was secretary of the council in 1908 and
general secretary in 1909.- Besides mem-
bership in these societies, Dr. Hiller was
a member of thirty-three Other organisa-
tions whose interei^.lay in the fidds of
ph^ics, aniltaonomy, acoustics, optics,
eni^n^ring' education, inathematks,
scholarship and marie.

Dn Hillmr's degrees are many;. He
graduated trom Baldwin-Wallace Odl-

Anotfamr achievement was in his re- lege witii the degrees of bhclirior of arts
seOrdi on **cftlier drtft,” in which he in 1886 and mas% of arts in 1889. In
sought {woof of the earthV motimi 1890 the degree of doctor of science was

877

378

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

conferred upon him by Princeton Uni-
versity, Since then he has received five
honorary degrees : doctor of science from
Miami University in 1924; from Dart-
mouth, in 1927; doctor of laws from
Western Reserve University, in 1927;
and the same from Baldwin-Wallace, in
1933. Case School of Applied Science
conferred the degree of doctor of engi-
neering in 1936.

In addition to his many degrees, Dr.

Miller possessed several medals for dis-
tinction in his scientific work. In 1917
and again in 1927 two medals were pre-
sented by the Franklin Institute. In
1925 he won the $1,000 prize of the
American Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, and the City of Cleve-
land gave him the medal for distin-
guished service in 1928.

W. E. WlOKENDEN
Prbsiosnt, Case Hchool

ASTRONOMY SECTION OF SMITHSONIAN’S NEW INDEX EXHIBIT

The purpose of the new indea exhibit
in the main hall of the Smithsonian
Institution in Washington is to provide
for visitors a concise portrayal of all the
activities of the institution. The subject
of each section of the exhibit is an-
nounced in large letters at the top of the
panel, with a brief definition of the
science or other activity below this title.
Each section is developed around a cen-
tral theme, which symbolizes the subject
represented by means of a working
model, diorama, painting or other me-
dium. Flanking this on either side are
models, specimens, paintings and other

objects to visualize the Smithsonian’s
contributions to the particular field of
investigation. All the exhibits are re-
cessed behind glass and illuminated from
above or behind.

The first subject portrayed, astron-
omy, is defined as ^'the study of celestial
objects.” The central theme is a
diorama measuring about 2x3 feet
representing the central room of a
hypothetical space ship. The observer,
apparently looking out from the nose of
the ship, sees before him, against a black
background spangled with stars, the
globe of the earth with its familiar con-

A8TBONOMY SECTION

OF BWTHBOKI^N^S KEW INSEX EXHIBtt

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

379

CROBS-8ECTION OF A 8M1THBON1AN OBSERVING TUNNEL

TO KEEP TEMPERATURE CONDITIONS CONSTANT THE DELICATE HEASUEINO INSTRUMENTS ARK
MOUNTED INSIDE A Tl^NNEL NEAR THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN. THE SUN *8 RAYS ARB REFLECTED
BT MIRRORS. THE INTENSITY OF THE RADIATION IS RECORDED ON PHOTOQRAPHIC PLATES. CARRFITL
STtTDT OF THESE ENABLES THE OBSERVER TO CORRECT FOR LOSSES IN THE EARTH’S ATMOSPHERE.

.4W’8 fiAWUaS&T'TaS) JBABTH ,■ ■■

not BARtB uoBnm ON oun linMi bt the satb or tbb bon ab 'it woin.p ArpsAs mox a

SYrOTBXncAti bpacb bbip.

380

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

tinents and oceans. The earth, revolving
slowly, is brilliantly illuminated on one
side and dark on the other. The label
emphasizes the importance of the sun’s
rays to life on the earth.

On the left-hand panel are trans-
parencies in color of two of the Smith-
sonian solar observing stations — one on
pine-covered Table Mountain, Califor-
nia; the other on barren Mount Monte-
zuma, Chile, near the great nitrate
desert. Adjoining these a very complete
model in diorama form visualizes a
mountain-top observing tunnel at one of
these stations. The cut-away side of the
mountain reveals a cross-section of the
tunnel with all the instruments repro-
duced in miniature. Even the beam of
sunlight reflected in by the clock-driven
eoelostat appears in the form of a tiny
strip of Cellophane. The intensity of
the solar radiation, as measured by an
electrical thermometer sensitive to one
millionth of a degree, records itself auto-
matically on photographic plates in these
tunnels, and one of the actual plates is
mounted below the model.

The right-hand panel displays two of
the instruments constructed under my
direction in the course of the Smith-
sonian’s solar investigation, namely, the
silver-disk pyrheliometer for measuring
in calories the total solar radiation, and
the solar cooker, one of a series of instru-

ABBOT BOLAB COOKEB

ON A CLOUDLESS DAY THIS MODEL CAN UTILIZE
THE SUN’S RAYS TO BAKE A CAKE IN HALF AN
HOUR OR RUN A SMALL STEAM ENGINE* LARGES
DEVICES FOR DISTILUNO WATER, COOKING, REFRIG-
ERATING OB OPERATING STEAM ENGINES HAVE
BEEN CONSTRUCTED AND DEMONSTRATED.

meats devised to produce heat and
power directly from the sun's rays.

The astronomy exhibit is completed
by two placards calling attention to the
purposes and results of the Smith-
sonian’s study of the sun.

C. G. Abbot,

SintrasoMUN JNSTmmoH Secretary

THE SNOW MOUNTA1N8—NBW GUINEA GROUP IN THE AMERICAN

MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY

This recently installed' exhibit por^
trays alpine conditions in the center of
New Guinea, an island about 1,500 miles
long by 400 in greatest width, and lying
just below the equator. Chains of'
mountains extend, like a backbone, along
the length of the island, reaching their
greatest height in the Snow MountahiB
of Netherlaud New Guinea, where six
pwks are eternally snow covered. The
highest, Mt. Carstensa, reaches an alti-
tude of 16,600 feet. The southeast trade
winds bring a dry season to parts of the

south and southeast coasts, where sa-
vanna country prevails, but the rest of
the lowlands are humid, with' dense
tropical vegetatiom Going up from
these lowland, one passes through belts
of oak and beeeh forests to pines, tree-
blueberries and rhododendron, and
finally to alpine gnwdand mow.

The view in the group is loiAihg sonth-
ward across Lake fiabbema, whidh
reaches 11,000 feet above the sea, toward
Rt .Wilhdmina, the third highest peak.
In the left foreground is a dark forest

A VIEW OF MT. WIIiHELMINA IN THE SNOW MOUNTAINS

TO AN OBNITHOLOGIST NBW GUINEA KECALL8 BIRDS OF PARADISE. HERE TWO SPECIES ARB SHOWN:

A GROUP OF MACGREGOR BIRDS OF PARADISE PERFORMING THEIR COMMUNAL DANCE ON A PINE BOUGH,

AND JUST BELOW THEM A LONG-TAILED, SPLENDID BIRD OF PARADISE.

of pine and tree-blueberry, festooned rock, capped with snow. Around the
with liverworts and mosses and enliv- lake marshy areas add to the diversity
ened with orchids ; at timberline this of the country.

gives way to grassland with many New Guinea has an extraordinary
brilliant flowers. On Mt. Wilhelmina richness of bird life, with perhaps 500
itself, the last few thousand feet are bare breeding species. Bird life especially

■

“■i

QUAIL Fk>M THE SHOW MOUNTAINS

waeuL «r mi alpimii (»Asai<Aiin> bbowino two qvAit wAucmo ju^ ■u wwt cup a and daisy-

UXS rLOWBBS HXAB VBS BMB OP A DBIBD-DT POOU

382

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

characteristic of New Guinea includes
the birds of paradise, honeyeaters,
pigeons, parrots and lories, kingfishers,
cuckoo shrikes and flycatchers. Exam-
ples of five of these groups are shown
in the exhibit. Most of the birds shown
have never been exhibited before. Four
of them were unnamed before last year.

The group was collected in the course
of Mr. Richard Archbold’s third and
most spectacular expedition to New
Guinea, known as the Indisch-Ameri-
kaansche Expeditie. The expedition, in
cooperation with the Netherlands Indies
Government, concentrated on an alti-
tudinal survey of mammals, birds, plants
and insects from sea level to snow line
on the north slope of the Snow Moun-
tains. The success of the whole expedi-

tion, as well as the collecting of the
group, was made possible by the use of
the large flying boat Ouha, which flew
the party of more than 100 men, includ-
ing carriers and a military escort, to
Lake Habbema, and supplied them with
food for their stay of nine months.
Here the^Guha operated from a higher
altitude than had any flying boat previ-
ously. To have even reached the points
inland by boat and on foot, the only
other modes of travel possible, would
have been an achievement. By the use
of an airplane the party had ample time
for studies, and was able to send out in
addition to specimens such bulky mate-
rial as the accessories for the group.

A. L. Band

JUNQPRAUJOCH, THE HIGH-ALPINE UNIVERSITY

On the J ungf rau joch, in Switzerland,
at an altitude of 11,340 feet, there stands
a castle-like, massive stone building of
two floors, with a solid-looking tower.
This is the High-Alpine Research Insti-

^ , Courti($if Willy HaXUtr, Zurich

TRAIN OF THE JUNGFRAU RAILWAY

IN SWirZERI»AND BETWEEN KLEIKB BCBEXBSOO

^ND SIOER OLACIBB.

tute. A visit, to this building reveals
scientific equipment many a university
would be proud of — ^practically installed
working rooms and splendid laboratories
with the most up-to-date instruments.
High up in the tower is the library, a
comfortable, oak-panelled room where
.• innumerable volumes of scientific works
are at the disposal of the scientists. A
permanent supervisor is in charge; he is
probably the “highest” beadla^ For
visiting scientists there are comfortable
dormitories and two-berth cabins, as well
as a kitchen for the preparation of their
meals — things one does not usually asso-
ciate with scientific research stations.
Adjoining the building are stables where
a certain number of animals are kept for
experimental purposes.

Although this buildiug was only
started in 1929 and completed in 1931,
the history of the Jungfraujooh High-
Alpine Research Station dates back to
1894. It was then tiiat Adolf Qqyer-
Zeller, the creator of the Jungfrau Rail-
way, undertook to support science in its
endeavors to extend research to high
altitudes. A danse of the railway com-

THE PBOGRESS OP SCIENCE

383

Courteny A, Klopfenstein

THE ALET8CH C4LACTER, FIFTEBJN AND ONE-HAl.F M1LE8 LONG

raOM JUNQPRAUJOCH, SWITZERLAND, CONVKNIENTI^Y REACHED BY MOUNTAIN RAILWAYS, ONE
ENJOYS A GLORIOUS OUTLOOK ON THIS GLACIER, EITROPE'b MOST GIGANTIC ‘‘RIVER OP ICE.''

pany’s eoncession obliged them to set
aside considerable funds for the erection
and the maintenance of a permanent
observatory for meteorological and ter-
restrial-phys ical observatioi is.

The Jungfraujoch Research Station
was originally housed in a wooden
pavilion erected on the plateau in 1925
by the Central Federal Meteorological
Institute with the collaboration of the
Jungfrau Railway Company. This was
only a provisional arrangement until the
meteorologists were able to take over
their permanent home.

The Swiss Society for Natural History
Research, which had been commissioned
by the Federal Government to carry out
the latter work, experienced great diffi-
culty in finding a suitable site. The spot
had to be freely accessible in all weather
conditions. The solution was found by
the Jungfrau Railway Company, when,
in the spring of 1927, Uie “Sphinx^’
gallery was dritim through to the Jung-
Iraufirn. The new building was placed
at the exit of this gallery. Thus the

stately house on the south slope of the
Sphinx came into being.

The institute undertakes research and
investigations of a medical character, in
physics (particularly cosmic rays), bot-
any, zoology, etc. But astronomers also
wanted to make use of this new home of
science on the Jungfraujoch. The obser-
vatory of Geneva University accepted
the task of installing a ‘^branch” on the
Jungfraujoch. Now a solid stone build-
ing is perched like an eyrie about 180
feet above the exit of the Sphinx gallery
on the east slope of the Sphinx. But
meteorology, which had been given pri-
ority in the Jungfrau Railway conces-
sion, was still without a home.

Unfortunately the Research Station
itself did not possess the necessary funds
wherewith to erect the required building.
So ‘^Sphinx Limited, Jungfraujoch’’
was formed in August, 1936, for the
purpose of erecting the necessary build-
ings. Thorough investigation by famous
meteorologists had led to the conclusion
that the peak of the Sphinx would be the

384

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Owrteity L» Bwinger

SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTE AND NEW METEOBOLOGICAL OB8EBVATOBY
JUKOFBAUJOCH, BERKEBE OBEELAND, SWITZERLAND, 11,340 FEET, HAS THE LOFTIEBT ALL>TSAB
SETTLEMENT IN EUROPE. IT CONSISTS OP THE BERQBAU8 HOTEL, THE JUNGFRAU JOCH RA TI i RO A P STA-
TION, THE HIGH ALPINE BOIENTIFIC INSTITUTE JUNGFRAUJOCH, AND TO TOP IT ALL, ON THE SUMMIT
OF THE SPHINX ABOVE, 11,729 FEET, THE NEW METEOROIAKllCAL OBSERVATORY JUNGFRAUJOCH. •

most favorable spot for the new observa-
tory. But again the problem of safety
and accessibility had to be solved. A
suspension railway from the Research
Institute to tlie peak would have been too
much exposed to weather and would
have been useless at certain periods of
the year. Thus it was decided to make
use of the existing Sphinx gallery and
to drive a shaft for a lift from here to
the peak. In the summer of 1937 the
erection of a solid stone'building on the
peak of the Sphinx, 11,716 feet above sea
level, was completed. The observatory
is at the free disposal of the Foundation
** High- Alpine Research Station of the
Jungfraujoch^’ and the Central Federal
Meteorological Institute. Meteorological
observations and weather forecasts from
the peak of the Sphinx mountain are not
only very important for mountaineers
and skiers, but also render invaluable
services to international aviation. The

Swiss Alpine Club expressed its great
interest in the erection of the meteoro-
logical station on the towering rock of
the Jungfrau joch by subsidizing the
scheme with a substential amount of
money.

Nowadays the J ungf rau Railway con-
veys not only numerous tourists to the
lofty heights and beautiful Alpine
scenery of this glacier district, but also
an ever-increasing number of explorers
and scientists eager to extend their in-
vestigations to hitherto unknown re-
gions. During the five years since its
completion, 184 scientists from every
part of the world have taken advantage
of this unique opportunity to carry out
research work at this high altitude under
the most auspicious conditions. They all
study the same theme, namely, the in-
fluence of high altitudes on men, animals
and plants, and apply the results for the
benefit of humanity.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

385

THE SPECTROSCOPE— THE MASTER INSTRUMENT

In the days of Newton the producers
of refracting telescopes were in despair
because when a beam of light passes ob-
liquely through a refracting surface its
direction is not only changed but it is
spread out into its component colors.
The result was that the refracting tele-
scopes of the time formed separated
images in various colors, each at a dif-
ferent distance from the objective, and
consequently no definite focus was ob-
tained. For this reason Newton and
later Herschel turned to the use of re-
flectors which do not have this unfortu-
nate property. It is altogether probable
that observers of the time often thought
that if they had directed Creation they
would have had precisely the same re-
fraction for all colors, and therefore
much better telescopes for exploring the
wonders of the heavens.

Alas for the silly opinion that man
.could improve on Creation ! Dolland
soon learned how to overcome largely
the difficulties due to dispersion of light
in refraction. And a thousand times
more important, the dispersion of light
of which the contemporaries of Newton
complaiued was precisely the one of its
properties that made possible the spec-
troscope, concerning which, upon receipt
of the Rumford Medals of the American
Academy of Arts and Science, Professor
George R. Harrison, director of the Re-
search Laboratories of Experimental
Physics and of Applied Physics at the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology,
spoke in part as follows :

The epectroscppe has become what appears to
be the most powerful single tool which has yet
been developed by the hand and mind of man,
and one which is suited to a wide variety of
purposes. Henry Norris Bussell has called the
spectroscope the Master Key of Bcienoe," and
an examination of the uses of the instrument
reveals ah astoniabingly wide variety of appli-
cations. Recently t had occasion to list the vari-
ous uses of Uie spectroscope,* I found that it has
bem applied to such remarkably divergent pur-
poses as the measurement of the ratio of the
charge of an electron to its mass ; determination

of the weight of a star ; detection of atoms pres-
out in a mixture of other atoms in amounts
smaller than one in ten million; the measure-
ment of tbo amounts of lead, orsenic and Other
imisons in foodstuffs; observation of the num-
bers of atoms entering and leaving molecules
in a solution or vapor; calibration of the vita-
min potencies of food samples; determination of
the atomic constitution of complex molecules
such as those of hormones and vitamins; mea-
surement of the temperatures, sizes, distances
and ages of stars; observation of the number
and arrangement of electrons in atoms, and of
atoms in molecules; the identidcation of crimi-
nals from traces left at the scene of a crime or
carried from it ; the study of the colors and dis-
coloration of pigments and papers and ceramic
glazes ; tlie investigation of the origins and con-
stitutions of minerals; and so on and on.

To the astronomer the spectroscope is at once
a yardstick, a thermometer, a chronometer, a
stethoscope for star-pulses, an analyzing micro-
scope, a chemical balance and a super-telescope
of the heavens. I think President Shapley will
agree with me that though without the telescope
the spectroscope would have little value to the
astronomer, the spectroscope in its turn has mul-
tiplied the power of the telescope by perhaps
twenty — for though it is the function of a tele-
scope to gather light and focus this is an image
or a spot, a spectroscope can separate this light
into its component parts and thus lay bare a
dozen meanings hidden from the eye.

To the physicist the spectroscope has served
as a powerful atomic probe, for with its aid in
analyzing the light emitted by atoms he has de-
duced much about their structures. He has
found that light is emitted when atoms or mole-
cules lose energy as the result of transitions of
an electron from a position involving greater
energy to one involving less; the spectroscope
reveals the exact size of the photon which an
atom emits under such circumstances, and by
means of the quantum theory the physicist can
picture what is going on in a tiny atomic system
which is not more than ten or twenty billionths
of an inch in diameter.

To the chemist, the biologist or the metallur-
gist, the spectroscope serves as a sensitive ana-
lytical instrument, to detect small amounts of
impurities, or to analyse the atomic constitution
of a speck of matter from its emission of light,
or its moleeular constitution from its absorption
of light. Nor is the use of the instrument as a
thermometer confined to the astronomer, for the
engineer who wishes to determine the tempera-
ture of engine fiames need only put a trans-
parent window into the cylinder of a motor and
use the spectroscope to study the light which is
emitted.

P.R.M.

386

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

A NEW METHOD FOR STAINING CHROMOSOMES AND NUCLEOLI

Many of the advances in biology have
depended on the development of a new
technique or method. This is particu-
larly true in cytology, where everything
depends on getting a clear picture which
will show the exact relationship of the
parts studied. Further advances in the
study of nuclear structure are made pos-
sible by the development of a new stain-
ing method which sharply differentiates
the nucleoli from the chromosomes in a
cell nucleus.

With the gentian violet-iodine staining
method, which has been widely used by
cytologists during the last fifteen years,
the chromosomes and nucleoli stain alike,
whereas with the new Peulgen-Light
green stain the chromosomes are red and
the nucleoli green. This result was at-
tained by first staining with Feulgen,
which is a specific stain for chromatin.
The chromosomes are stained a bright
red and all other parts of the cell are
unstained. This is followed by the use
of a mordant — 5 per cent, sodium carbo-
nate — ^which gives the nucleoli an alka-
line reaction. The material — sections or
smears of tissue — is left in the mordant-
ing solution for an hour or more. The
most satisfactory length of time varies
from one genus of xda>nts to another.

After thoroughly washing out the
sodium carbonate, the material is stained
for about ten minutes in an alcoholic
solution of light green. This stains only
the nucleoli and the matrix, or sheath
around the red chromatin core of the
chromosomes.

In recent years it has been shown that
the nucleoli arise from chromosomes
which have a satellite. This is a small
globule of chromatin attached by an ex-
tremely delicate thread to the end of the
chromosome proper. The nucleolus takes

its origin, at least in many cases, from
the tip of the chromosome at the point
where the satellite thread emerges. With
the new stain the origin and growth of
the nucleolus can be followed from its
earliest stages. In early telophase of
mitosis all the nucleoli are separate, each
being produced by a different -chromo-
some. Such chromosomes have either a
satellite or a secondary constriction pro-
ducing a nucleolus farther from the end
of the chromosome.

It is now known that in a number of
genera, such as Oenothera and Oryza,
which are generally regarded as ordi-
nary diploid plants with only two sets of
chromosomes, there are four chromo-
somes which each produce a nucleolus.
Later, in the resting stage of the nucleus,
they are generally fused into one. The
presence of four is an indication that
these plants are secondary tetraploids in
which some of the chromosomes are rep-
resented four times. In rice particu-
larly we have shown that the twelve pairs
of chromosomes must have been derived
from an ancestral condition with five
pairs, which is the basic chromosome
number for the whole grass family. It
has similarly been shown that four is
the basic number for the Leguminosae.

The Feulgen-Light gre^n stain has
now been applied to a long series of
plant genera. It is found that the study
of satellites and nucleoli by this method
throws a great deal of light on the origin
and relationships of plant species and
genera and is of great value in the trac-
ing of nuclear phylogeny. It is believed
that the stain will be equally useful in
animal cytology.

R. Bugolbb Gates

PitorxsBOE Of Botany,

UNivBasiTT OF London

SALT OP THE EARTH

A RECENT report by 0. F. Poindexter cation, a marvelous story written by the
and R. A. Smith on the enormous salt geologic processes some 400 or 600 mil-
deposits in Michigan contains, by impli- lion years ago.

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

387

in the Salina Basin alone there is an
area of about 30,000 square miles in
which deposits of salt have an aggregate
thickness ranging from 500 to 1,200 feet.
Conservative estimates place its total
volume at 3,000 cubic miles, and its
weight at 480,000 million tons. There is,
therefore, no occasion for worry lest salt,
an indispensable natural resource, will
be exhausted, for this deposit alone is
sufficient for the physiological needs of
the whole human race, at its present
numbers, for 200 million years. In addi-
tion, there are other comparable deposits
of salt in various parts of the earth, not
to mention enormously greater amounts
in the oceans. In some regions, however,
salt has been so scarce as to have been in
earlier days an almost precious com-
modity.

Concentrations of salt, like those of
other minerals, have been produced by
the leisurely action of geological agen-
cies. On the whole the history of salt
deposits has been comparatively simple.
From very ancient geological times, at
least 2,000 million years ago and possibly
from a billion years farther back, the
waters that fell as rain or snow gradually
disintegrate rocks and carried salt and
other compounds dissolved out of them
into the sea. By 500 million years ago
the oceans had acquired a considerable
degree of salinity. At that time life had
been in existence on the earth for at least
1,500 million years, during which it had
evolved from the low level of the blue-
green algae up to that of corals and trilo-
bites.

Even as early as 500 million years ago

I the lowly organisms that had lived up to
that time had been important geological
agencies and had produced astonishing
results. For example, certain forms had
^precipitated the lime that is still spread
in layers hundreds of feet thick over
areas of hundreds of thousands, of
square miles. And, too, it was certain
forms of life, bacteria, which were instru-

mental in the final concentrations of iron
in such ores as those of the Lake Superior
District. But salt had a more lowly ori-
gin ; it was precipitated from the vanish- *
ing waters of drying seas. At the begin-
ning of the Ordovician period, about 450
million years ago, nearly two thirds of
what is now North America lay beneath
the waters of a shallow sea. For 200
million years the waters several times
alternately withdrew and spread widely
over the continental area. In some of
these great oscillations there were arid
periods during which the water was
evaporated from land-locked areas, leav-
ing behind the salts that were dissolved
in it.

Many substances are in solution in sea
water, the most abundant of which is
ordinary salt. There is, in addition,
about one seventh as much magnesium
chloride, one sixteenth as much mag-
nesium sulfate and lesser amounts of
compoimds of calcium and potassium.

If these various substances were left
mixed together by vanishing seas, the
difficulty of separating them now would
be great. But they are precipitated at
such different concentrations that often
in the slow process of evaporation they
are almost completely separated. It is
because of this fact that there is now in
Michigan enough almost pure salt to
meet the requirements of the human race
for many tens of millions of years.

The fact that the salt in Michigan was
deposited during long arid periods raises
the question whether the rains may not
fail again over most of North America.
No scientist would assert that they will
not cease to fall in some remote future,
perhaps for long intervals. But there is
no Itbought that the droughts of the past
few years is the beginning of such an
era, for it is almost certainly a temporary
deficiency produced by many minor
cycles. For the near future, there is
little danger; in long intervals great

388

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ehanges are probable, changes that may
make large areas of the earth uninhab-
itable by higher forms of life.

Indeed, we may look beyond the earth
for possible causes of disaster, because
our sun and its retinue of planets, ac-
cording to recent conclusions reached at
the Mount Wilson Observatory, make a
circuit of our galaxy in about 200 million
years. In such wide excursions among
vast nebulae and billions of stars there
are possibilities of an immersion of our

BUOENICS

While there is yet time it behooves us, as
eugeuists, to consider our attitude not only to
the war which is being waged to>day but to war
as an expedient for settling the differenees be-
tween nations. The problems are, in fact, bound
up closely together, for among the issues in this
war of opposed and utterly irreconcilable phi-
losophies not the least important is that which
divides those who believe in war as a virtue and
favor political and economic systems that turn
this virtue into a recurrent necessity from those
who regard war as a barbarism and the eradica-
tion of the causes of war as the supreme duty
of civilised men and women. By the time these
lines are published it is possible that we may
all be a little more concerned with the impact
of war on our personal Hues than with its h^u-
enee on the numbers and transmissible qualities
of generations yet unborn; but at this eleventh
hour we may still take a long-term view, fortified
in our apparently academic refieetions by the
knowledge that upon our conclusions on the wider
issue will depend in large measure the resolution,
steadfastness and spiritual conviction with which
we shall face our immediate peril.

The view that war is not necessarily dysgenic,
indeed, that it may actually favor the survival pf
the best physical and intellectual types, is
argued ably and with a commendable absence of
dogmatism in a letter published elsewhere in
this issue. The author suggests that war, being
in fact * * Nature ’s usual way of solving the prob-
lem of which body of organisms is best fitted to
survive within a certain set of circumstanoes, ”

gyatem in wide-spreading nebulous mate-
rials and even of a disastrous collision
with another star.

It is not intended, however, to empha-
sise the^istence of that bourne whence
no traveler returns,^’ for as a matter of
fact science marks out a pathway that
will be pleasant for those who take it. It
is dissipating with light the superstitious
fears that throughout history have dark-
ened the lives of mankind.

P. R. Moulton

AND WAR

may be equated with natural selection, and asks
how an expedient which ensures the survival of
'^the nation possessing the best brains and the
best bodies” can properly be described as dys-
genie. . . .

It is not necessary to consider in detail the
points at which the aniUbgy between war and
natural selection breaks down. The survival of
the fittest does not mean the survival of the best ;
it means the survival of those who are best
adapted to the cond||tonB of their environment.
When man and pa^ogenie bacteria occupy the
same ecological syklem, the death of the former
and the survival of the latter is indubitably an
instance of the survival of the fittest; but only
on the most gloomy view of human nature could
it be regarded as satisfactory proof of the sur-
vival of the best. Biologically speakiag, the
term fittest is meaningless except in relation to
some particular environment, natural or social.
In a world which regards war as desirable and
its frequent occurrence as inevitable, the more
aggressive and insensitive typos have the best
chances of ultimate survival. They are able to
devote themselves to the congenial tasks of per-
fecting the weapons of destruetioi^ while their
more imaginative and gentier neighbors engage
in the suicidal occupation of adding to the ameni-
ties and f uUness of life* But though, unhappily,
all this must be eonoeded it is not less true that
the creation of a world in which love and virtue
have a greater survival value than hatred an^
brutality is still within our power . — The Suffenit *
BeoUw (London),

THE SCIENTinC MO

MAY, 1941

ANCIENT FINGER PRINTS IN CLAY

By Dr. HAROLD CUMMINS

PROFERHOR OF MICROBCOPIC ANATOMY, TTILANR UNIVERSITY

Where men are and where men have
been there oeeur various traces, or tracks.
The traces to be considered here are of a
sinirle kind, impressions of the finpfers^
on thinjrs which have been handled or
touch€‘d. A fiufyer may leave its imprint
as a transferred film of natural skin
se(*retions or of some other medium with
which the finger has been smeared, and
if the digit is pressed into a plastic sub-
stance such as clay its impression is then
in the form of a mould, shallow or deep
ill accord with variable conditions of
imprinting. iThese moulds of human
fingers are of special interest as traces,
since in clay they may be preserved
through the centuries. A few examples
of ancient prints are presented, not only
for their intrinsic interest but to provide
the setting for discussion of a moot ques-
tion in finger-print history, as to whether
such prints in clay ever were made with
an aim comparable to that of present-day
identification.

Certain principles of identification
method must be first introduced. For
the registration of individuals, whether
in criminal or non-criminal files, impres-
sions of the digits are printed on cards,
usually in ink. All ten digits are re-
corded in orderly series and with care to
ensure that the details of the ridged skin
are clearly and. fully imprinted. Filed
according to a olassilkation of the flnger-

iTbe word ^^ilager” is osod thmughout in
the generic ■enee wliich embrseee thumlm as
w^l IS file fingers proper.

jirint patterns which admits ready refer-
ence, the card serves thereafter as a
means of proving the identity of the
individual, since the making and classi-
fying of his prints at any future date
will serve to locate that record for com-
parison. It is possible also to classify
and file separately the prints of single
digits, to facilitate identification of
finger prints found at the scene of crime.
All original record prints and all prints
taken from the person for later compari-
son naturally are made purposefully, for
identification.

The second teehnical variety of finger
prints embraces those imprinted without
intention, termed chance or accidental
impressions. These may be either latent,
formed of the skin secretions alone, in-
visible without special preparation or at
best faintly visible, or they may be of
ink, paint, blood and like materials cling-
ing to the skin. Only infrequently does
the identification worker have occasion
to deal with chance impressions in plastic
substances. It is important to empha-
size that chance prints are made, as their
name indicates, in the course of ordinary
contacts with obj^ts. The reader holds
the book open that be may read, the mur-
dm^r grasps the gun with evil purpose,
the glazier presses putty around the win-
dow glass to obtain a firm and neat seal —
but no one of these intends to be making
the finger prints which he leaves in the
act. Chance prints are all about us in
myriads, though most Of them are inoon-

FIG. 1. LATENT PRINTS ON THE BACK OF A SHEET OF CHECKS*

DEVELOPED WITH SILVER NITRATE. THE SHEET, FROM A CHECK BOOK USED IN EXECUTING SEVERAL
FORGERIES, HAD BEEN CARELESSLY HANDLED BY THE INVESTIGATORS. SUCH CHANCE IMPRESSIONS
ON PAPER MAY BE LIKENED TO IMPRESSIONS PRODUCED IN THE HANDLING OF SOFT CLAY.

spicuous or invisible. If subjected to
proper treatment, this pagj?e would reveal
impressions, just as prints were devel-
oped on the sheet of checks illustrated in
Pig. 1 — an example which is not only a
telling illustration of latent prints but a
practical warning, in that investigators
of a case of forgery carelessly handled
these checks, obscuring a source of evi-
dence with their own prints!

Having distinguished chance prints
and those made intentionally for identi-
fication, it is to be emph^ised that some
impressions are identifiable, while some
are not. To say that a print is identi-

* Fig. 1 i« being used by courtesy of M. Edwin
O’Neill and the Journal of Criminal Law and
Criminology, Fig. 3 is from Bad^, by courtesy
of the Palostino Institute of the Paeifie School
of Religion. Fig. 4 is from Laufer, by courtesy
of the Field Museum of Natural History. Fig.

5 is by courtesy of Professor A. D. Fraser. Fig.

6 is from B. 0. Bridges and Fig, 7 from Earl
H. Morris. Fig. 8 is by courtesy of the Middle
American Research Institute, Tulane University.
Photograph by Roy Trahan.

fiable does not mean necessarily that the
identity of the maker can be disclosed,
this being obviously impossible in the
absence of some form of registration for
reference; the point is simply that the
print is technically adequate for com-
parison with another, to determine
whether it is from the same digit or a
different one. When prints are recorded
for identification it is to be expected that
they satisfy that purpose, but chance
prints are often useless for comparison,
since the markings of the skin ridges
may be indecipherable or the available
area lacking in sufficient details to estab-
lish identification. Ink prints, or devel-
oped latent prints, may be mere smudges
or blobs, and prints in clay may be simi-
larly devoid of ridge details, thus not
being identifiable. We are to be con-
cerned with both classes. In Fig. 2 there
will be seen a complete and clear impres-
sion printed in ink, typical of the tech-
nique of identification records. The

ANCIENT FINGER PRINTS IN CLAY

391

imprinted lines, which represent the
summits of the delicate skin ridges, ex-
hibit numerous ‘‘minutiae’* — ^forkings,
endings and abbreviations in length.
Even a portion of such a print is
identifiable when it contains a sufficient
number of ridge details, individually
distinctive as they are. The companion
illustration is a blob, utterly useless for
identification. With regard to prints in
clay, it may be noted that occasionally
(as in Pigs. 3, 4, 6) they are identifiable,
while others (Pig. 6) are featureless ex-
cavations in the clay, corresponding in
their lack of individual markings to the
blob made with ink.

Its documented history dating only
from the latter part of the nineteenth
century, the present finger-print system
may have originated quite indepen-
dently of finger-print practices followed
long ago in the East. The history of
these practices has been pieced through
the efforts, among others, of the late
Berthold Laufer, in his “History of
the Finger-print System,”* of Robert
Heindl, in the historical sections of
“System und Praxis der Daktylo-
skopie,”* the most comprehensive hand-
book in its field, and of George Wilton,
in the recent work, “Fingerprints: His-
tory, Law and Romance.”* Their ac-
counts contain descriptions of numerous
instances of fiinger marks applied to
deeds, contracts of loan and other docu-
ments; one example will suffice to illus-
trate the characteristic employment of
these marks.

Wilton cites a Chinese contract of loan
executed nearly twelve hundred years
ago, bearing the prints of witnesses as
well as those of the parties to the con-

a Smithsonian Inst., Annual Beport, 1912, pp.
681-^52. This was followed up in a briof noto
by Laufer, Science^ n.(i., 45: 504-^05, May 26,
1917.

3 Berlin and Iiei|UBig: Walter de Gruyter and
Company, 8rd ed^, 1927.

^Londopi Edinburgh and Glasgow: William
Hodge and Company, Ltd., 1988.

tract. Appended to the contract there is
the formula: “The two parties have
found this just and clear, and have
affixed the impressions of their fih|[ers
. . it concludes, still according to the
Chavannes translation of the Chinese,
“pour servir de marque.” Assuming
that Chavannes is correct in his transla-
tion, it appears that “pour servir de
marque” must have meant only “to
serve as a mark [token, or sign],” and
that the sense of distinctiveness in
Laufer ’s (1917) rendering of this phrase
from the French (“to serve as a distinc-
tive mark**) is gratuitously introduced.

Wilton, who examined the document
which bears the prints, remarks :

Dr. Giles states that he is of the opiniou that
the Dngonnarks shown upon it aro blobs and of
no use for identidcation purposes. ... To tho
eye of a layman, the fingermarks ... do resem-
ble blobs. With the magnifying glass, it is
diificult to diseem finger-ridge lineations. Tho
marks seem to have been made more by the tips
than by the bulbs or pads of the fingers. I do
not think, however, that it would be reasonable
to infer from the examination of this particular
document that all fingermarks upon writings of
the period in question were so blobbed as to
make identificdtion impossible.

Certainly Wilton is justified in insist-
ing against any inference that prints
nmde at that time were invariably mere
blobs. Some examples, indeed, long
antedating the inauguration of the
■finger-print system as we know it, are
identifiable prints. It would be falla-
cious to assert positively that a print was

not made for identification because it is

BIG. 2. FINGBBPRINT COMPAMBON

A CLBAE PRINT, ICADB IN INK, 8SOW1NC RIDOB PR-
TAILS, AND Ap UNIDRNTIFUBLB BLOB.

392

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

FIG. 3. ON PALESTINIAN LAMP

A CLEAR IDENTIFIABLE PRINT ON A FRAOMBNT OF
A AlOltLDED PALESTINIAN liAUP (BYZANTINE
PERIOD, THE FOURTH OR FIFTH CENTURY A.D.).

■ ''' ^1. .

•' ■ t 'j j .

PIG. 4. A CHINESE SEAL OP CLAY
madk not latbr than the tried OKNTUET B.C.

THE OBVEESK 8tOB OF THIS CLAY PAT BBAE8 A
SEAL-IMPRESSED NAME, PEEStTMAHLY THAT OF
THE MAKER. WAS THE THUMB PRINT APPUED AS
AN IDENTIFYINO MARK IN THE CURRENT SENSE OF
FINOEK-PRINT IDENTIFICATION!

exceptional, blobs are not unknown even
to-day in official flles.^ It must be admit-
ted that even if ancient records do bear
an overwhelming majority of blobs,
rather than clear prints, the frequency
of the fault is not a final argument for
lack of intention to make identifiable
prints. . Borrowers and lenders thus
signed their notes, buyers and sellers
applied prints to deeds, and in these and
other transactions the prints of witnesses
sometimes were added. If there were a
finger-print science in their times expert-
ness in its methods hardly could have
been a qualification of many signers,
busily occupied with other affairs !
Even now there are persons who have
the notion that any finger mark, however
blurred, is fit for identification, and the
product of their finger-printing might
be no better.^* On the other hand, it does
not follow that the presence of clear de-
tails such as are found occasionally on
other ancient documents, in China and
elsewhere, is in itself evidence that the
prints were made for true finger-print
identification. Both clear prints and
blobs alike may have established, in some
instances at least, only what may be
designated a ‘Hoken identification.’’

Prints in old clay ware figured in the
history of modern identification methods,
to the extent that one of the pioneers of
finger-print science was led to his inves-
tigations through an interest first stimu-
lated by observing them. In 1880 Henry
Faulds (1843-1930), a Scottish medical
missionary then stationed in Japan, ad-
dressed a letter to the editor of Nature^
Among other matters of less immediate
practical bearing^ this letter directed
attention to the usefulness of prints for

0 For example, M. Kdwin O’Neill (Jour, Crim»
Law and Criminal,, 30: 029-940) reproduces the
thumb print! accompanying the medical exami-
nation of a Bailor in the Merchant Marine. The
prints are solid blobs of ink which, like that
shown here in Fig. 2, would be utterly valueless
for identifieation.

• Nature, 22 : 606, Octe^r 28, 1880.

ANCIENT FINGER PRINTS IN CLAY

393

personal identification, and in it Faulds
related the genesis of his interest in
finger impressions :

In looking over some specimens of prehis-
toric” pottery found in Japan, 1 was led, about
a year ago, to give some attention to the charac-
ter of certain fingermarks which had been made
on them AvhUe the clay was still soft. Unfortu-
nately, all of those which hnp])ened to come into
my possession were too vague and ill-defined to

inception of the modern identification
system in the latter part of the nine-
teenth century. It is possible, therefore,
that imprints on plastics may have beefi
applied in some instances to serve for
personal identification in the current
sense, though definite evidence support-
ing this possibility would be difficult to
produce. For the sake of brevity, the

FIG. fi. FRAGMENTS OF TWO FIGURINES FROM SELEUCIA, MESOPOTAMIA

THE IMPRESSIONS 4RK ON THE INNER PACES OP THE ITOUAINES, THEIR SUCCESSIONS SUOOSBTIKO
THE MOST NATURAL AND EFFECTIVE WAY OF APPLYING THE SOFT CLAY WITHIN A MOULD OF IRREGU-
LAR FORM. ENLARGED ONE AND TWO-THIRDS TIMES.

be of much use, but a comparison of such finger-
tip imprcaiions made in recent pottery led me
to observe the characters of the skin-furrows in
human fingers generally.

Anticipating the dealing with indi-
vidual examples of finger prints on an-
cient clay seals and tablets, pottery,
figurines and bricks, a preview of the
possible explanations of their occurrence
may be helpful. (1) It must be granted,
as Laufer has pointed out, that there was
recognition of the individual variability
of finger-print characteristics before the

present-day method will be termed
finger-print ideniifieation; finger prints
made purposefully for identiflcatiou ac-
cording to its conventions will be desig-
nated identifying prints, (2) The sym-
bolic associations of the fingers (and
hands) appear to have been the motiva-
tion of at least some of the ancient
reconlings of finger marks, and some
imprints in clay doubtless were of that
import. The sense of ‘ ‘ identification ’ ^ is
here quite different from that of finger-
print identification. The primary in-

894

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

tent of such imprints would be simply
to register marks made hy the person,
establishing the ^‘sympathetic relation”
as it is termed by Laufer, and if they
proved occasionally to be identifiable
prints that result was fortuitous. The
finger prints, identifiable or blobbed,
which served the purpose may be called
token finger marks, and the “identifica-
tion” afforded by them a token identifi-
cation, (8) Since fingers are ever-ready
tools it would not be surprising if they
were used in certain instances for the
making of recognition marks on plastic
objects. Variable placings and different
numbers of fingers plunged into the still
soft clay of bricks, pots and other objects
would make it possible to identify the
makers or to designate other sortings of
the products. Such marks will be distin-
guished as finger signs. But it should
be apparent that finger signs are by no
means comparable to the identifying
prints of finger-print identification.
Their purpose would have been accom-
plished as well if sticks instead of fingers
had been employed for marking, unless
there were involved as well some element
of token identification. (4) Finall,y>
considering that plastic clay has been
worked into form by the fingers, it must
be evident that a share of the prints
preserved in the finished objects^ are
chance impressions of these natural tools*
Let us call tliem chance prints, signify-
ing that as prints they were not applied
purposefully, notwithstanding purpose^
in the act of grasping or modeling the
soft clay.

In connection with finger prints in
clay Laufer states:

Finger marks may naturally ariae anywhere
where potters handle bricks or jars, but every
expert in Anger prints will agree with me that
these are so superficial as to render them useless
for identification. A clear and useful impres-
sion in clay presupposes a willful and energetic
action, while the potter touches the clay but
slightly. However this may be, we are not will-
ing to admit as evidence for a finger-print sys-

tem any finger marks of whatever kind oeeurriag
in pottery of any part of the world, unless strict
proof can be furnished that such marks have
actually served for the purpose of identification.

Laufer ’s general position on the evi-
dential status of prints in pottery offers
no ground for disagreement, but he is
mistake^ in the belief that chance prints
on pottery are invariably useless for
identification, as will be shown by ex-
ample. And he is mistaken also in his
analysis of the mechanical factors in-
volved in the production of clear prints.
On the basis of experiments with clay
and other plastics, and by observation
of imprints in pottery, the vrriter holds
that so long as the imprinting finger is
applied without dragging which would
blur the print, the important factors
determining clearness of the print are
the texture and consistency of the clay.
A coarse-textured clay will not yield
prints which are identifiable, nor can
even a fine clay if it is either of yety
thin consistency or too firm. Attention
may be recalled, finally, to the two con-
notations of the word identification.
The “strict proof” demanded by Ijaufer,
“that such marks have actually served
for the purpose of identification,” is not
lacking if we broaden the sense of the
word to include token identification.
Some ancient prints on clay, like those on
the Chinese documents and the clay seal
mentioned below, are pedigreed associa-
tions with particular persons, recorded
with the object of “identifying” those
persons with their contractual obliga-
tions. “Identification” of this sort
bears a close relationship to the signing
of a document by an illiterate. Neither
a finger-print blob nor the illiterate’s
cross mark possesses qualities by which
identification can be established objec-
tively, yet each carries weight as a sign
of bodily action of the individual.
Finger-print identification is entirely
objective, quite unrelated to the aims and
procedures of the token identification

ANCIENT FINGER PRINTS IN CLAY

395

FIQ. 6. AZli^C FI0TTBE8, SHOWING DEPREiSSIONS IMPBESSED BY DIGITS

ON TBX XITSSSS SUKFAOl (BNLABOXD ONE AND ONE TOIBO nilBS).

396

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

effected by applying any sort of finger
mark.

Among the clay objects which are of
interest in connection with finger-print
history are Chinese seals. Laufer pre-
sents an extensive discussion of such
seals, and from his account the following
information is taken. Prior to about the
first century b.c. clay seals were used
extensively in sealing documents, writ-
ten at that period on slips of bamboo or
wood, official letters and packages. Some
among, the several specimens specially
described by Laufer were moulded
around fingers, and there is one, thought
to have been made not later than the
third century b.c., bearing a firm, clear
thumb print (Pig. 4). Laufer points
out that the application of. such a print
and the manipulations of other examples
indicate that *Hhe primary and essential
point in these clay seals was a certain
sympathetic relation to the fingers of the
owner of the seal.^^ He continues:

Here wc muBt call to mind that the Beal in itH
origin was the outcome of magical ideas, and
that, according to Chinese notions, it is the
pledge for a person good faith; indeed, the
word yin, < ‘ seal, ' * is explained by the word nin,

faith.” The man attesting a document sacri*
deed dguratively part of his body under his oath
that the statements made by him were true, or
that the promise of a certain obligation would
be kept. The seal assumed the shape of a bodily
member ; indeed, it was immediately copied from
it and imbued with the flesh and blood of the
owner.

This thumb-print specimen, of all the
imprints in clay known to me, is the only
instance which seems entitled to serious
consideration as a possible identifying
print. Its importance is therefore such
that Laufer ^s interpretation should' be
stated in his own words :

It is out of the question tliat this imprint is
due to a mere accident caused by the handling
of the clay piece, for in that case we should see
only faint and imperfect traces of the Anger
marks, quite insuffleient for the purpose of
identification. This impression, however, is deep
and sunk into the surface of the clay seal and
beyond any doubt was effected with intentional

energy and determination. Besides this techni-
cal proof there is the inward evidence of the
presence? of a seal bearing the name of the owner
in an archaic form of characters on the opposite
side. This seal, 1 centimeter wide and 1.2 centi-
motors long, countersunk 4 millimeters below the
surface, is exactly opposite the thumb mark, a
fact clearly pointing to the Intimate afliUation
between the two. In reasoning the case out
logically, there is no other significance possible
than that the thumb print belongs to the owner
of the seal who has his name on the obverse and
his identification mark on the reverse, the latter
evidently serving for the purpose of establishing
the identity of the seal. This case, therefore, is
somewhat analogous to the modern practice of
afiixing on title deeds the thumb print to the
signature, the one being verified by the other.
This unique specimen is the oldest document so
far on record relating to the history of the
finger-print system.

Not all these views withstand close
examination. It is probable that the
maker of the clay tablet was the person
whose thumb print and seal it bears,
though it is not impossible that two per-
sons executing a contract might have
cooperated in making the seal, the one
impressing his name and the other his
thumb. There is no reason to doubt
that the thumb was impressed intention-
ally. Except in the area of the thumb
print, the reverse face is rough, showing
no evidence of having been surfaced
with fingers or a tool. While this .state
might be regarded as an indication of
purposeful recording of the print,
neither it nor the quality of the print
denotes unquestionably the designed
recording of an identifiable signature.
The possibility exists, of course, but
there is nothing to support the interpre-
tation that this particular impression is
more meaningful as an evidence of early
finger-print identification than are the
other seals, and much to say Against it,
including Laufer ’s own statements on
the symbolic significance of s^alt^ g^-
erally.

Fingers were sometimes impressed in
ancient bn<dcs of various localities, as in
those from the stm^ehouse of the first

ANCIENT FINGER PRINTS IN CLAY

397

FIG. 7. BHEBD8 OF IITDENTBD OOBRUGATED POTS, ENLARGED
rsou THE UPUTA VAUJCT OF KEW XSXICO (EAKLT PUEBU) til PBEIOO, 90(K-1100 A.D.). THE
TRUVB litPBBEBIOMS BESirtT PBOU USE OF THE BIOIT AB AN INDEMTINO tOOL.

398

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

kini? of the Lagash dynasty in Meso-
potamia, dating from about 3000 B.o.
These bricks are described by Handcock^
as being plano-convex in shape, each
bearing a digital impression on the con-
vex face. Maspero,® in a general char-
acterization of Egyptian bricks, states:
** Bricks from the royal brickyards are
occasionally stamped with the cartouche
of the reigning sovereign, those from
private factories are marked with one or
more conventional signs in red ink, a
print of the moulder’s finger or the
maker’s stamp. The greater number

have no mark.” Birch** describes the
unburnt bricks of the Southern pyramid
at Dashour as mostly having been made
of rubbish, containing broken red pot-
tery and pieces of stone.” He asserts
that: ”The kinds were distinguished by
various marks made hy the finger

[italics mine] on the brick before it was
dry. In one instance this seems to have
been effected by closing the fingers and
dipping their points into the clay.”

Birch describes also Chaldean bricks,

bearing ” impressions of the five fingers,
or of a circle, probably the brickmaker’s
private marks.” Some writers on the
history of finger-print science have cited
these marks on bricks as evidence of
early employment of finger prints for
identification. Aside from the fact that
rough materials used in brickmaking
l)reclude identifiability of the prints,, it
is apparent that if the marks served as
recognition signs their serviceability
must have been on an entirely different
basis from that of finger-print identifi-
cation.

The Assyrian clay tablets on which
were recorded in cuneiform symbols the
terms of contracts, deeds and similar
agreements bear ‘'signatures” both in

f ^ Mefiopotainian Archaeology. ' * New York ;
G. P. Pntnam’8 Sons, 1926.

« * * Manual of Egyptian Archaeology. * ’ New
York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1926.

History of Ancient Pottery.” London:
John Murray, 1873.

the form of personal seals and digital
impressions (Maspero).^** The fact that
at least some of the impressions are but
indents of the finger nails seems to point
to their nature as token identifications.

The late William Frederic BadS, as
director of the Palestine Institute of
Archaeology, conducted at Tell en-
Nasbeh excavations which have led to the
identification of the area as the site of
Benjaminite Mizpah, the capital of
Judah after Jerusalem was destroyed by
the Babylonians, 586 b.o. The excava-
tions are exemplars of systematic
method in the removal and careful in-
dexing of enormous quantities of arti-
facts, of which pottery fragments repre-
sent a large share. Many of these
fragments bear identifiable finger prints,
on handles at the extremities where
they had been attached to vessels and on
the inside surfaces of moulded lamps,
the latter being the more nearly perfect
impressions. One print, here copied in
Fig. 3, has been used by Bad^ as the
frontispiece of his book, “A Manual of
Excavation in the Near Bast,”*^ where
its laconic label, “Finger print of a
potter,” tells all that can be said as to
the identity of the man, only that it was
he who moulded the ware. But repeti-
tions of the prints on many different
pieces tell further that it was this same
forgotten potter who made them all — a
finding which has been put to use in
dating the origin of confused debris.

In discussing the prints found by
BadS, Bridges^^ expresses his judgment
that “these impressions were obviously
intentional and, no doubt, represented
the workman’s individual trade-mark.”
The implication of the context is that
the trade-mark would have been identi-

n><<Life in Ancient Egypt and Assyria.”
New York; D. Appleton and Company, 1899.

University of California Press, 1934.
(Bad^’s work is reviewed by an anonymous
writer in The Sdeniifio American, vol. 152,
1985.)

19 Finger Print Magasine, 18: 11, 1937.

ANCIENT FINGEE PRINTS IN CLAY

399

fiable as a finger print, though Bad^ has
been quoted elsewhere'^ as saying: “I do
not for a moment believe that the potters
were aware that their finger prints had
the distinctiveness which is now recog-
nized in the finger-print system. It is the
place and arrangement of the impres-
sions which served as distinguishing
marks to them. This view throws quite
a different light on the significance of
the prints in question; if serving iis
“ trade-marks/ ' it was not as finger
prints per se that they proved useful,
for if only their placing and arrange-
ment supplied the identifying signs
scratches or other markings could have
served as well. It is not open to proof,
of course, that the prints were impressed
for this purpose. Regularity of their
positions in the output of a particular
potter, which is suggested in Baders
comment, might signify nothing more
than regularity of habit in the manipu-
lations of potting. In attaching a handle
the potter must needs have impressed a
thumb or finger in joining it and the ves-
sel with a firm bond. His intention cer-
tainly was to join them, but the imprint
was a by-product of the process. Like-
wise in moulding a lamp or other vessel,
the intention was to determine a particu-
lar form, and prints would have been
impressed in the contact.

In a study of the technology of Pecos
wares, pnxlucts of our own prehistoric
Southwest, Miss Anna 0. Shepard deals
with many different types, of which one
is of present interest. In the construc-
tion of this type, coiled pottery, clay is
manipulated into Kllhin roll which is
coiled and welded in a continuous wall.
The marks incident to this method of
manufacture are effaced in the making
of a smooth-finished vessel, but they may
be retained, the successive coils then

18 Sdfnce Newn Lett eft October 27, 19,34.

1* Pottery of Peoos <A. V. Kidder). Papers
of the Booth western Expedition, No. 7, Vol. 2,
Part 2. Yale University Press, published for
Phillips Academy, 1986.

showing as horizontal corrugations or
ribs on the surface. In the process of
coiling decorative indentions may be
added, these being depressions spaced at
regular intervals on the coil, made with
either a digit or tool. The pottery to
which I shall refer is both corrugated
and indented, the indentions having been
made by the edge of the thumb. Two
sherds are illustrated in Pig. 7. The one
uppermost in the figure is of peculiar
interest, not that the sherd is more note-
w'orthy than the other but because of an
accessory feature of the illustration.
The photographer, quite unaware that
his technique would make the picture the
more useful in this discussion, had posed
the sherd by pressing it against a lump
of plasticine or similar material. The
mass had been kneaded into convenient
form to serve as a support, and as will
be noted even in the lack of sharp focus
at this deeper level, the plasticine bears
clear impressions of the skin features of
the photographer’s hand. Being chance
impressions, made in the process of an
operation designed for another purpose
than to produce the prints, they are ex-
actly analogous to the more durable
prints in the accompany infe piece of
pottery.

In keeping with her thoroughgoing
attack in otlier particulars of ceramic
technology, Miss Shepard has investi-
gated these imprints with care, and she
finds that they throw light on the opera-
tions of pottery-making. The directions
of the lines impressed by the skin ridges
at the edge of the digit admit reconstruc-
tion of the method by which the coil was
welded and indented. This finding, sig-
nificant as it is in historical ceramic
technology, is not related to the aim in
citihg the corrugated indented pottery.
Of interest at the moment is the bearing
of the thumb impressions on questions
of finger-print history. Small as they
are, and though they represent the mar-
gin of the thumb rather than the ball

400

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

FIG. 8. IMPRINT ON CLAY HEAD

A CLEAR IMPRIKT ON THE REVERSE SURFACE OF
AN ANCIENT CLAY HEAD (MEXICO), THE FIGURE
HAD BEEN MOULDED IN TWO PIECES, AND THE IM-
PRINT WAS CLEARLY MADE IN THE PROCESS OF
JOINING THEM. ENLARGED FOUR TIMES.

where the pattern is located, the areas
of impression in some examples show a
few ridge details, which naturally are
repeated time after time in the imprints
of the digit. While the limited number
of ridge details would not justify a posi-
tive identification under the ordinary
conditions, their repeated occurrence on
prints of the same sherd is itself strong
eviden(?e that they were made by one
potter ! The prints thus are identifiable,
with reservations, but they were not
made for identification. They were im-
pressed in a potting method which makes
use of the thumb as a tool. They are the
exact equivalent, in origin, to impres-
sions found, for example, on the edges
of some old Roman pieces, Digits were
employed in the making of scalloped
borders, the finger prints resulting as the

scallops were shaped. They are chance
prints, no more significant from the
standpoint of finger prints recorded for
identification than are the short-lived
impressions left by the cook in crimping
the edge of a pie.

In an account dealing with small clay
figures of Aztec manufacture, recently
excavated in southern Texas, B. C.
Bridges'* considers that the impressions
of fingers present on some of them may
have been made as identifying marks,
though he adds the qualifying reserva-
tion that it WHS sometimes through
accident,'^ as W’ell as “often by design,
fthat] the maker must have left upon
these earthen forms the trademark of his
finger prints. “ Of the seven specimens
illustrated in his article, three bear
finger impressions. Through his kind-
ness I have received copies of the original
photographs, from which two examples
have been selected for reproduction
(Pig. 6). Both are heads, and each
shows on its reverse surface the mould
of a digit. I have examined a large
series of similar figures, in the Middle
American Research Institute at Tnlane
TTniversity and elsewhere. Frequently
the reverse surfaces of the objects bear
excavations which clearly arc impres-
sions of fingers. But their occurrence,
vrhether on heads of the type cast in clay
moulds or on hand-modeled figures, leads
only to the conclusion that the imprints
are to be explained simply as chance
marks of manufacture. At least some of
the figures were cast in moulds, and the
manufacturing significance of the indent
of a thumb or finger is readily apparent.
In fk) casting a small head the most
natural procedure would be to use a
digit in pressing the soft clay into the
mould. In many specimens the finger
imprints lack signs of the skin ridges,
as if rubbing had effaced them or the
clay were not of optimum consistency
and texture to register these details.

Finger Print Magaeine, 20: 8, 1038.

ANCIENT FINGER PRINTS IN CLAY

401

One head which shows details was con-
structed in two pieces — ^the head proper
and head-dress being joined after model-
ing. The details of the skin markings,
reproduced in Pig. 8, are fairly clear.
The imprint, far from having an identi-
fying or symbolic connotation, is so
placed on the back of the figure that its
origin as a chance imprint produced in
the joining of the two pieces is indisput-
able, as are those observed on a Toltec
figurine, obviously associated with the
joinings to the torso of the separately
modeled head, arms and legs.

Through the kindness of Professor A.
D. Fraser, of the division of archaeology
at the rniversity of Virginia, I am per-
mitted to refer to an excerpt from an
uni)ublished manuscript and to repro-
duce two photogra])hs of finger prints
impressed in clay. He writes :

But occasidimlly tlio potter inny iinpreHB his
fliigcrB in tlio clay after the wheel *r revolutioiiH
have ceased; or he may jab a finger down hard
against the interior of the ary hallos for the pur-
pose of duttening the exterior surface of the
bottom, and thus supply us with the desired
impression. ... In the firing of Homan terra
Mffiltntat the bowls were usuaUy stacked one
within the other and were supported on the
finger-tips of tlie workman as they wore placed
in the kiln. As a result their under surfaces
bear numerous prints; but these, owing to the
condition of the glaze, as has been explained
above, are in almost all cases mere smudges.
But occasionally one is seen whose pattern is
reasonably distinct. Our richest field for the
study of dactyloscopy amid ancient ceramic
products is found undoubtedly in the interior
of figurines and lamps. As the figurine is the
product of the hand of the coroplast, or of the
hand aided by small modelling tools, the print-
smearing whecd is not in evidence. The same
thing is partly true of the ancient lamp and the
plastic vase. . . • Frequently we find well-
defined prints in their interiors. ...

Two of Professor Fraser ^s specimens,
of Mesopotamian origin, are shown in
Fig. 6 , The photographs represent in-
terior surfaces of fragments of figurines,
each showing the inching along” of the
potter’s fingers as he pressed the soft
clay into a mould. Again these finger

prints are obviously nothing more than
tool marks. Wilhelmina van Ingen, in
discussing similar figurines from the
same locality, makes specific references
to prints occurring on individually de-
s(?ribed examples and adds the following
general comment on the method of manu-
facture.

In the simplest uf the mouldmade agurines
the wet clay was pressed into u single mould,
which gave the impression of one side of the
figure only, usually the front. . . . The back
was either roughly shaped by hand to be con-
cave or convex, in which the maker 's fingerprints
are visible, or pared with an instrument. — In
this x>i'oces8 [the use of a double mould] sepa-
rate moulds were used for the front and back
halves of the figurinf^ The clay was pressed
into each half of the mould, sometimes in sev-
eral layers, to make a hollow shell (the finger-
[irints are always very clear).

There is no need to multiply instances
further, describing more objects made of
clay and extending the provenience in
geography and time of those which carry
finger impressions.'^ If not effaced by a
finishing process or otherwise, imprints
are to be found wherever plastic clay of .
suitable consistency and texture has been
handled. In considering ancient ex-
amx>]eN there is danger of reading in

‘‘.Figurines from Seleucin. on the Tigris.’^
Ann Arbor and London: University of Michi-
gan Press and Oxford University Press, 1989.

17 Among the examples recorded in the lit-
erature, additional to those mentioned in the
text; the following may be noted: (1) Chance
])rints on bases of old Homan columns prob-
ably dating from the third century, a.d. — Sir
William Turner. Jour. Anthrop. Jnst. Great
Britain and Ireland^ vol. 30, new series. III, pp.
106-107, 1900. (2) Chance prints on a small

vase of the neolithic period. — Males and M.
Orbic. Biv, d. An trap,, vol. 29, pp. 603-606,
1980-32. (8) Deep end-on excavations made

by the finger tips, as by a dibble in soil, in the
internal surfaces of Lake-dweller pots of the
Bron^ Age; from several to as many as 70
such pits occur in a single vessel; their purpose
is problematic, but one of the suggestions ad*
vanoed is the increase of heating area of
the bottoms of pots used in cooking. Meisner
[with important diseussion by Kollmann],
Arek. f. Anthrop., vol, 27, pp. 120-122, 1900-
1902.

402

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

them meanings which do not actually
exist. While the historical uncertainties
associated with their age offer a tempting
ground for speculation, the availability
of parallels in modern ceramics stands
as a constant warning that too much
license must not be allowed in interpret-
ing such finger impressions. In my pos-
session there are, for example, a tall
Holland gin bottle with finger impres-
sions so placed as to show that it was
grasped and lifted before the plastic
material had set, a clay jug with similar
markings, a pottery cup having a finger-
crimped border bearing a succession of
prints, and two small moulded teapots
which are literally covered with impres-
sions of the fingers which formed them.
In these there is not the slightest reason
to believe that the finger prints were
applied as identifying marks in an 3 >^
sense. If all the prints on old pottery

are not to be explained on a like techno-
logical basis, and many of the recorded
objects are best thus interpreted, it does
not follow necessarily that intentional
impressions of the fingers were made for
the kind of identification which is prac-
ticed to-day. The intentional impres-
sions Jail into two classes: (1) merely
symbolic personal marks, serving a token
identification; (2) marks made for rec-
ognition, by spacing or number, as a tool
might be used for that purpose. Finger-
print identification in our usage of the
term appears to have been practiced in a
simple form in times long past, but some
briefs for its claim to great age embody
‘‘evidences’’ which do not bear close
scrutiny. The history of finger-print
identification becomes shadowy as it is
traced backward, and' occasionally shad-
ows of the remote past have been forced
into standing for substance.

SCIENCE IN PEACE AND WAR

Thkrk is indeed a widespread recognition of
the general effectiveness of science. The ways
of using science and scientific men are being
slowly discovered. But the process is slow. It
would, I think, bo hastened, if certain funda-
mental truths were generally known and recog-
nized. I venture to state them in the form of
a few propositions:

1. Science, that is to say, the knowledge of
nature, is of fundamental importance to the suc-
cessful prosecution of any enterprise.

For example, a nation is obliged to moke all
possible use of scionce in preparation for war,
whether aggressive or defensive: and, again by
way of example, in the maintenance of public
health and social welfare.* Of course, science is
not alone in being a necessity in either case.

2. Science is of general application. There
are not one science of chemistry, another of elec-
tricity, another of medicine and so on : there are
not even distinct sciences of peace and "war.
There is only one natural world, and there is
only one knowledge of it.

Experience shows that an advance in knowl-
edge or technique or skill in any direction may
be based on some item of knowledge acquired
in a far distant field of research. For that rea-
son, it is necessary to resist strongly a natural
tendency for those who study seienee or apply it,
to separate into groups without mutual com-
munication.

3. Fruitful inventions are always due to a
combination of knowledge and of experience on

spot. Unless the man with knowledge is present
at the place and the time when some experience
reveals the problem to be solved ho misses the
fertilizing suggestion. Neither can the master-
ing idea suggest itsolf to the man who has the
f'Xperience only but no knowledge by which to
read the lesson that the cx}>erieueo teaches. The
man with knowledge may be a temporary or
special introduction, or, much better, he may be
the man who meets with the experience,

4, There are difficulties peculiar to the appli-
cation of science to war purposes. While the
war proceeds scientists as a body are anxious to
put all their knowledge at the service of their
country : but when the time comes they are anx-
ious to get away to their work on pure science
or the applications of science to the problems of
peace. Government may preserve and most for-
tunately has preserved a nucleus of able scien-
tific effort during the last 20 years of peace, so
that a certain connection is maintained between
these particular applications and the general
body of science, but from the very nature of
their respective occupations, and on account of
a certain secrecy which one of the two bodies is
forced to maintain, the connection is not always
strong. It can easily happen that the solution
of a particular difficulty in the war service may
lie in some piece of knowledge far away from
the immediate science of the onterprise and un-
known to those who need it ,— WiUkm Bragg
in his anniversarg address before the Mopai 8(h
oieiy of London.

LAND TENURE IN TUNISIA

INTER- AND INTRA-NATIONAL IMPLICATIONS

By Dr. RAYMOND E. CRIST

DEPARTMENT OF GEOaRAPHY, UNIVSRBITY OP ILLINOIS

Where soil ia, men grow,

Whether to weeds or flowers.

— Keats, ** Endymion,**

Even before the outbreak of the
present war, Prance has persistently
tried to ‘‘appease** Italy, in order,
primarily, to have one less frontier to
defend. Since the actual declaration of
hostilities, Italy *s leader has seemed to
be too busy just keeping his country out
of war to make demands on either Ger-
many or the Allies. But this does not
mean that Mussolini has given up all
ideas of expansion in Mare Nostrum.
Italian claims are only temporarily dor-
mant. If it became apjgarent that Ital-
ian aid were necessary to the Allies for
them to win the war a price would
certainly be placed on such aid. And
part of the price demanded by Italy
would undoubtedly be that France re-
linquish Tunisia. Has Italy *s “protec-
tive** instinct become aroused, or is the
“Lebensraum** argument used in ad-
vancing this claim? A study of land
tenure in Tunisia against its background
of history and power politics may* be
revealing.

In April, 1880, the great estate of the
Eniida, which comprised some 250,000
acres in the Sahel between Tunis and
Sousse and belonged to the General
Khayr-ed-din, was sold to a Marseilles
Company for 2,000,000 francs. The bey
of Tunis objected to the French that the
estate had been given to the general for
his own use, but that it could not be
transferred to foreigners. The sale was
held up by You^f Levy, a naturalized
English Jew, who claim^ that he o^ed
a plot of land bordering upon the Bn-
fidia, and demanded his legal right

(chefaa), as an owner of adjoining prop-
erty, to purchase the estate. England,
who had till then given Prance a free
hand, suddenly blew cold and sent bat-
tleships to Tunis to fight the French on
this i.ssue. The French allowed Levy to
remain in control rather than fight En-
gland, but they bought his “rights’* in
1882. Even before this was done Prance
had beaten Italy to the draw. On March
30, 1881, several hundred Khroumirs in
pursuit of tribal enemies in Algerian
territory killed a few Frenchmen in an
engagement with French troops. This
was nothing new — ^border raids had been
of almost daily ocfuirrence for a decade.
However, even if it was but a monot-
onous repetition of border forays, it was
the necessary “incident.** French
troops occupied Tunis, and the bey had
to sign the treaty of Bardo on May 12,
1881. Thus the climax in the last act
in the drama of creating the French
Protectorate over Tunisia was the sale
of land to non-Moslems.

Systems of Land Tenure

According to Moslem law land is theo-
retically considered not to belong to any
one. It belongs to God, whose repre-
sentative on earth is the temporal ruler,
who thus has the sole right to all “dead
lands,** t.e., those which have not yet
been “brought to life’* by man. Once
man has started to cultivate the land he
may claim himself owner, and his private
property is known as a “melk.” Both
custom and Koranic law recognize pri-
vate property, the essential element of
which is possession. Proof of possession,
according to Koranic law, consisted in
showing that one* actually occupied the

403

404

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

VINEYARDH NORTH OF TUNIS

WITH THK FICTURE8QCK NATIVE TOWN OF SIDI BOH'KAIO IN THE BACKGROUND. SIXTY PER CENT. OP
THIS LAND IS OWNED BY ITALIANS WHO HAVE DEVELOPED THEIR SMALL PLOTS PURCHASED FROM THE

great ESTATES OF FRENCHMEN.

land and used and enjoyed the fruits
thereof. But sinee this rif?ht was a re-
lifrious one, only Moslems could acquire
title to real estate. It was only in 1857
that Mohammed Bey, urged’’ by the
French and British consuls and influ-
enced by his minister, General Khered-
d ine, promulgated the ‘ ‘ Fundamental
pact,” which among other things ex-
tended the right to private property to
all inhabitants of Tunisia, whatever their
race, nationality or religion.

In any agricultural country such as
Tunisia the question of land tenure is of
fundamental importance. The system
was of course not a simple one because
of Moslem law and concepts of property,
but geographic and historic factors
added to the complications : for instance,
the Bedouins of the steppes and the des-
ert did not have the same concepts of
ownership as the sedentary populations
of the north. Furthermore, the local

leaders in many instances had by their
arbitrary actions further complicated
situations that already seemed tangled
beyond hope.

When the French entered Tunisia they
found that among the populations in the
densely settled areas of the northeast, of
the^ Sahel and of the oases the concept of
private property, or melk, was already
deeply rooted. French law could here
be readily applied, but in many cases the
title to the land was not absolutely clear
and it was necessary to secure the own-
ers in their right* According to the law
of July 1, 1886, each property owner
could demand the registration of his
property. An inquest into the papers,
deeds, wills or other papers was held
before a specially selected tribunal, and
if the verdict of this body was to the ef-
fect that the papers were valid the title
could be duly recorded in the **cons«rFa-
tion fonciere.” The title was then eon-

LAND TENURE IN TUNISIA

405

sidered to be a clear one, and a new deed
was given the owner. Prom 1885 to
1928 titles to some 1,300,000 hectares of
land were thus cleared. But this is a
relatively small amount when compared
to perhaps 9,000,000 hectares of arable
land in the Protectorate.

Acting on the Moslem principle that
the land belongs to the sovereign, many
beys had acquired large estates or had
allowed their henchmen to acquire them.
Since it was felt that these ‘^jrown-
lands,’’ so to speak, were the logical
areas for colonization they were placed
under the administration of the Depart-
ment of Agriculture of the Protectorate.
Thus it was hoj)ed that there would be
an opportunity for French colonization
on such lands, which would not arouse
the hostility of the natives. And in fact
they have in many cases been favored
by the change. A case in point is the
huge domain of Ousseltia, northeast of
Kairouan, where French colonists as well
as landless natives have been granted
land, and both have prospered. In the
vicinity of Sfax, by regulating the ‘‘sia-
line^’ lands (great estates), the French
local townspeople and even some former
Bedouins have felt secure enough in
their titles to the land to warrant their
planting millions of olive trees.

In Older to forestall the encroachment
of tlxe bey or sheik, or to prevent heirs
from dissipating an estate, or to do a
pious act, Moslem property owners often
made an ‘‘Habou'^ of their property.
The rules regulating this old Moslem in-
stitution could be complied with in two
ways: the own^r could either place the
property in trust for his heirs, using only
the income from it till his death, or he
could cut oft his heirs from all usufruct
of the. property, sometimes himself as
well, in odrer to endow some public char-
ity~UBually a mosque, school or hos-
pital. In the first case the Habou is
private and the property is administered
by the heirs or heir or by an executor.

In the second case the Habou is public
and is administered by the central offiee,
the Djemaia, of the Habous, founded in
1874. The system of public Habous is
quite similar to that of Mortmain in
Spain, where gifts in land of wealthy
persons, wills of pious members or last-
minute death-bed gifts, in the course of
centuries, made the Roman Catholic
Church fabulously wealthy in real es-
tate. And once this land was in the
hands of the church it was not only in-
alienable but tax free (hence mortmain,
^^dead hand”). Some private Habous
have become public as a result of the
death of all the heirs.

Since land in Habous comprised ap-
proximately one third of the total area
of the Protectorate the question before
the French government was to get con-
trol of some of this land in order to settle
Frenchmen on it. But bad feeling might
be aroused if the French arbitrarily took
over great areas of land and sold it to
non-Moslems. So the first step was to
give the natives living on either public
or private Habous actual possession of
their land. In many cases, although the
natives had no title at all to their plot,
their title was cleared by virtue of their
having been on the land a long time
— “occupants immomoriaux.” But the
cost of registering proi>erty is high : 5i
francs per hectare, 120 francs per plot
or parcel, besides 5J per cent, of the total
value of the property. If there are a
number of plots to be registered, the sec-
ond must pay 132 francs, and any others
198 franca. Hence many natives could
not afford to register the land on which
they lived. Finally, by government de-
cree of 1898, the sale or transfer, even to
non-Moslems, of Habous — ^inalienable ac-
cording to Moslem law — ^was legalized,
and as a result large tracts of land have
come into the hands of the Department
of Agriculture of Tunisia and have been
purchased by Frenchmen.

In the vast expanses of the steppes of

406

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

central and southern Tunisia one may
travel for miles without seeing either
towns or villages. The Bedouin tribes
that live there are wandering nomads.
They migrate north toward the moun-
tains as the advancing summer sears
their pastures and south in October or
November as occasional rains begin to
fall. Their property consists of animals,
not of land, but each tribe had grazing
rights to certain areas which were recog-
nized by neighboring tribes. Thus their
concepts of land tenure was collective
and extensive rather than private and
intensive. The individual and the tribe
had no right in the land as such, merely
in the use of it. The official French view
was that collective lands were in reality
*^dead lands,’' and, according to the de-
cree of January 14, 1901, these nomadic
tribes were granted certain rights, but
it was pointed out that the state owned
these collective lands and could dispose

of them as it saw fit. Since that time an
attempt has been made to delimit them.
Legally the natives were not allowed to
make use of the land without permission
of the government, but this has not pre-
vented them from living much as before.

In the military territory of the south,
by decree of November 23, 1918, the right
of the age-old collective use of the land
was acconled the nomads — ^probably as a
sop in keeping them pacified so they
would act as a buffer against possible
encroachment by Italy from the south.
It was not till January 23, 1935, that a
law was passed with regard to the rest of
the collective land. This law made the
registering of land the business of the
local Caidat, not of the central govern-
ment, and its object was to “guarantee
Tunisians in the peaceful possesion of
their lands.” Although land might be
alienated by an outsider, if those already
on it did not register it within a certain

SMALL VILLAGE NBAB GAPSA

DBBSRT UFB CENTBES AtOimD THE BPBINO AIN, WHIOH ALSO KEANS '*ETl/' THE SPBINQ IS

INDEED THE BYE OP THE DBSBBT.

LAND TENURE IN TUNISIA

407

NOMADS IN CENTRAL TUNISIA ON THE ROAD TO GAP8A

OLIVK PI^NTATIONB AND WHEAT FIELDS ENCROACH 17PON LAND ON WHICH NOMADS FORMERLY HAD
COLLECTIVE GRAZING RIGHTS. NOW THEY MUST PAY FOR GRAZING PRIVILEGES ON STUBBLE FIELDS.

time, still most of this land was fit only
to be used as extensive grazing land.
Hence the nomads were largely left to
live as before, except in central Tunisia.
Here Europeans began growing barley
and wheat on an extensive scale on land
which the nomads had formely grazed
over on their trek north. Now tliey had
to pay for grazing privileges — on stubble
flelds at that — where formerly their
herds had grazed for nothing, and it was
very difSeult for them to understand the
reason foi^ this change and to adjust to
these new conditions. On their part, the
landowners complain that these nomads
are the greatest thieves in the world, who
take with them when they leave anything
whicli is not liailed down.

SKTrUNG THE LaND

Once the French controlled so much
land, actually or potentially, the ques-
tion w;as to settle Frenchmen on it. But
this was no light task. Algeria was
already proving difficult, and the French
did not want to arouse another group of
natives to hostility. But this lethargy
on the part of the government had un-
fortunate conseqjfiences. A few enter-
prising men or land companies bought
up vast domains. Of the 448,000 hec-
tares owned by the French in 1B92,

416,000 hectares were owned by 16 indi-
viduals' — an average of some 60,000
acres apiece. The government made
some efforts to remedy this situation.
The public Habous and huge Moslem
estates were put on the market, and
feeble attempts at colonization were
made. By 1900 there had been some
agricultural progress, but again by a
mere handful of Frenchmen. The
alarming factor to the government was
the influx of Italians, either as laborers
or as small farmers. As early as 1881
there were 11,000 Italians in Tunisia as
against 708 Frenchmen. In the face of
this M. Jules Saurin reiterated that
Tunisia could be held only if it were
peopled by French peasants. Further
attempts at colonization were made from
1900. to 1914. 125,000 hectares of land
were sold by the government to new set-
tlers, in lots of 100 hectares or more, and
vast blocs of steppe land were distrib-
uted. But still there was little immigra-
tion of French f rom* the mother country.
Host iff those who took this land were
either already in Tunisia or came from
Algeria. And by 1914 even one third of
these people had sold their land.

Then came the World War. Many of
those who returned were not willing to

iJean **‘141 Tunisie,” p. 140.

Paris, 1030.

408

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

do all the work necessary to put their
properties into shape again; further-
more, in view of the very high prices,
the temptation to sell was very great.
In this post-war period 80,000 hectares,
one seventh of all the land held by the
French at that time, changed hands. It
was bought by the natives, and, espe-
cially in the northeastern part of
Tunisia, by the Italians.

This process of “peaceful penetra-
tion “ by the Italians in Tunisia merits
our attention. The Italian peasant ar-
rived from southern Italy or Sicily with-
out a penny, but he soon found work at
2 francs 50 a day on the large estate of
some Frenchman. He worked hard, he
lived on very little, and he put aside 40
or 50 francs a month. In 4 or 5 years
he had saved a thousand francs or so,
and with this he bought a few acres near
the farm on which he worked. Thus he
could still make a living working for
some one else while working on his own
land in his spare time. This explains
why the large French estates are so
often surrounded by tiny plots owned
and worked by Italians. At the end of
five or six years his own land was ^iro-
ducing enough for him to live on and
he could spend all his time on it; he had
become a land owner in his own right.
This miracle can be understood only in
the light of the economic and social back-
ground of the Italian. In most cases he
had come from a large estate which was
under the absolute control of the feudal
landlord, where misery and malaria were
rampant and the standard of living was
as low as during tlie Middle Ages.
Tunisia, where he could own his own
land by dint of 10 or 15 years* hard
labor, was indeed the Promised Land.
Furthermore, the Italian government
granted long-term loans to its nationals
at only 2 per cent, interest.

In view of these circumstances, the
French government was faced with the
necessity of adopting new methods in

order to attract substantial citizens.
The recipients of land had to have a
certain sum of their own with which to
start farming, and they were held
strictly to their agreements. The gov-
ernment was disposed to grant credits
to really needy farmers, and 33^ million
franco were voted to that end. And
schemes for further colonization were
elaborated.

But in spite of all French efforts
toward inducing Frenchmen to settle in
Tunisia, they have been slow in doing
so, and the number of Italians has in-
creased. The latter are in a majority
in Tunis (49,878 against 42,678 French)
as well as in Grombalia (3,859 against
1,938), in Beja (1,685 against 790) and
at Mateur (1,169 against 398). In the
region of Cap Bon, the large range
which forms the southern shore of the
bay of Tunis and from which can be seen
the island of Pantellaria (called by Mus-
solini the new Mediterranean Gibraltar),
the Italians own over 60 per cent, of the
vineyards — 13,197 hectares against 9,196
in 1921, whereas the number of hectares
owned by the French has fallen from
23,379 to 21,156 in the same period. The
Italians are also in a majority in the
region of the Kef. Furthermore, for the
Regency as a whole the percentage of the
total French population engaged in agri-
culture is very low — only 7.7 per cent,
in 1926 against 13.6 per cent, for the
Italians. Thus the French feel thgt they
are dealing with a kind of economic
boring from within.

Wages and Leases

One of the problems that has cOme up
for solution, on land owned by natives,
French and Italian, is that of labor
supply. Before 1900, and even up to
1914, there was little difficulty in finding
enough hands for ordinary unskilled
labor on the farms — and wages were very
low. The harvest season coincided with
the influx of nomads from the south.

THE! OASIS OF TOZETTB

A hove 1 UMIX <Nr OAjHA I'BX rXXBKNOX or WATXB lOUHS A nmUBlOK OP TXfflBTATION— OAIS PAUt

TXBU, (a<rrx nuod awb tboxtabias — ^ nrstiAD op BUsnauNo band, optbit two or tbsbx crops

OBOW Sn(Vl>TAWXOVSI.T ON XBX BAlfl PISCR OP OROUNA. Behw: SCENE IN THE OASIS, WHERE THE
liAND, INTENSITEIiT IRBMUITED AND PABHED, IS OWNED ALHOST EXOLOBITXI.T BT NATIVES IN VERT

SMALL PLOTS. NOTE IRBIOATION DITCHES ON BACH HftX OP EOAD.

410

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

MABKET SCENE IN TOZEUB

They did not come in f^reat numbers if
the harvest of the steppe had been good,
but if their own pastures had been
ruined by the drought they came in
droves to work in the Tell and the Sahel.
And once their summer grazing lands
were used for the extensive cultivation of
cereals it became even more urgent for
the nomads to find summer employment.
But the area in crop increases each year,
on lands owned by natives as well as by
Europeans, and many former Bedouins
have be(!ome sedentary agriculturalists".
Coincident with this there has been a
building boom in many towns where
relatively high wages have been paid.
As a result rural laborers have become
scarce. This scarcity has made itself felt
partictilarly in the vineyards and olive
orchards, where a great deal of the wOrk
must be done by hand. The cultivators
of cereals have met the labor shortage by
resorting to power farming.

Many native landlords have their land
worked under the contract known as

khammessat. The khammes is a share-
cropper who contributes nothing but his
work and who receives a fifth (some-
times a fourth) of the crop. He is
usually very poor, and the landlord
often advances him money for consum-
ers^ goods. But a fifth, or even a fourth,
of the harvest which is often poor, and
sometimes nothing at all, does not make
it possible for the share-cropper to repay
his landlord very soon. Thus often he
becomes tied in debt slavery to the farm
for as long as he lives. This system is
gradually dying out, and its place is
being taken by that of hiring day labor-
ers. But the system of wage laborers
has its dangers as w^. Under the eon-
tract of the khammessat the peasant,
who is in reality often a serf, least
must be kept alive through the slack sea-
son, so he ean work during the next har-
vest. This is not the ease with the wage
laborer. Once the harvest is over and
he is paid in cash the landlord^ respon-
sibility toward him is at an end. He

LAND TENURE IN TUNISIA

411

THE 8PHTNG WHICH FEEDS

goes to the towns and does anything
there is to do. But the slack season in
the country frequently coincides with
the slack season in town^ and the laborer
is only too likely to become a member of
the uneml)loyed proletariat with an
extremely low standard of living.

In the olive orchards an arrangement
which has proved rather satisfactory to
both landlord and tenant is the contract
known as the mgharsa. Ae(*ording to the
terms of this planting lease or contract
a certain area is leased to the mgharsi
whose task it is to clear and plant it in
olives. The mgharsi furnishes the tools
and the young olive trees, and is fre-
quently able to eke out an existence by
growing grain between the trees.
Furthermore, this cultivation is valu-
able in providing a tilth which aids in
conserving the moisture in the soil. The
proprietor may elpo aid the mgharsi with
cash, but these advances have not re-
sulted in the abuses of the khammessat.
As soon as the trees begin to bear the

THE OA818 OF EL HAMMA

mgharsi becomes owuier of one half of
the plantation. The great olive planta-
tions of the SFAX have been developed
to a large extent as a result of this union
of European capital and native labor.
Very frequently after the division of the
plantation the native eontinu<!S to care
for the trees of his former landlord, and
he receives for this service, according to
the terms of the contract called mouga-
kate, two thirds of the harvest. This
arrangement makes rather needless the
continued presence of the landlord, who
often lives in the neighboring town.
But this kind of absentee landlordism is
not what the French government is try-
ing to foster. The time may come when
it will be dif&cult to hold areas which
have been partly oymed and entirely
managed by natives for several genera-
tions.

Fbbnch, Italians, Natives

It has been a difBcult task indeed to
colonise Frenchmen in Tunisia. In the

412

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

north the Italians, with their low stand-
ard of living and their expert ability at
raising grapes and making wine, have
been able to become small landowners at
the expense of the great estates of the
French. In central and southern
Tunisia the native, with a standard of
living still lower than that of the immi-
grant from Italy, has sucjceeded in keep-
ing the growing of cereals and of olives
largely in his hands — even if the land
is often owned by the French. And in
the oases the native not only does the
work but he owns the land — with but few
exceptions. As a matter of fact division
of property has gone so far in certain
instances that different branches of an
olive tree may belong to different people.
But the net result is that the land of
Tunisia is being legally divided up by
natives and Italians, but not by French-
men.

Italians comprise over 60 per cent, of
the wine growers in Tunisia, they own
more than half the area planted in
grapes, and they produce more than half
the wine. The 77,000 hectares owned by
the Italians are a part of the most in-
tensively cultivated land in the Regency,
whereas much of the 650,000 hectares
owned by the French are in the areas
of more extensive cultivation in central
and southern Tunisia. Thus a kind of
state within a state has been in process
of gradual evolution. But this Italian
state within a French l^rotectorate has
as its very secure base the land. It is
the very stability of this Italian state
which alarms the French, who point out
that this peaceful penetration of Tunisia
by the Italians has been made possible
by French control and the security con-
comitant with it as well as by the capital
investments of the French. But the
French are realists. They know that the
Protectorate can be held only if sufficient
people are loyal to France. If non-
Frenchmen own great areas of land in
small plots they will tend to form a bloc,
the loyalty of which to Prance can with

difficulty be expected. The problem
becomes not unlike that which con-
fronted Californians with reference to
the Japanese. The French do not relish
the prospect of having to administer a
colony of natives and Italians, with only
a handful of Frenchmen — and having to
pay for the administration.

This problem has given the French
colonial administrators many headaches
and sleepless nights. The increase of
Frenchmen living in Tunisia is only
about 1,000 per year, and of the total
71,000 French registered in 1926, more
than 11,000 were naturalized foreigners.
The Maltese, naturalized under the
Franco-British agreement of 1923, be-
came citizens automatically unless they
individually elected to remain British.
They numbered 13,500 in 1921, but only
8,400 in 1925, which indicates a rather
rapid * ^ assimilation. ’ ’ An act of Decem-
ber, 1923, imperiled the nationality of
the 130,000 Italians living there at the
time. Under this act, vigorously pro-
tested by Rome, it was necessary for the
Italians to renew their nationality or
automatically become French citizens.
This act was suspended for three
months, and the suspension repeatedly
renewed till 1935. This insecurity kept
the Italians in a state of tension instead
of definitely settling their problem.
Then came the settlement of 1935. All
persons who shall be born in Tunisia of
Italian parents until 1965 are to have
Italian nationality, except that those who
are born between 1945 and 1965 may at
their option assume French nationality
at the time they attain their majority.
As early as 1931 the majority of the
Italians was apparently checked, ^^as
they then num^red 91,178, and the
French, 91,437, the slight excess indicat-
ing some success for French policy, or
at least for the census officials.^’*

The French policy of assimilation has

s Herbert Ingram Priestly, '^France Over-
seas,’’ p. 192. New York: Appleton A Com-
pany, 1988.

413

THS OASIS OF EL HAMMA

Above: dunb BMTnhHe vai oAiiis. Setoie: xdoe of oasib. tbi tunorbb aav wickbb febcbb

AMM CONSTiKrOTBB TO KEEP flAlID ntOK DRlPTtNO IK.

414

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

been countered by Italian Fascist propa-
ganda which has literally flooded the
Regency. But this propaganda may
overreach itself^ as it did last January,
1939, after the speech by Daladier in
which he pointed out that not one foot
of territory of the French Empire woxild
be ceded away, ‘‘that there is no law
against the right of Prance.’’ {II n^y a
pas de droit contre le droit de la France,)
Vituperation struck a new low in an
article of Tevcre, under the caption
“Spit on Prance.’’ Even many of the
Italians were amazed, and found it hard
to believe that their country could sanc-
tion such journalism. And the result
was a big surprise to both French and
Italians. In a short time some 5,000
requests to become naturalized French
citizens were received by civil authori-
ties. And February 15 a new paper,
II Oiornale, friendly to Prance, began
to appear in Tunis.

The exploitation of any “backward”
country by a “progressive” one means
the juxtaposition of peoples with en-
tirely different backgrounds. Friction
is apt to be more severe in town than in
the country. The French have inter-
fered as little as possible with the urban
natives in their trade, handicrafts and
customs generally. There seems to be
less conflict — open and latent — between
French and natives than between Ital-
ians and French. The letter have all the
good government jobs, they own the
mines, the great estates, the railroads
and buses, thriving businesses, the chic
restaurants. But the tens of thousands
of Italians in Tunisia patronize Italian
business men whenever possible. The
French and Italians mix little, and be-
cause of the tension each group empha-
sizes its loyalty to its mother country.
There is a plane of cleavage between the
French who own the large estates and
the small Italian landowners, but there
is what almost amounts to a No Man’s
Land between the French and Italians

who live in towns. This problem can
not be more than mentioned in a short
paper. Suffice it to say that the eloc or
“cyst” of Italians, quite large and flrmly
knit, could very well act as a Trojan
horse in case of open conflict between
Prance and Italy.

Then there is the question of the na-
tive. Without a doubt, the productive
capacity of Tunisia has increased greatly
since it has been in the hands of the
French. They have built railroads,
hundreds of miles of magnificent high-
ways, many schools and hospitals,
bridges, public buildings and, not to be
overlooked, huge barracks. The Re-
gency exports great quantities of agri-
cultural produce— olive oil, wheat, bar-
ley and wine, as well as minerals such
as iron ore and phosphate. Certainly
such a development would not have been
possible, or at least not for a long time,
under the old capricious arbitrary na-
tive regime, the taxes of which were
burdensome in the extreme. Of these
there were very many : the mejba — a poll
tax, first established in 1856 which, when
augmented in 1863, was the cause of
bloody uprisings. There was a tithe on
cereal crops which was based on Eoranci
law and was payable in kind or in money.
There was also a tithe on oils, impost
since 1730, and in the daidats of Gap
Bon and SFAX, the mradjas — a tax on
fruit and vegetables. The native gov-
ernment could never establish its budget
in advance because it was impossible to
“foretell the amount of resistance which
the taxpayers might offer.” Indeed, the
government was described as “an arbi-
trary government tempered by insurrec-
tion.”

The French have changed all this.
But has the standard of living of the
native been materially raised t Cer-
tainly not at all in the same proportion
as the productive capacity of the country
has been increased. Many great estates
export hundreds of tons of grain, which

LAND TENURE IN TUNISIA

415

h produced by the most up-to-date
equipment. Yet hordes of natives on
the verge of starvation add a few more
pounds of cereals to their larders by
gleaning in the fields owned by foreign-
ers. It would seem that too little atten-
tion has been paid to the living condi-
tions of the natives — ^they were not even
numbered; in the census of 1931 they
numbered 2,215,000. But they object
that although they help pay for and
build railroads, for instance, they have
no money with which to buy tickets on
the trains. Nor can they get too loud in
demanding liberty, equality and frater-
nity. The Preneh should never forget
that Mussolini is the self-styled De-
fender of the Moslems.

In spite of aiplihe attempts at coloni-
zation in Tunisia, French colonists lag.
Pran(*e sends in more money than men,
with the result that large estate's are still
operated by capitalists. The Pranco-
Tunisian Company, which operates the
Bnfida, employs 100,000 natives, few
Europeans. One third of the foreign-
used land is controlled by companies.
But the small owners who work their own
farms are not French, and, as has been
shown, thcijr number is increasing.
There is much truth, especially in a dry
area like Tunisia, in the statement to the
effect that ^*le meilleur Resident Gen-
eral e'est la pluie,’^ but in the long run
the race which sticks close to the soil will
probably be in possession of the country.
As long as the principle of nationality
is invoked, as long as the rulers of na-
tions, like simple peasants, believe in
rounding out their domaines,” just so
long will the Italians clamor for admin-
istration from Italy; and as long as the
natives realise that the export of great

quantities of foodstuffs and minerals
does not coincide with any appreciable
increase in their standard of living, just
so long will they clamor for self-detw-
mination. It is to be hoped that the
traditional liberalism of the French will
emerge triumphant in their dealings
with both Italians and natives. If not—
if tile natives are not allowed to voice
their natural and national aspirations
they will be somewhat justified in saying
of the French what Calcagus, the leader
of the Britons, is reported to have said
of the Romans : Auferre trucidare
rapere falsis nominibus imperium, atque
ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem apellant,
(To plunder, to slaughter, to steal, these
things they misname empire ; and where
they make a desert, they call it peace.) —
Tacitus, “Agricola,*’ Sec. 30.

A program of concessions to the na-
tives and “appeasement** for the Ital-
ians should be motivated by a sense of
justice and good-will on the part of the
French. If such a program be inau-
gurated after Prance has been weakened
by the war it will have no moral value.
It would only succeed in convincing
both natives and Italians that they could
and should make greater demands.
These the French would, to save face,
refuse to grant. All parties might con-
sider the others to be in an untenable
position and war or revolution might be
the result. The strength of continental
Prance is in a peasantry firmly rooted
to the soil, but as has been seen the
French in Tunisia have grown only
adventitious roots. Only careful di-
plomacy can prevent the Italians in
Tunisia from playing a rdle similar to
that played by the Germans in Sudeten-
land.

VITAMINS AND SENESCENCE

By Dr. A0NB8 FAY MORGAN

PROFESSOR OF HOME ECONOMICS, UNIVERSITY OF CAUFCNINIA, BBRVILBT

Vitamins have lost their mystery so
for as their chemical composition is con-
cerned but still retain some cloak of
anonymity so far as their modus oper-
andi goes. Instead of A, B, C and D we
now have carotene, thiamin, ascorbic
acid, calciferol and in addition a large
and growing flock of B vitamins besides
the original or Bj (now called thiamin).
Likewise at least two other fat-soluble
factors are known, E or alpha tocopherol
and K, a group of naphtha-quinone de-
rivatives. It is no longer de rigeur in
our best nutrition circles to fall back on
the alphabet in designating the vitamins
but instead the proper chemical names
of these substances are used. This is
quite in line with the polite usage of
proper names of individuals when the
identities are known instead of numbers
and letters which might be used when
they were still unknown.

The B Vitamins

The B vitamins are grouped together
because at one time, until 1919 at least,
they were thought to be one substance
only, antineuritic or antiberiberi in
character. Of course this substance,
thiamin (Bi), is only one, although peiv
baps the most overwhelming in the
effects exerted by its deficiency, of a
group of at least six and possibly eight
or ten equally indispensable vitamins.
The first of this family of B’s to be de-
tached after thiamin (synthesised 1932)'
was designated 6 by Goldberger and by
Sherman, B| by the British workers.
Thii^ turned out to be riboflavin, iden-

1 For an interesting description of tills sub-
jeet see E. E. Williams and T. D. Spies, Vita-
min Haemillan Company, 1988.

tified by Kuhn in 1934. It is the chief B
vitamin contained in milk and probably
in green leaves.

The next separation was that of vita-
min Be, named by P. Qyorgy in 1935,
now called pyridoxin or adermin, syn-
thesized in 1938. All three of these fac-
tors, thiamin, riboflavin and pyridoxin,
can be rather readily removed from
water solutions of vitamin rich foods
such as yeast, liver and rice bran by
shaking such solutions with fuller’s
earth. In 1936 it was pointed out by
Koehn and Elvehjem of Wisconsin, and
Lepkovsky and Jukes of California, that
after such removal there remained in the
filtrate something which was necessary
for both chicks and rats, in addition to
the three absorbed B vitamins. This
became known as the ‘‘filtrate factor or
fraction.” But by 1938 the identity of
still another B vitamin was discovered,
nicotinic acid, thought to be the chief
substance lacking in the diets which pro-
duce pellagra.

The “Filtrate Factor” Dbpicienoy

Symptoms

Now crystalline chemically pure thia-
min, riboflavin, pyridoxin and nicotinic
acid were available and in this labora-
tory and elsewhere these with necessary
fat-soluble vitamins and a purified basal
diet were fed to young rats. After six
to eight weeks most of these rats which
happened to be black coated began to
show silvery gray patterns in the fur.
Their growth was impeded and after a
few weeks skin eruptions occurred and
in most cases their lives came to an end
within six to eight months* They took
on all the appearance of extremely aged

VITAMINS AND SENESCENCE

417

By eonrtetiy of Journal of Nutrition*

FIG. 1. THE EFFECT OF VITAMIN B ON A BAT FAMILY

NUMBER 2 WAS OlVBN ALL THE B VITAMINS THROUGHOUT THE EXPERIMENT. NUMBERS 3 AND 4

WERE FED THE ANTUGRAY VITAMIN DEFICIENT DIRTS.

animals with loose wrinkled skin, sparse
silvery hair, emaciation and sometimes
' severe and persistent skin ulcers at the
base of the tail and on the hind legs and
feet. If concentrated extracts of the
filtrate factor were given them at any
stage of the deficiency their condition
improved at once with full return to
health and color of fur. A photograph
of gray and cured rats is shown in Fig. 1
and of a senile-appearing deficient rat
in Fig. 2.

The Glands Involved

Microscopic study of the organs of
these rats hae shown that the deficiency
oaused o(»uu8tent damage to the adrenal
glands, thyroids and sex glands and that
on recovery the damage was repaired,
although evidenceA'hf it were left.

It is not clear whether the primary

damage occurred in the adrenal cortex
or somewhere else, perhaps in the an-
terior pituitary gland. The latter gland
is thought to be the ‘^rnotor” or master
control of several other endo<‘.rine organs,
notably the gonads, the th3rroid and the
adrenals. If any of the functions of the
anterior hypophysis therefore are de-
stroyed or altered by the vitamin defi-
ciency subsequent changes in the thyroid,
adrenal cortex and sex glands may be
expected. Thus the depigmentation of
the hair may occur through the inter-
mediation of either or buth thyroids and
adrenals. Administration of thyroid
and adrenal cortical extracts has pro-
du^ slbw darkening of the grayed fur
of vitamin-deficient rats but has not
benefited the animals otherwise. This
leads to the suspicion that the deficiency
produced poor functioning of tiieae

418

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

glands as only one of its far-reaching
effects.

The young silver foxes later mentioned
as filtrate factor deficient were found on
autopsy to have enlarged red-pigmented
thymuses as well as evidence of previous
but largely repaired damage to the
adrenals. It has been reported fre-
quently that victims of Addison ^s dis-
ease, due to destruction of the adrenal
cortex, have enlarged and sometimes
regenerated thymuses.

When normal stqck female rats were
given the deficient diet on the day their
young were bom nearly complete failure
of lactation resulted. Deficiency in one
or more of the other B vitamins had no
such devastating effect. If the endocrine
system is affect^ by the deficiency it is
not surprising that lactation should fail
since anterior pituitary hormone control
of this function is known to exist. Medi-
ation or direct action in initiation of lac-
tation by the adrenal cortical secretion is
also generally recognized.

Experiments were made with cocker

spaniels placed at six weeks of age on
the purified and filtrate factor deficient
diet and with results similar to those seen
in the rats. The coal-black long curly
hair of these pups after two or three
months turned gray 8t‘»tfc^ roots and
gradually grew out gray dn color. One
was cured by administering a ‘^filtrate”
made from yeast with ahtnost immediate
new growth of black fur and increase in
weight. A similar diet fed to six young
silver foxes, three with and three without
'^filtrate factor,*’ resulted in the sudden
death of one of the deficient animals
within seven weeks. The other two were
given the missing factor at once to save
their lives, but they lost their fur almost
completely. Soon a new coat of fur grew
in but with white instead of black under
fur. They all grew well. One of the
controls and one of the gray pelts was
made up into a neck piece as a reminder
of this experiment.

Is Pantothenic Acid iNvoiiVBDf
Meanwhile the “filtrate factor” origi-

m. 2. A VITAHIK DBI’IOIKNT SBNBSCaBNT BAT

FIVE MONTHS OLD. NOTil TRS aSAYmO OP HAIt, LOSS HAIS Am wanilUimO or 8WN.

VITAMINS AND SENESCENCE

419

nally postulated by Lepkovsky and
Jukes and Elvehjem and Koehn as neces-
saiy for ehieks has been identified with
the pantothenic acid so long studied by
B. J. Williams. This acid has now been
83uithesized and is becoming available in
crystalline form for feeding experi*
ments. Is it or is it not the same thing
as the anti-gray hair factor in the
filtrate T No complete answer is yet
available, but it can be stated confidently
that pantothenic acid is concerned in the
graying phenomenon, although it is
probably not the only factor involved.
It is now being fed to rats and dogs both
with and without the crude “filtrate
factor.” DMtkening of the gray fur has
occurred, at least temporarily after some
delay >^en sufficient amounts of panto-
thenic acid were given.

A rather surprising interrelation be-
tween the anti-gray hair vitamin defi-
ciency (which in our early experiments
involved pantothenic acid deficiency as
well) and nicotinic acid intake has been
seen in the dogs. It was assumed that
nicotinic acid is essential for the preven-
tion of “black tongue,” the canine ana-
logue of pellagra, and that dogs deprived
of this substance would exhibit early
failure of nutrition. But the animals
reared on purified basal diet plus the
crystalline vitamin supplements, thia-
min, ribofiavin and pyridoxin, grew nor-
mally and except for gradual and com-
plete depigmentation of the fur and
occasional diarrhea appeared to be in
good health. One male cocker spaniel
remained well except for a dust-mop
gray coat instead of bis natural glossy
black hair after veixteen months on tMs
regime. There were no signs of black
tongue at any time. His photograph
with a nomal control isshirfn.in Fig, 3.
But his sister Mhioh had received the
same diet plus nhmtinio acid, lost hair
color, appetite eoft weight after only
four montim and when apparently about
to die was given the “iUtrate factor”

preparation. She rapidly recovered
normal health with normal coat color.
The same rapid failure was seen in sev-
eral other young dogs and also in rats
when nicotinic acid was added to the
“filtrate factor” deficient diet. Per-
haps the anti-gray hair vitamin, nicotinic
acid and pantothenic acid participate in
the same cycle of tissue reactions, bal-
anced nicely so that omission of one
topples the structure but omission of all
is less harmful.

A curious phenomenon is seen in the
continued growth and youthful appear-
ance of rats fed tlie usual diet plus yeast
and fat-soluble vitamins and an addi-
tional daily supplement of yeast filtrate.
At two years of age, when stock rats
begin to fall off in weight and show signs
of failure, these animals are sexually
active and of near-giant size, the males
being 500 to 700 grams in weight as com-
pared with the normal 350 grams. Some
scattered graying occurs in their fur but
no general depigmentation. The appe-
tite and efficiency of intestinal absorp-
tion are maintained at the level of young
adults. One of these super-developed
rats along with a normal brother of the
same age, twenty months, is shown in
Fig. 4. These large animals are sexually
mature and physically active, in contrast
with the young giant rats produced by
anterior pituitary gland transplants by
P. E. Smith a few years ago.

Where Do We Find These “Fh/tbatb

Factors” !

So far little progress has been made
in the assay of natural foods for the
“filtrate factors.” Certainly the anti-
gray hair fraction is. distributed some-
what sparsely in such foods as have been
triefl tbtb far. One may be led to specu-
late as te whether it was originally pro-
vided for num os for other animals, in
the bran, twigs, viscera, insects and othw
foods now considered inedible. Planta-
tion cone molasses, for instance, has b^

420

the scientifi€ monthly

MG. 3. TWO OOOKBB SPANIELS

FED EXACTLY AUKE FBOX WEAEJNO, KXOBFT TBAT
THE OHAY DOO (OBiOIHALLY BLACK) IN THE FOBE-
OBOCNB LAOKBB THE WLTEATE FEAOTION 0» THE

BTITAUINS.

found well endowed with this fraction,
but refinery molasses and the crystalline
sugars are free from it. Whole wheat
and wheat bran (but not to the same
degree, wheat germ) contain it but re-
fined flour lacks it. Canning has an
adverse effect on the filtrate fraction of
the B vitamins and leaching during cook-
ing in water or steam removes it frpi^
the cooked food.

A cheap and effective source of all liie
B vitamins now known might be made
up of black strap cane molasses and
wheat germ or even wheat bran. Such a
mixture is actually in use as a tonic «id
medicament in at least ohe student hos-
pital and apparently with Mtisfactory ,,
results. This is a commen&ry on the
remarkable cycle accomplished by indus-
try and science in our food roppl^, in
which we carefully remove the vitamin-
rich part of the natural foods, then pife-
scribe the removed offal as medicine!
When the removed vitamins are pre-
scribed in the form of pure atracts^or
Quithetic products the whole process be-
comes ludicrously expensive.

Thus apparontly all the . proeeeses
which civilisation has imppsed upon our

tend to remove or destroy what-

ever part of tiiis fraction is present in
the materials which we now regMPd as
fit for human use. The rmnedy should
probably be sought not in the return to
primitive feeding habits but in the isola-
tion, identification and thorough study
of these as of the other vitamins and ^e
inclusion of suitable sources in the diet.

Of course many prematurely gray
people have written to inquire whether
there is any reason to suppose that the
vitamin will affect their hair color.
Some who have tried taking rice bran

and yeast concentrates faithfully have
reported that the new hair is growing in
dark instead of gray. The process is
necessarily slow, since hair <mee gray
can not be expected to change color and
no one wishes to remove all gray hair
and wait for the slow appearance of the
new hair of another color 1 However, if
an arrest of the graying process can be
obtained this will satisfy many people.

But the more important phase of the
application of these findings to humans
lies in the nossible bearing they may

v wE ti OT lUfiiinsk’ «|at

ran iABeitS/UEr''ukiQinaHi'xK’Uxr^

; or < f-murnm ;

■\N

VITAMINS AND SENESCENCE

have on the prevention of premature
aging. Are the adrenals, thyroids and
o&er glands made relatively inactive by
diet defksiency and are some of the phe*
nomena of old age the result of such
inactivity Are there long-continued
slight vitamin deficiencies which bring
about the premature graying and the
metabolic and other disorders of senes-
cence t Old age phenomena can doubt-
less not be deferred indefinitely, but
modem living seems to bring them on
earlier than need be. Perhaps primitive
man obtained more of all the necessary
food factors from the unrefined whole
plants and animals on which he subsisted
than we can get from our refined, milled
and cooked dainty fare.

> See A. J. Carlson ’8 delightful chapter on the
endoerines in Problems of Aging, Biological
and Medical Aspects, ’ * edited by £. Y • Gowdry,
Williams and Wilkins Company, 1989.

In any case if a true interrelation of a
vitamin and the endocrine Qrstem has
been uncovered new means of both ex-
perimentation and clinical use of vita-
mins will resull Some of the treasured
mystery of the functioning of both these
groups of potent substances may be
eliminated.

BimXNOBS

Morgan, A. P., Cook, B. B., and Davison, H. G.

Vitamin B, dedciencies as affected by die-
tary carbohydrate.’^ JownuA of Nutrition,
16 : 27, 1938.

Morgan, A. F., and Bimms, H. D. Adrenal
atrophy and senescence produced by a vitamin
defldency.” Science, 89 : 665, 1939.

Morgan, A. F., and Simms, H. D. ^'Graying of
fur and other disturbances in several spedes
due to a vitamin deSciency.” Journal of
Nutrition, 19: 238, 1940.

Morgan, A. F., and Simms, H. D. ’^Anti-grey
hair vitamin deficiency in the silver fox.”
Journal of Nutrition, 20 : 627, 1940.

WHBBLS

I RAVI always been interested in the relation-
ship of the wheel to the advance of civiUsation
and the rise of man from the state of savagery.
There has been a good deal of exploration as
to where the wheel was discoverod and how it
first was used. It is suggested that it came
from putting logs under heavy objects to roll
them about, and then gradually went on to more
refined uses, from transporting of objects and
men to more creative or manufacturing uses,
such as in the potter’s wheel, the spinning wheel
and the mill wheeL Our own early American
life and our spread across this continent owed
much to the wheel, and it now plays a predomi-
nant role in our economic structure.

We know that the Eskimos have been able to
build up a fairly satisfactory culture without
the use of the wheel; what they do, though, is
of a very simple character, and their snowy en-
vironment has not been conducive to the use of
wheels. But upon nearly every civilisation of
the world wheels have had a pr^ound infiuence.
Few of us pause to reaUse the power of wheels
in our daily life, whirling about us everywhere
in the eivillBafion whieh Ihey have played such a
large part in creating. Idterallyi ” Wheels That

Make the World Go Bound,” and ” Wheels
within Wheels.” Not just the obvious wheels
we all see rolling under us on trains, automobiles
or bicycles. There are the tiny wheels tucked
away in watches to tyrannise over us in the mat-
ter of time. There are the wheels in typewriters
and presses, in engines and machines and other
devices about ns everywhere. Steamships, air-
planes, the tractor and the armored tank alike
are impotent without them. Wheels have done
mu^ in building up and bringing together
man’s world; misused, they can the more rap-
idly destroy it.

Perhaps the most significant effect of the
development of the wheel was that it gave
mobility to man and increased his range of ac-
tivities. This mobility has been vastly increased
by the steam and now the gas engine in con-
junction with wheels, tracks, roads or water.
Wheels mean movement. Movement means dan-
ger, unless that movement.is controlled. Wheels
have made possible a military attack which is
unpreoedenM and which, as we have recently
watched it develop on this earth, may bring
revolutionary changes in all human afifalra— Beg
Lyfnan WUbur in 86ko€l and Soeiaty^

SOIL DYNAMICS

By Dr. C. C. NIKIFOROPF

SOIL SCIENTIST, BUREAU OF PLANT lOTUSTRT, U. S. DEPARTMENT OP AGRICULTURE

The surface of the earth is a field in
which mineralogy, biology, physics and
chemistry cross and recross their paths,
collectively working for the creation of
the peculiar epidermis of the land which
is known to us as soil.

The soil is not merely a heterogeneous
mass of different products of disintegra-
tion and decomposition of rocks and not
just dirt from which plants can grow.
It is a harmoniously organized dynamic
system minutely coordinated with its
environment including geological history,
climate, relief and biological pressure.
It is said that any normal soil is in equi-
librium with its environment. Such an
equilibrium or steady state,'' however,
is not a state of static rest as might ap-
pear to a casual observer : it is a state of
continuous readjustment to the ever-
changing environmental factors such as
climatic conditions, biological activity
and erosion. The equilibrium between
the soil and its environment does not
spring into being spontaneously but
evolves gradually through an intricate
pedogenic (soil-forming) process which
consists of various physical and chemical
changes of the original material.

Beaching an equilibrium does not indi-
cate the end of the soil-forming process.
This process never ends as long as the
soil exists; when it ends the soil dies,
becoming a relic or fossil, and ceases to
be a dynamic body.

The continuity of the pedogenic proc-
ess does not contradict the equilibrium
between the soil and its environment.
The fundamental characteristic of the
pedogenic processes is their cyclicity. In
this respect they differ from the concur-
rent geological processes which can be
regarded as straight-line processes. The

latter begin, develop and end at some
static stage at which their products may
rest unchanged for a full duration of
geological ages. The best illustration of
such a difference is the formation of soil
humus and of various organogenic geo-
logical deposits such as coal, mineral oil,
peat and petrified wood.

Every soil contains certain amounts of
humus ranging from a fraction of one
per cent, to as much as about 20 per cent,
according to the type of soil and degree
of its biological pressure. The content
of humus is relatively constant in every
soil adjusted to its environment. The
amount of humus is constant but hu-
mus itself is not everlasting; it reno-
vates itself continuously. Continuously
certain parts of it decomposes into the
simple end products such as water, car-
bon dioxide and mineral salts and simul-
taneously an equal amount of it is formed
anew from the organic residues. The
radiant energy captured in organic com-
pounds is turned over to humus and re-
leased during its decomposition. Every
molecule of soil humus is in a permanent
state of transformation. Every quantum
of its energy is in a slow but ceaseless
motion. The matter and energy which
yesterday were a part of living organ-
isms are in soil humus to-day and will
be released to-morrow in the form of ele-
mental constituents ready to be resyn-
thesized and utilized by the next genera-
tion of organisms. These migrations of
matter and energy develop in cycles.

The same organic residues give rise to
the organic geological deposits, peats,
oils, coals, but the process of their trans-
formation is fundamentally different.
The residues do not decompose into the
simple end products and do not liberate

422

SOIL DYNAMICS

423

their energy. They undergo steriliza-
tion, carbonation or petrification and pass
into a static stage of conservation. Their
potential energy becomes dormant and
may rest as such for the duration of the
geological eras. Unlike the carbon of
humus the carbon of coal does not dis-
seminate as carbon dioxide ready for the
photosynthesis of the carbohydrates of
plants. The migration of matter and
energy from living bodies to the geolog-
ical formations proceeds along a straight
line. When it reaches the static state, it
ends in rest.

Cyclicity of the soil-forming processes
in BO far as matter is concerned can be
demonstrated in many ways. The cycles
of carbon, water, nitrogen, sulfur, phos-
phorus and so forth are well known. The
cycles of energy, however, are not as yet
sufficiently clear.

The immediate sources of energy in-
volved in the pedogenic cycles are cos-
mic, especially the radiant energy of the
sun and a potential energy of crystalliza-
tion concealed in atoms, molecules and
crystals of minerals. Applying the terms
of geochemistry to geophysics, these
forms of energy may be distinguished
as the vadose (of superficial origin) and
juvenile (deep seated, issued from deep
within the earth) energy of the pedo-
genesis.

The vadose energy is introduced into
cycles through a photosynthesis of plants,
the equation of which is :

600. -f 6H.0 -f 677.2 Oal = O.HuO. + 60,

and by numerous endothermic reactions
which take place in the soil itself.

Juvenile enei^ is liberated by the
weathering of rocks through a decompo-
sition of minerals. The bulk of rocks is
composed of alumosilicates. Alumosili-
cates are endothermic compounds which
were formed by crystallization of magmas
under conditioiu of high temperature and
high pressure. The decomposition of
these minerals on the surface of the earth

is accompanied by an emanation of heat.
Clayization of one gram of granitic rook
liberates about 120 calories.

The soil is a medium in which vadose
energy and juvenile energy merge and
pass through intricate chiuonels of the
soil-forming reactions.

Obviously the pedogenic cycles do not
develop entirely within the physical
media of the soU. Certain segments of
them pass through the biosphere. Matter
and energy leave the soil for living bodies
and return to it in the substance of hu-
mus. Naturally only the segments of
cycles which pass through the soil are of
primary interest to soil science. The
others belong to the closely related dis-
ciplines of bioph3^ie8 and biochemistry.

As the epidermis of the earth, the so^
are naturally subject to a general geolog-
ical weathering. Consequently, in the
soil the strictly pedogenic cyclic proc-
esses are intimately combined with the
straight-line geological processes. In
fact the latter constitute an essential part
of soil dynamics. Cyclicity of migration
of matter and energy through the soil
and life does not indicate that the same
atoms of matter and the same quanta of
energy continuously travel from the soil
into the biosphere and back into the soil.
Certain and probably large quantities of
both matter and energy continuously
leave the cycles, being disseminated in
the atmosphere, removed from the soil
by leaching for ultimate concentration in
the universal ocean, or statically fixed
in compounds stable in a thermodynamic
environment of pedogenesis. An equi-
librium, however, can not suffer any
losses, because any loss would imme-
diately disturb the balance. The losses
are covered by equivalent amounts of new
materials and by new energy which be-
come involved in the rotation partly by
living organisms from the cosmos and
partly by decomposition of the rocks
which release elements and potential
energy from thq clasps of petrification.

424

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

In the soil which is in dynamic equilib-
rium with its environment the pedogenic
cycles are precisely adjusted to the con-
current geological processes so that losses
and gains of both matter and energy are
continuously and remarkably balanced.

The pedogenic process takes place in
the medium designated as the soil body
which is a layer on the surface of the
earth affected and reorganised by this
process. The thickness of such a layer
ranges from just a few inches to several
feet; in a relatively few instances it ex-
ceeds ten feet. The average thickness of
various soils depends upon the type of
climate and vegetation which are instru-
mental in development of these soils,
upon the nature of rocks, upon the relief
of the land surface and upon the soil’s
own age.

Every soil body consists of several soil
horizons. A soil horizon is a part of the
soil which develops its individual phys-
ical and chemical characteristios, due to
a concentration in this part of body of
some particular reactions of the pedo-
genic process. It can be a local intensi-
fication of hydrolysis; of oxidation of
certain compounds ; of solution or coagu-
lation and precipitation leading to an
accumulation of various salts, colloidal
materials or humus. The reactions which
take place in different horizons may be
predominantly exothermic or endother-
mic. In the development of some hori-
zons the release of vadose energy may
be the main factor whereas the develop-
ment of the others may depend chiefly
upon liberation of juvenile energy. In
some horizons kinetic energy undergoes
fixation whereas in the others potential
energy is put to work. Due to these dif-
ferences each genetic horizon of the soil
acquires an individual chemical char-
acter as well as an individual thermody-
namic coefficient. All horizons of the
soil body considered in their natural
sequence from the surface downward
constitute collectively a soil profile.

A fundamental feature of the teue
soil horizons is a genetic relationdup be-
tween all horizons of any given proffle.
All horizons of the profile develop in
unison, simultaneously and usually from
essentially the same original materiaL
Their dissimilarities, physical or chem-
ical, no matter how great they may be,
are due entirely to the harmonious
changes of the original parent material.
A development of any one horizon is a
necessary accompaniment for the devel-
opment of the other horizons in the
profile.

An equilibrium of the entire system
presupposes the equilibria of all its in-
tegral parts. Consequently the normal
horizons do not grow indefinitely after
they reach the stage of equilibrium with
the environment. The old rather philo-
sophical concept that the soil evolves, de-
velops, grows old and finally deteriorates
has not been based on facts. Soil indeed
may change its character, but it changes
according to the modifications of the en-
vironment. Otherwise it remains con-
stant.

It is true, however, that in some par-
ticular instances the straight-line geolog-
ical processes which may take place in
the media of the soil profile are strong
enough to dominate the strictly pedo-
genic activity in the soil. They may lead
to the actual growth of certain character-
istics. An illustration of this is the for-
mation of certain static products which
are stable in the existing thermodynamic
environment of the soil ; for example, the
petrified hardpans. The petrification of
the hardpans might develop as a by-
product of pedogenesis. Because of the
stability of the hardpan in its thermo-
dynamic environment its formation ter-
minates the migration of matter and
energy in the zone paralyzed by petri-
fication. Such a hardpan can be re-
garded as a soil horizon affected by a
sclerosis. It may grow and in some in-
stances may ruin the original sofl.

SOIL DYNAMICS

425

There ie a fimdameiital difference be-
tween the soil horusons and mechanical
layeia of stratified parent materials. In
many instances a soil develops from par-
ent material composed of several strata
differing from each other. Each of these
strata might have been formed at differ-
ent times, by different agencies and from
different materials. A thin veneer of
loess or wind-blown sand may be de-
posited upon glacial till; a mantle of
deluvial assorted drift may be deposited
upon the residual detritus or upon the
same loess; strata of coarse gravelly al-
luvium deposited by the swift current
may be interbedded with the silty or
clayey alluvium settled from the slowly
moving water. Each of such layers ac-
cumulates above the other at different
times; one might be formed by ice, an-
other by water and the third by wind.
One might be formed from a nearby
source of material and another trans-
ported from a great distance. Each layer
can differ from the other, physically and
chemically, but individual properties of
any one of them have no relationship to
those of the other layers.

In many instances such layers are so
thin that an evolution of the soil profile
embraces several layers. In such in-
stances different genetic soil horizons or
certain parts of them might develop from
the originally dissimilar parent materials
so that differences between horizons
which develop due to the evolution of
soil profile might be superposed upon the
differences of the original materials. The
individual features of the soil horizons
whidi develop due to a pedogenic process
are distinguished as the acquired char-
acteristics and are contrasted to the tn-
Ktrited ones which are due to the nature
of the original material.

The soil as a whole is an unconsolidated
porous body. It consists of the three
phases: solid, Uqnid and gaseous. The
■did phase forms a mechanical frame-
work or a dLdeton of the soil body. It

consists of the more or less loosdy con-
nected fragments of rooks and minerals
and various products of their decomposi-
tion. These primary units range in siae
from the nltramicroscopical colloidal par-
tides to grains of considerable size.

The fundamental physical property of
the soil is its texture. The term soil
texture connotes the effect of its mechan-
ical composition, that is its arrangement
from partides of various sizes taken in
certain proportion to each other and
mixed indiscriminatdy into a more or less
uniform mass. The primary partides, or
mechanical units of the soil material, are
produced by a physical disintegration of
rocks and their chemical decomposition,
the mechanical composition of this mate-
rial, however, in many instances is the
product of an assortment and redeposi-
tion of the primary units by water, ice
or wind.

Closely rdated to the texture is a aoU
porosity which represents a ratio between
the solid and other phases of the soil
body. The pore space forms a system of
interconnected voids and vessels throngh
which pass the flow of soil solutions and
gases, therefore, a qualitative aspect of
soil porosity, that is a pattern of distri^
bution of the pore space throughout the
soil body has a particular significance for
soil dynamics. The same or very similar
porosity of the soils of different textorea
might have a fundamentally different
pattern. The ratio of capillary to non-
capillary porosity is especially important
because of its bearing on vdocity of chs
culation through the soil of its mobile
components.

To a considerable extent the texture
and porosity determine a soil oonsistenee.
The soil consistence depends upcm the
mechanical composition of the material
as well as upon an arrangement of the
mechanical units in regard to each other
which relates directly to the pattern of
the pore space in the soil. Unlike soil
texture, soil oonsistenee represents a con-

426

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

dition of the soil material rather than its
constant characteristic. It is subject to
changes according to the moisture condi-
tions. Certain amounts of water ab-
sorbed by the soil give to it a degree of
plasticity and viscosity. The grades of
plasticity range from a maximum in the
soil of the finest texture to a vanishing
point in the soils of the coarsest texture.
The grade of friability, or of a lack of an
adhesion among the primary particles,
ranges in an opposite direction. Plas-
ticity, viscosity, friability are the ex-
amples of various forms of the soil con-
sistence.

Finally, soil science attaches much sig-
nificance to the soil structure which rep-
resents an arrangement of the primary
particles of soil material into various
aggregates. A development of structure
fundamentally changes the qualitative
aspects of soil porosity because of the
formation of comparatively large voids
between the aggregates. Like a con-
sistence, soil structure refers to a con-
dition of soil material rather than to its
permanent property. It also is subject
to changes according to the moisture con-
dition. Usually soil structure is ex-
pressed best in the air dry soil. An
increase of moisture tends to decrease
stability of the aggregates and to reduce
the structure of soil material to a vanish-
ing point.

Texture, porosity, consistence and
structure together with color are the
most striking physical characteristics in
which the genetic soil horizons differ from
each other. The normal soil develops
from parent material which in a broad
sense is more or less uniform as regards
its color, texture, porosity and consis-
tence. Various modifications of these
properties in different parts of the soil
body reveal the story of soil genesis with-
out an understanding of which soil dy-
namics can not be fully understood.
Such changes are neither exclusively
physical nor exclusively chemical. Soil
physics and soil chemistry work hand-in-

hand in carving a soil profiOie from its par-
ent material. In some instances chemical
reactions cause a change in physical prop-
erties, whereas in others, ph3n9ical changes
of the medium either stimulate or retard
the chemical processes. This is particu-
larly significant for a distribution of the
pedogenic activity throughout the soil
body and conspicuous local intensification
of certain reactions in particular horizons
of the soil profile. For example, an inten-
sification of hydrolysis in some part of the
soil body may lead to the formation of
more clay in this part than in the oth-
ers. This addition of clay fundamentally
changes the texture, consistence and po-
rosity of the original material. It
changes the extent of surface area of the
solids, the pattern of the pore space, ve-
locity of movement of the solutions
through this part of the soil, and its heat
conductivity; it stimulates the develop-
ment of a new form of structure which
is different from that of the original ma-
terial ; it changes its color. Such changes
in turn affect the energy and modify the
character of the chemical reactions due
to which they have been developed.

The pedogenic process operates in a
medium characterized by the uneven and
continuously changing conditions of tem-
perature and moisture. Diurnal and an-
nual fluctuations of the temperature and
humidity of the air do not cease abruptly
when the climatic elements emanating
from the higher strata of the atmosphere
strike the surface of the earth. The cli-
matic waves originated in the atmosphere
penetrate the soil for a short distance
below its surface. Such a penetration
into the soil of the alternating waves of
heat and cold as well as of the maximum
and minimum moisture is marked by a
fast decrease in velocity of transmitting
of the heat and moisture from one layer
to the other, and by a decrease of the
amplitude of waves. This depends upon
changes of the medium through which
the climatic forces are spreading. From
the gaseous medium of the atmosphere

SOIL DYNAMICS

427

they enter the porouB-solid medium of
the earth’s crust characterized by the
different absorbing power and conductiv-
ity for both heat and moisture.

The depth of pentration of the climate
beyond the surface of the soil is rather
small; perhaps, its maximum nowhere
exceeds about ten feet. The character
of functions of climatic elements beyond
the surface of the soil, however, is so dif-
ferent from that above this surface, that
the ‘’soil climate” is considered some-
times as something fundamentally dif-
ferent from the “air climate,” although
such a distinction is, perhaps, not en-
tirely justifiable.

Mechanism of the soil climate can be
illustrated by a short discussion of the
temperature of the soil body.

Perhaps, the diurnal maximum of tem-
perature on the surface of the soil occurs
simultaneously with its maximum in the
air above the soil, although in many in-
stances the temperature of the surface
soil is considerably higher than that of
the air. A few centimeters below the
surface the daily maximum will be
reached, perhaps an hour later than on
the surface. Penetration of the crest of
the heat wave (that is, of the daily maxi-
mum) for the same distance of a few cen-
timeters below this level will take a much
longer time, perhaps three or four hours.
At some depths, depending upon the
character of the soil and other factors,
the daily maximum will be reached when
the temperature on the surface will be at
the point of diurnal minimum which will
send into the soil a wave of relatively low
temperature.

Together with a progressively decreas-
ing velocity of penetration of the soil by
the alternating relatively warmer and
relatively colder waves, the amplitude
between the maximum and minimum de-
creases progressively to a vanishing point
also. At some depth from the surface
the temperature does not change during
the dirunal periods, although it gradu-
ally changes from the annual maximum

to the annual minimum. The annual
waves of heat and chill travel through
the soil body slower but penetrate deeper
than the diurnal waves. At certain
depth the temperature of the soil is not
affected by annual changes of the tem-
perature on its surface and remain con-
stant. Perhaps, at this level the climate
ceases to affect the earth’s crust, and
maybe ceases to exist.

The heat is transmitted from a rela-
tively warmer to a relatively colder body.
When the surface of the soil is warmer
than the interior, the heat wave moves
downward. When the surface is colder,
it moves upward.

The waves of moisture traverse the soil
body in a somewhat similar way although
with less regularity. Moreover, the
transport of moisture through the soil is
affected by the capillary forces, gravity,
vaporization, condensation and trans-
piration by plants.

Consequently the temperature and
moisture of the soil, which mutually af-
fect each other, are never uniform
throughout the soil’s body. These in-
equalities together with a difference in
aeration cause uneven biological and bio-
chemical activity as well as uneven
energy of chemical and physical attacks
upon the mineral framework of the soil
in various sections of the soil, which, in
turn, leads to a differentiation of indi-
vidual genetic soil horizons.

Obviously none of these processes can
be fully understood without a knowledge
of the thermodynamics and hydrody-
namics of the soil, of the chemical and
physical composition of the soil body and
especially of the behavior of various com-
ponents in the thermodynamic condi-
tions of the pedogenesis.

Until quite recently the total anal3r8e8
of the whole soil materials and of some
particular mechanical fractions (col-
loids) separated from such materials
formed the backbone of chemical investi-
gations of the soils. These analyses dem-
onstrate a mass effect or a sum total of

THE SOIBNTIPIC MONTHLY

chemical changes in different horiaons
caused by a great xnany concurrent reac-
tions which take place in the soil, but they
fail to demonstrate the individual addi-
tives of such a sum total, their nature and
their relative value in the summarised
effect. The aspect on which these inves-
tigations have failed to throw light, how-
ever, is of the utmost importance.

The solid phase of the soil is a hetero-
geneous mixture of many different min-
erals and every mineral individually is
a heterogeneous system of several con-
stituents. A chemical composition of
most minerals can not be expressed by
stochiometric formulas although each of
their constituents is a definite stochio-
metric compound. Crystallization of
minerals from melted magmas or from
solutions or meltings, unites these stochio-
metric compounds into definitely oriented
systems (crystals) in certain although
not stochiometric proportions. A defi-
nite orientation in space of different con-
stituents whether of atoms or of groups
of atoms is an essential characteristic of
the crystals. The same stochiometric
compounds, taken in the same propor-
tions but differently oriented in space in
regard to each other, produce the differ-
ent crystals.

Various minerals behave differently in
thermodynamic field of the soil formation
in which numerous reactions of decom-
position, recrystallization and reorienta-
tion of cr}rstfl^ take place. This should
demonstrate a complexity of the chemical
and physical life of the Soil and the in-
evitability of fatal shortcomings of the
summatory analyses to reveal the impor-
tant details of the mechanics of pedo-
genesis.

An application of x-ray analyses has
opened the door for a new approach to
the problem ; and in spite of its novelty
has already made it dear that soil chem-
istry will have to lean more and more
toward the mineralochemistry in general
and the chrystallochemistry in particu-
lar. The outstanding problems to be

sdved by soil chemistry on its new path
indude not only an investigation of the
chemical composition and chemical struc-
ture of the minerals which form the solid
phase of the soU, but also, and especially,
of their behaviors and metamorphism in
the thermodynamic environment of the
soil formtion.

Weathering of the massive rocks and
of their fragments, large and microscop-
ically small, is a straight-line geological
process. One may trace a gradual trans-
formation of granite into a clay; or of
some other rock into a pure quartz sand.
The rocks are a source material, the cl^y
and sand, the end product of weathering
in the existing conations. Probably the
name, “end product,” is not entirdy
correct. The end product should be a
static formation absolutdy stable in the
given thermodynamic conditions. Such
products, even if they actually form, do
not accumulate on the surface of the
earth ; if they would, the earth would be
wrapped in an inactive, lifeless mantle.
Geological erosion takes care of the re-
moval from the surface of such dying off
material as fast as it forms, continuously
exposing to weathering fresher material,
thus providing a continuous flow of
energy and matter into the zone of pedo-
genesis.

Figuratively speaking, the cyclic pedo-
genic processes begin where the weather-
ing ends. This does not mean that the
beginning of the soil formation ends the
weathering. It has already been pointed
out that both processes concur in the soil.
Weathering continues to attack the min-
eral framework of a skeleton of the soil
within the soil just as actively as outside
it, and likely even more actively.

A conspicuous feature of the strictly
I>edogenic processes is the participating
of the living substance in them. In fact
the sphere of soil formation can be de-
termined as a part of the crust of weath-
ering invaded by living organisms. The
relationship between the soil and living
nature is so dose that without mudi ex-

SOIL DYNAMICS

429

aggeration it can be said that the soil is
a storeroom, a nursery, a bridal hall and
a cemetery of the entire organic world.

A general trend of the biolgical activ-
ity and the biological pressure determine
the character of the soil more effectively
than any other factor and probably even
more than all the other factors together.
Organisms involve into the pedogenic
cycles tremendous amounts of radiant
energy and the new elements such as car-
bon and nitrogen. Moreover, if the
weathering of a mineral framework of
the soil does not keep pace with the
energy and requirements of the life, liv-
ing substance itself stimulates the weath-
ering and attacks the minerals with pow-
erful enjgones.

An introduction of life immensely in-
creases the complexity of a pedogenic
process. It adds an immense variety of
organisms to the multitude of minerals.
The living substance, or a sum toted of
living organisms covers the surface of
the earth by an almost continuous film.
This substance represents a peculiar geo-
chemical formation. Probably it is a
crown of weathering, its final and the
most elaborate product. The outstand-
ing features of this formation are its dis-
semination into innumerable individued
organisms each of them enjoying a rela-
tive independence from the others; its
continuous and rather fast renovation,
and an exceedingly high dynamism. The
distribution of living substance through-
out the land surface, its congestion in
some particular region and a relative
sc a n t iness in the others, is regulated by
the natural environment. The amount
of life at any particular place is in equi-
librium with its environment which de-
termines certain limits for the expansion
of life. Within these limits the life, so
to say, saturates the surface of the earth.
Such a saturation point is a point of equi-
librium. At aq^r particular and stable
environment, the amount of life is rela-
tively constant and represents a grade

of the biological pressure adjusted to this
environment.

Biological pressure, whether expressed
in tons of living substance per unit area
or in quanta of its energy, is one of the
most powerful factors of pedogenesis.
The field of pedogenic activity is swarm-
ing with micro- and macrobiological
population, is thoroughly penetrated by
the roots, blanketed with organic resi-
dues and enriched by the products of de-
composition of these residues. These
react with the products of decompositian
of minerals. Various exothermic and
endothermic reactions are taking place,
and it is this ceaseless activity, this con-
tinuous flow of energy and xnattmr, which
makes the soil a dynamic system.

A laboratory investigation of soil
chemistry and physics is made in samples
of soil material. The soil material, how-
ever, is not a dynamic soil. The samples
of soil material do not represent the soil
any better than a piece of wood repre-
sents a living tree. Therefore soil physi-
cist and soil chemist know that sooner or
later they will have to take their precious
instruments and reagents to the fleld and
there check their diagnoses on a living
body of soil. They know that what they
are studying now in laboratories is only
a preliminary exploration of the funda-
mental laws whi^ control the function
of soil formation in nature.

Naturally most of the investigations in
the fleld of soil physics and chemistry are
concerned with some particular aspects of
the problem. Many of them are not as
yet properly coordinated with each other
due to the vastness and relative novelty
of the fleld. Much work still remains to
be done before the fundamental prob-
lem of soil dynamics can be attacked.
This problem is concerned with the soil-
forming cycles of energy accompanying
the cycles of matter and with giving to
the process an exact mathematical ex-
pression.

THE PHYSICIST AND EVOLVING

CIVILIZATION

By Dr. LEWI TONES

RESEABCH PHYSICIST, GENERAL ELECTRIC COMPANY

Not so many years ago the run-of- on water does not have the mystifying
the-mill citizen thought of a chemist as quality of its consumption by fire,
the man in the drug store who made up Nevertheless, the nature of atoms, what
the doctor ^s prescription, and he thought they are composed of, their relation to
of an engineer as one who had charge electricity, their disruption and refor-
of the machinery of a steamship or who mation, their interaction with light, the
chaufleured a locomotive. The chemist, nature of collisions between them, are
because of his well-defined field of opera- all physical questions. We must add
tions, and some excellent publicity, has to this list the laws of atomic dynamics
come to be recognized for what he is, a which bridge the gap between physical
manipulator of atoms and groups of and chemical properties. It tius ap-
atoms who investigates how and under pears that a synthesis of the physics of
what circumstances they join with each the atom must lead to its chemistry so
other or part from each other to form that ph3rsics is the fundamental science,
new substances with new properties. Its effect on mathematics will appear
The engineer, also, even more than the shortly. Through chemistry, but also
chemist, is now recognized in his role, through the tools for which it is respon-
for he is the industrial interpreter of sible, physics also underlies biology,
scientific progress. medicine and even psychology.

But I am afraid that even to-day the No one phase of human activity can
science of physics remains a somewhat be separated from the social organiza-
nebulous concept to the man in the tion as a whole. This is true of science,
street. There is a persisting spontane- Down the course of history the cross-
ous association — ^which is vaguely known links have been manifold between science
to be wrong-— of physicists with castor and other human activities, the produc-
oil. One reason for this is that the pur- tion processes, trade and communication,
veyors of physics for consumption warfare and the arts. The needs of an
always appear incognito as doctors, as- era have given direction to the scientific
tronomers, marine engineers, aeronauti- activities and scientific discovery has re-
cal and communication engineers, and acted on society. The slogan of science
many others. There is no such thing as for science’s sake is as false historically
a physical engineer. The field of physics as it would be sterile socially,
is broad, and each of its manifold sub- The Eg3rptians were faced by the
divisions has its own name which, with problem of surveying the landholdings
few exceptions, contains no ^‘physics.” which the Nile inundated. The river

Physics is broad because it has to do often changed its bed and it was neces-
with the properties of matter in general, sary to re-establish boundaries and areas
in those changes and relations which do for taxation purposes. As a result they
not involve chemical change. It is true laid the foundations of geometry. It
that the simpler manifestations of phys- was healthy because it was empirical
ics seem far less mysterious than those It was amazingly exact. Later the
of chemistry. The floating of a stick Greeks were to systematize it with good

480

THE PHYSICIST AND EVOLVING CIVILIZATION 431

results, but were also to distill it from
its earth-bom origin into the realm of
pure thought, with unfortunate results.

In the same era there was sufficient
optical knowledge for the design of
simple optical instruments. The Alex-
andrians knew the fundamental law of
magnification, and Euclid treated the
geometrical principles of reflection.
Ptolemy had investigated the law of re-
fraction and Archimedes is supposed to
have constructed concave mirrors to use
as burning glasses. Tet the social needs
which were to stimulate the exploitation
of this knowledge did not arise until the
Dark Ages had passed. Then the advent
of printed books created the need for an
aid to vision and spectacles were in-
vented. Two spectacle lenses made a
telescope, which, turned to the heavens,
helped solve the important problem of
determining longitude on the long west-
ern voyages of that age. Newton’s in-
terest in the refraction of light is
traceable to the colored fringes which
invariably surrounded the images in the
early optical instruments.

This gets us somewhat ahead of our
story. Archimedes was also interested
in levers and was prepared to move the
world, if only some one would furnish a
fulcrum. Nothing much seems to have
come of this, although here was a pos-
sible foundation for a development of
machines. On the other hand, music,
athletics, architecture, sculpture, the
drama and philosophy flourished. These
fields were the natural outlets for the
social energy of citizens whose material
needs were taken care of by slaves. A
slave economy is not conducive to scien-
tific advance, for those who engage in
the productive processes have no incen-
tive, and contact with crude matter is
beneath the social status of the citizen.

The sun and the stars in their courses
furnished mankind with his only clock
and calendar at the earliest stages of
civilization. The positions of the stars
at sunrise or sunset determined the sow-

ing of crops or the preparation for the
rainy season. The study of the heavenly
motions naturally followed. The geo-
centric view could suffice until the deter-
mination of longitude at sea made a
simpler scheme for predicting the posi-
tions of the planets desirable. The
Copernican theory met this practical
necessity and came into general use in
navigation long before there was ade-
quate evidence for its adoption.

Even that pseudo-science, alchemy,
was a response to a pressing social need.
The ruling classes of the dark ages had
need of greater income for their wars
and their living than the serfs with their
slow rate of wealth production could
supply. Gold was the desideratum, and
alchemy proposed to supply it. May I
point out that to-day we can produce
wealth faster than we are prepared, so-
cially, to use it. Power lies in other
things than gold. That we go on mining
it makes us appear even more foolish
than the alchemists.

We know from his writings that New-
ton was interested in the problems of
industry and commerce. Artillery was
a new weapon in his time, but the laws
of ballistics had not been discovered.
Newton laid the foundations of this
branch of science when he formulated
his three laws of motion.

It is worth noting that the group
whose meetings marked the beginning
of the Royal Society of England, for
years the leading scientific society of the
world, drew up an outline of their pros-
pective endeavors. To quote a chron-
icler who recorded their purposes :

They design the mnltipljing and beautifying
of the meehanick arts. . . . They intend the
perfection of graving, statuary, limning, coin-
ing and all the works of smiths in iron or steel
or silver. . . . They purpose the trial of all
manner of operations by Fire. . . • They resolve
to restore, to enlarge, to examine Physiek. . . .
They have bestowed much consideration on the
propagation of Fruits and trees. . . . They have
principally consulted the Advancement of Navi-
gation. . . . They have employed much Time in

432

THE SCIENTHIO MONTHLY

examtniag tbe Falwiek of Ships, the fonns of
their sails, tite shapes of their keels, the sorts
of Timber, the planting of Fir, the bettering
of pitch and Tar and Tackiing.

Wb have come far since those days.
The theory of relativity has stripped &e
cloak of mysticism from space and time,
laying bare their intimate relation to —
yes, their interdependence vrith matter
and energy. Quantum theory rubs noses
with practicality in the electric eye,
z-rays, mercury arc rectifiers, sodium
lamps, fluorescent lighting. Wave me-
chanics links the strength of materials
to the conduction of electricity in metals,
and to the non-conduction of insulators.

In any discussion of the relation of
science to human advancement it is
necessary to recognize the difference
between the scientific approach, which
is rooted in actual facts and relation-
ships, and counterfeit science, which
reaches conclusions by arguing from in-
tellectually acceptable premises. What
makes it counterieit is that the premises,
while possibly related to facts, exist on
a supposedly higher plane of reality
which puts them beyond empirical test.
Tet the conclusions from these premises
are supposed to have validity in the
world of reality.

The physical sciences have largely rid
themselves of this incubus, but because
the social sciences have not it is worth
while to look back at a famous example.
It is Euclidean geometry.

The supposedly self-evident postu-
lates of that system wero no more than
a summary of then existing geometrical
experience with physical objects. But
the philosopher requires something be-
yond empiricism. Accordingly, this
limited realm of human experience must
needs be endowed with a super reality
so that universally valid conclusions can
be reached. The progress of science was,
however, to defiate such intellectual ar-
rogance by showing that only within dis-
twees ranging between several atomic
diameters and several times tbe earth-

moon distance was Euclidean geometry
valid, and only as far as we could tell in
view of our inaccuracy of measurement.
Mathematicians, themselves, were to
show that Euclidean plane geometry was
only a special case of the two-dimen-
sional geometry of surfaces in generaL

This , should not be construed as an
indictmeut of pure mathematios. Since
the Grecian era the mathematician has
become more sophisticated. He knows
now that he is interested in exploring
as far as he can the relations of a set
of concepts which may or may not bear
any resemblance to parts of the physical
world. Unhampered by questions of
physical reality, he has investigated
many possible types of relationship and
deduced the consequences thereof. The
scientific value of these self-consistent
flights of pure fancy lies in the circum-
stance that time and again a certain
portion of the physical world has been
discovered to be linked together more or
less exactly in accordance with one of
these sets of mathematical assumptions.
And then the theory can be applied as a
whole.

Imaginary numbers are a case in point.
The square root of minus one, V~
invented by the mathematician to fill a
gap in the real number 83 rBtem, for in
that 83 ^tem the square roots of negative
numbers do not exist. The mathema-
tician had the satisfaction of finding that
the newcomer helped to explain tbe be-
havior of real numbers, but otherwise
it was purely ornamental.

Meanwhile the electrical art was de-
veloping. Certain advantages were ap-
pearing in tbe use of alternating rather
than direct current. It became neces-
sary to find a mathematical technique
appropriate to the new physical relation-
ships. The mathematician had it ready
to hand in his explorations vdth V~l.

And so they were married, V~'l to 00
cycles, and they have lived together hap-
pily and usefully evw sinee.

It would be wrong if I left you with

THE PHYSICIST AM) EVOLVING CIVILIZATION 433

the impreasion that ecientieta have not
been guilly of the sins of pure reason in
their own field. Time and again scien*
tists have been baffled by seeming contra*
dictions, which were only contradictions
in terms of a description carried over
into a newer region of nature from a
well-explored region. We have had to
learn, for instance, that the laws of the
world of baseballB and balloons are the
iQrntheses of those that describe the world
of nuclei, atoms and light quanta, and
that for astronomical distances, times,
temperatures and pressures still another
description is required.

Having already discussed the general
historical relation of science to society,
I want now to examine a few of its more
fundamental contemporary social conse-
quences. What the more recent specific
contributions of ph}rsios to our mode of
life have been can well be left to such
an excellent book as Professor Harri-
son’s “Atoms in Action.’’

It is instructive to spend a few min-
utes in examining a single scientific de-
velopment. It would be hopeless to try
to reproduce all the groping, searching,
thinking, guessing, trying, testing and
repeating of tests that are an essential
part of the scientific method in action.
What I hope you will grasp is some of
this, and also some idea of the diversity
of specialised knowledge and skills
which must be tapped and the material
resources which have to be available.
'What is chosen for examination is of
little moment. A brief chapter from the
history of the incandescent electric light
will do as well as anything.

The new incandescent lamp of 1911
had a filament of drawn tungsten wire in
an evacuated glass envelope. The isola-
tion of tungsten had been a chemical con-
tribution, its drawing into fine wire a
triumph of metallurgy. The outstand-
ing suitability of tungsten as the fila-
mentary material was recognised as a
eonsequenee of its high melting point, for
ihi study of heat had revealed that the

higher the temperature of a body, the
greater the fraction of the energy from
it which appears as visible light.

The creation of a sufficiently good
vacuum was the culmination of a devel-
opment which von Guericke had started
with the invention of the first air pump
and which was to reach its final stage,
as of to-day, in the non-mechanical con-
densation pump in which a condensible
gas of heavy molecules like mercury
vapor is used to blow the lighter mtde-
cules of air and water vapor out of the
vessel to be exhausted. The mercury
vapor is not actually blown through the
lamp, but the same effect is obtained by
connecting the lamp to the pump in
which a blast of the vapor entrains the
air molecules. A cold sone in the connec-
tion to the pump, kept cold with liquid
air, prevents mercury from getting into
the lamp, and the mercury in the ex-
hausted gas is condensed out by cooling
with water.

The art of glass making and blowing
was necessary to the bulb. To carry the
current from outside to inside a metal
whose expansion with temperature
matched that of the glass had to be used.
If this metal shrank too rapidly on cool-
ing it would pull away from the glass as
the seal cooled, and if it shrank too slowly
the stress created on cooling would crack
the glass.

One undesirable feature of the lamp
was its blackening with use. This was
thought to be due to chemical attack on
the filament by gases which developed
inside the bulb. But practically nothing
was known about chemical reactions in
the range between 2,000 and 8,000° 0.

Research was undertaken primarily to
gain an understanding of phenomena
which occur at low gas pressures and
high temperatures. It developed the fol-
lowing facts which are a few among many
others of great importance. Glass con-
tains large quantities of water which is
given up to a vacuum when the glass is
heated. This evolution of water vapor

434

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

continues for many hours at any tem-
perature, but by heating the glass above
the temperature at which it will be
finally used, it can be reduced to a
negligible amount. A minute quantity
of water vapor induces a progressive
blackening of the glass, as does hydrogen,
which strangely enough does not react
with tungsten. On the other hand, oxy-
gen, which does react with tungsten, has
no such effect.

These were valuable facts, but of equal
significance was the discovery that even
when all trace of deleterious gas was per-
manently absent, blackening still oc-
curred. This was discovered to be the
result of the natural thermal evaporation
of the tungsten. At the time it appeared
to offer an insuperable barrier to a
further increase in lamp efilciency.

The all-important reason for using
vacuum was that this eliminated heat loss
by circulation of the gas within the bulb
and thereby increased the efficiency. On
the other band, further investigation of
the effects of gases on tungsten showed
that the presence of an inert gas cut down
the blackening of the bulb. Was it pos-
sible that gas would permit a sufficient
rise in filament temperature so that the
relative increase in light emission would
more than compensate for the new con-
vection heat loss. The laws of heat flow
in gases, which had been worked out in
the course of the same research, were
applied, and the answer was yes, but only
for filaments of an impossibly large
diameter so far as common use was con-
cerned. The difficulty could be solved by
coiling the filament, for then its electrical
characteristics would be those of the fine
wire while its heat losses would be those
of a heavy one. An ingenious solution,
which, however, required a so-called non-
sag filament, one which would retain its
coiled shape throughout its life. Here
was a metallurgical problem again. Its
solution involved another about-face in
the constitution of the filament. Origi-

nally of tungsten, it had been found
necessary to introduce thoria if the fila-
ment was not to disintegrate on alter-
nating current. Now the purity of the
wire had to be reestablished; but a re-
vised heat and mechanical treatment was
found which developed long interlocking
cr3rstalain the wire.

This account shows you a small section
of science at work, exhibiting its ap-
proach, its needs, its ramifications, its
power and its consequences. The ap-
proach is that of full knowledge of what
has been discovered before, and acknowl-
edged ignorance of the new things which
must be found out.

Its needs of specialized knowledge in
research and development can only be
filled by having a staff of speciidists
available for work and consultation.
And each scientific and engineering
advance creates its own experts in its
wake.

Each contributing specialized field
brings its own materials and equipment
to the new task. Machine tools, micro-
scopes, meters, thermocouples, gauges,
power supplies and so on are among
them.

Its consequences are the creation of
new satisfactions for human needs and
desires with an expenditure of less effort
per unit produced.

Its ramifications arise from the un-
suspected relations and undreamed-of
effects that are discovered. It is these
which will be most fruitful in the future.
One such effect has already been men-
tioned, that of a gas cutting down the
rate of evaporation of the filament. The
incandescent lamp research also eluci-
dated another effect whose importance
was destined to equal that of the light.

Edison had found in his lamps that
an electric current would flow in the
vacuum between the hot filament and
another electrode. Langmuir proved
that a similar current flow in tungsten
filament lamps was due to eleotrons

THE PHYSICIST AND EVOLVING CIVILIZATION 436

evaporated continually out of the hot
tungsten. There was, seemingly, an
opportunity for considerable electric
current, carried by the electrons, to flow
between the ends of the filament where
the voltage difference was greatest. This
phenomenon was the doorway to radio.
The key to the door was the answer to
the question: What limits the electron
flow from a hot filament and keeps it
very small even though the temperature
is raised? The answer is: The mutual
repulsion of the electrons whereby those
which are traversing the vacuum retard
the escape of their successors from the
hot metal. Not only radio, but the mod-
ern telephone system, and most of our
methods of automatic control and record-
ing are corollaries of the answer to that'
question.

What we have seen in our small sam-
ple of scientific endeavor is typical. It
shows us that large social and economic
resources must be available to create,
gather together and hold the technical
personnel and the physical plant. These
resources are necessary at each level of
progress, namely in fundamental re-
search, in the development of a product,
in its production and in the further ex-
ploitation of the experience gained.

The result is that science itself is a
potent factor in the development of big
business. There are other factors, to be
sure, chief among which I should put the
advantage of monopoly in a capitalist
system. But the logic of scientific prog-
ress points to large highly integrated
units of development and production
quite apart from the economic organiza-
tion of society. The day of the indi-
vidual researcher is past. The pattern
now is one of cooperative interlocking
effort. This is as true in medicine as in
television. If you want insulin and
Bulfanilimide you will have to accept big
industry, too.

I have been at some pains to contrast
liie Aristotelian approach as exemplified

by Euclid with the scientific method as
illustrated in the electric light. I have
tried to bring out that the self-evident
nature of postulates is no guarantee
either of their validity or the range
within which they are valid, but that the
ultimate arbiter is nature herself. Time
and again nature has brought us up short
with the proof that she is infinitely more
versatile and ingenious than even the
mind of a genius. I think we have
learned this lesson with regard to the
physical world. Galileo, Copernicus,
Einstein and Planck are all names asso-
ciated with revolutions in scientific
thought. The associated advances only
had to be revolutions because this les-
son had not been learned.

This lesson is still unlearned, however,
with regard to the world of human af-
fairs. In economics, we have, I think,
discarded the Economic Man, and we do
not hear so much about the Law of
Diminishing Returns. But the author-
ities still appeal to the Law of Supply
and Demand. Demand, how expressed?
By cash bid, by promise to pay, by peti-
tion or by elemental human needs? De-
mand for what? Opium, gin, a decent
standard of income, food, coming-out
parties or jobs? Supply — ^how adequate
in volume and quality, delivered where
and how long hence ? * ‘No, ’ ' our Aristo-
telian economist may say, “the law is
more general than you would imply.
Demand means effective demand, and
certainly there are limitations on supply
set by the economic and social circum-
stances of the time and locality. “ Per-
haps this is a poor defense, but in my
brief excursion into economic theory I
found no other. Let us incorporate the
explanation into the statement of the
law. Here is what we have : If a demand
is effective in augmenting the supply,
then the supply will increase, but some
demands can not effect an increase be-
cause of circumstances. Does this say
anything at all, let alone express a f unda-

436

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

mental economic rdationt Hadn’t we
better forget it and start fresh with a
detailed analysis of all the controlling
factoraf

We are hearing much about the stimu-
lation of private enterprise. How “pri-
vate” are enterprises whose owners num-
ber from the thousands into the millions t
I hardly believe that the users of the
term r^er to the comparatively small
number who own the bulk of the stock
or to the increasing control by the man-
aging personnel. How “private” is a
corporation which controls a substantial
portion of the traxisportation facilities,
which have become a necessary part of
our life, whether rail, air, water or auto-
motivef How “private” is a corporation
which either openly or secretly or in both
ways uses its concentrated resources to
influence legislation? And the word
“stimulate” could bear a little historical
and factual examination.

Examples could be multiplied. I cite
one more. It is common practice to begin
a socio-economic discussion with the
premise : All of us are divided into three
parts, capital, labor and the public. Ap-
parently the white-collar middle class
must be the public because we are classed
neither with capital nor labor though we
do earn our living. And aren’t the
capitalist and the worker part of the
public t If wages are increased too much
(what is “too much” relative to actual
union demands?) then the public, we are
told, won’t be able to buy the product.
Are these analysts really afraid that the
increase in wages will be banked, as is
happening to so much income at the
present time? No valid conclusions can
flow from this stereotyped erronedus
subdivision of the population which is
incomplete in its enumeration and over-
looks essential interrelations.

I believe that we are making some
progress in the direction of science in
human relations. More and more
factual studies from which limited con-

clusions can be drawn are being made.
But we are advancing far too dowly.
The advance is slow because we are half
blind to the possibilily of applsdng sci-
ence and also because of active opposition.
It is too slow because in recent years our
social maladjustments have been accumu-
lating more rapidly than our power to
deal with them.

An outstanding charactetistie of the
world that science has created is that the
individual no longer controls the ele-
mental production processes. The
processes have themselves become too
intricate and subdivided. The truck
gardener probably comes closest to con-
trol, but he is absolutely dependent on
gasoline, electricity, automobiles and the
textile industry. At a more primitive
stage each of us had a less perfect but a
direct control over our sources of supply
and means of fabrication. In perfecting
our control of nature, however, to in-
crease her bounty and mitigate her
severity we have developed a new sys-
tem of human relations whose essential
functioning is as unknown to us now as
were the relations between the earth, sun,
moon, planets and stars before Coper-
nicus and Kepler.

In both cases the existing knowledge
had been sufficient for many purposes;
in both cases powerful forces were ar-
rayed against the logic of the facts which
were accumulating. The essential differ-
ence in the two situations is this: The
astronomical makeshifts could have been
elaborated indefinitely. There was no
critical urgency in the need for the sim-
pler navigation methods which the Oo-
pemican view made posnble. On the
other hand, the maladjustments in our
social arrangements have already re-
sulted in positive retrogression in large
sections of modem civilization. In our
own country the expedients to wUeh we
have been temporally forced appear to
be increasingly necessary and at the same
time increasingly impossible to

THE PHYSICIST AND EVOLVING CIVILIZATION 437

Is there any consensos of opinion that
the gathering and correlation of social
and economic facta should be vastly ex-
panded t Are scientists more inclined
than others to ask for this extension of a
fruitful technique t In England some
of them have developed a social aware-
ness that has not been exhibited in this
country. Here the scientist reserves his
independence of thought and the inquir-
ing attitude for his special field. As a
scientist he is right-handed and as a citi-
zen he is left-handed, and he lets not his
right hand know what his left hand
doeth.

One excuse that lacks either candor or
intelligence is that experimentation is an
essential part of the scientific method,
and you can not experiment with human
beings on a social scale.

The answer to this is twofold. We
do experiment. Russia is one example,
the settlement of Alaska another. Free
public education, every educational in-
novation and every change in a social
institution from the Montessori method
to the TYA and socialized medicine is
an experiment.

Second, many sciences do not find it
IKtssible to experiment. Astronomers,
for instance. The one astronomical ex-
periment 1 know of was that of Joshua,
who made the sun stand still, and, scien-
tifically speaking, it was a failure be-
cause no one has been able to repeat it.
Geology is a science, but what geologist
has ever made a fossil in the laboratory t

In somewhat similar vein is the belief
that there is an essential difference be-
tween the relations of individualistic,
thinking, emotional and willful human
beings and those subsisting in the lower
orders of life, and that this differmioe
transcends the application of the scien-
tific method. Tlds is reminiscent of a
conviction that has been widely held
that the chemistry of life-processes was
essentially different from the chemistry
of the test-tube. The laboratory «yn-

thesis of urea in 1828 effectively disposed
of that view. But let us discuss tiie
newer version.

The present threat to our culture doss

not arise from factors whidh are unique
from person to persom It arises from
more or less universal characteristics in
the interrelations between man and his
social institutions. There are certainly
variations from the norm which differ in
magnitude ; and some of these vanations
may themselves be large enough and
common enough to be of signifleanoe.
But scientific method is prepared for
this contingency just as mathematics
was ready with the V^. In the study
of gases physics has synthesized the in-
dividualistic behavior of atoms to derive
the gas laws. A whole branch of the
science is devoted to problems akin to
this. It is called statistical mechanics.

As a matter of fact there is an existing
social institution which within the limi-
tations of its function applies statistics
to a highly variable contingency of human
life — ^namely, death. It is worth noting
that the chief threat to life insurance in
the last thirty years has come not from
the additional mortality of the First
World War but from the developing eco-
nomic instability of our society itself.
The variations from the average are also
recognized in this institution, because,
among others, those afiOicted with syphi-
lis, tuberculosis or diabetes can not avail
themselves of it.

But more cogent than these arguments
is the fact that social studies have been
made and have established important
relations within our culture which could
only be speculated about before.

I do not assert the imperative neces-
sily for our culture to mctend its use of
science without realizing that the opposi-
tion to this step is tremendous. On the
whole it is probable that science on its
traditional ground has had an easier
time of it, even though it has, on ooea-

438

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

sion, trod on tender but powerful ecclesi-
astical toes. In its application to social
problems, however, it finds two enemies,
those who fear that their moral precon-
ceptions may not square with the impli-
cations of the facts and those whose
economic interests and social prestige
are threatened. The latter can com-
mand powerful weapons, which have
been created by science itself, to combat

its extension and nullify its power.
This is a contingency which lies outside
the power of science to deal with. Stars,
triangles, atoms and fruit-fiies do not
talk back, but those whose social func-
tions are obsolete do this, and more. The
situation calls for a greater awareness of
the threat to our culture and the will to
get the facts without which a solution is
impossible.

THE GROWTH OF AN IDEA

By Dr. CARL E. SEASHORE

RKBBAKCH PKOITSSOB OF PBTCHOLOQT, 8TATB UKITXBBITT OP IOWA

Ths “idea” in this case is the convic-
tion that musical talent is subject to
scientific analysis and can be measured.
Some forty odd years ago a colleague in
the university faculty who was a very
fine violinist kept boasting what a fine
musical ear he had. One day I rose to
the occasion and said, “Van, I’ll find out
how good your ear is by measuring it.”
The challenge was accepted, I devised
the apparatus, made the measurement
and found that he could hear a differ-
ence of about one seventieth of a tone.
This was an objective fact, specific and
verifiable.

At that time it was a new idea that
one could measure specific personal
traits quantitatively. Terms like differ-
ential psychology, individual differences,
talent chart, I.Q., vocational guidance,
educational measurements, statistical
methods, applied psychology, the psy-
chology of music and many other facts
about the recognition of the individual
and bis personal equation which now
loom up so large were at that time prac-
tically unknown.

It is my purpose here to illustrate in
a somewhat intimate and personal way
the normal growth of laboratory re-
search from a germinating idea as it can
be traced in the Iowa laboratory. My

treatment must, of necessity, take the
form of evaluation and bold touches in
highlights rather than the amassing of
descriptive facts and details.

Van’s sense of pitch had been mea-
sured, but what did it meant To
answer that question in part, I measured
myself, and, to the surprise of both of
us, I found that my ear was as sensitive
as his. But this did not leave us much
wiser, although on more nearly equal
terms. So I measured the sense of pitch
in a class of thirty students and found
that they varied from the ability to hear
approximately one hundredth of a tone
to the inability to hear a difference of
one-half tone. This then was the begin-
ning of a new scale of interpretation.
Van and I could compare ourselves with
others. This measurement was repeated
upon hundreds of adults, and reliable
norms of distribution of capacity were
established.

The question then arose : What is the
cause of these very large differences t
When we found that of two normal per-
sons, one may be more than one hundred
times as keen as the other in pitch dis-
crimination and that this is relatively
fixed, our first resort was to refer it to
differences of intelligence or powers of
observation; but, to our astonishment,

THE GROWTH OP AN IDEA

439

we found that there was no significant
correlation between the sense of pitch
and intelligence. Indeed, the student
who made the poorest record in the sense
of pitch in my original series was one of
the brightest of the class and is now a
member of the faculty of the University
of Iowa.

The next hypothesis was that it might
be due to training. To verify this, we
first correlated the records on the sense
of pitch with the records on the amount
of training in music that each student
had had and found that there was no
significant relationship. That is, a keen
sense of pitch is not due to training. To
verify this startling find we took all the
children in an eighth-grade room and
gave them the most intensive training
possible in this specific act daily for a
month, and we found that the distribu-
tion and degree of ability in this task
remained practically the same at the end
of the training as it had been before
training.

At that time it was believed, on the
basis of certain experimental evidence,
that pitch develops with the age of the
child, but our eighth-grade children had
done as well as the university students.
This was contrary to musical and educa-
tional theory at that time. We therefore
established age norms from ten years old
and up and found that aside from devel-
opment in the capacity to apply them-
selves to a task of this kind, there was
no evidence of improvement in the sense
of pitch with age. In spite of the fact
that normal persons show astonishingly
large individual difUerences in capacity
for pitch discrimination, it is found that
this capacity does not vary consistently
with age, intelligence or training.

Applying this to the evaluation of our
first measurement upon Van and myself,
we may say that our sense of pitch falls
within the highest two per cent, in a
normal community; that it is probably
a fixed, inborn talent which is relatively

independent of general intelligence and
age; and that it improves with musical
training only in the same sense that the
acuity of vision improves with training
in art production or appreciation. It
must be clear to any one that all these
psychological facts are of extraordinary
educational, social, musical and economic
significance.

These first and radical findings
launched us upon a program for an in-
tensive study of the sense of pitch which
is still in progress and has borne most
gratifying fruit in our knowledge about
this type of individual differences as in-
volving principles of pure psychology,
and applications of this knowledge in
anthropology, genetic psychology, hered-
ity, music and education. Through this,
our concept of a musical talent has been
enriched and vitalized and we have dis-
covered its basic role in countless situa-
tions in daily life, art and industry,
where its presence had not been recog-
nized before.

It was natural, then, that we should
ask: What other talents may be analo-
gous to thisf This led us into an inves-
tigation of a number of recognizable
units in the complex forms of pitch
hearing, as in the hearing of consonance,
harmony, melody and various types of
modulations of pitch ; and this led to the
beginning of what we may call '^the
psychology of pitch.'’

We then made an objective analysis
of tone to determine the characteristics
of the sound wave and found that there
are four and only four; namely, fre-
quency, amplitude, duration and wave
form. For the hearing of each of these
characteristics of tone we recognized the
necessity of a specific capacity; namely,
the sense of pitch, the sense of loudness,
the sense of time and the sense of timbre.
These cover the tonal, the dynamic, the
temporal and the qufditative attributes
of sound.

We then entered upon a program of

THE SOIENTIPIC MONTHLY

440

measurement and analysis of each of
these on the pattern of the studies on
piteh and followed these four basic fac-
tors into their variants, combinations
and interrelations in the actual musical
situation. This gave us a sound basis
for the analysis of musical hearing.

For each capacity for musical hearing,
both simple and complex forms, we must
look for a corresponding capacity for
performance or tone production. This
gave us a classification of the motor
capacities necessary for the control of
sound in a musical performance.

This parallel classification of sensory
and motor processes based upon the four
characteristics of the sound wave was
found to carry through the higher men-
tal processes of memory and imagina-
tion, the higher cognitive processes of
conception, judgment and reasoning,
and the various aspects of feeling and
emotion and all types of musical action.
That is, when we remember a musical
selection, imagine it, think and reason
about it, and analyze our musical feel-
ings and all types of musical action, it
is always in terms of one or more of these
four factors or their derivatives. They
constitute the content to which the music
gives form. All musical creation, as in
composition, is but the artistic arrange-
ment of these four elements in musical
content. All appreciation of music is in
these terms. mastery of musical
performance may be expressed in these
terms.

Becognition of this type of classifica-
tion constituted a preliminary survey of
our field for investigation and made
elements of musical experience and be-
havior tangible for measurement and
analysis in the laboratory. Thus we
found ourselves in a most fascinating
new field with opportunities for blazing
trails in hundreds of directions thereto-
fore unexplored. This new field we now
call “psychology of music." As the field
broadened, we found ourselves con-

stantly drawing upon and contributing
to general principles of psychology and
were thrown into cooperation with allied
and underlying sciences on a large scale.

It was gratifying to find that this sub-
ject could be treated either as pure or
applied psychology, that the applied
aspects might be treated experimentally
in the same manner as problems of pure
psychology and that the interests of pure
psychology could be served in as clear
and unhampered manner when a prac-
tical application was in mind as when
it was not. We found ourselves con-
stantly drawing upon and contributing
to general principles of psychology and
had to branch out in cooperation with
allied and underlying sciences. Fasci-
nated by the magnitude and the imme-
diate yield in this field of the science of
sound, the staff and equipment of the
laboratory was for many years concen-
trated upon this objective at a saeriflce
of many other possible laboratory
interests.

At that time there were no other labo-
ratories equipped for this operation; at
every turn we were blazing new trails.
The matter of equipment was and is yet
a constant problem calling for ingenu-
ity, invention and facilities for the build-
ing of instruments. The opening up of
a new field of investigation calls for new
lypes of equipment, means of measuring
every aspect of sound, means for pro-
ducing all musically significant types of
sound, means for the analysis of each
and every feature of the sound and
means for the complete phonophoto-
graphic record of any musical per-
formance. This represents a bewilder-
ing nest of complicated instruments.
Fortunately, the psychology of musio
was really made possible by the extnr
ordinary progress of invention and pro-
vision of instruments which came in
through the commercially profitable and
scientifically intriguing developments in
radio engineering. Without theaa^ Ihe

THE HBOWTH OF AN IDEA

best oontributioiiis of any uniTeraity
laboratory would have been inaignificant.

But instruraenta are mere toola. They
muat be designed for specific problems.
We could not shoot at the blue sky of
all the psychology of music, and there-
fore we had to pick specific aspects
which from time to time became tangible
and significant. Of these, there was an
abundance, all bearing directly or indi-
rectly on the problem of laying scientific
foundations for some phase of the art of
music. One of the constant problems is
the experimental definition of terms.
Timbre, for example, was but little more
than a French name. A permanent and
verifiable definition had to be determined
by experiment, and the loose musical
jargon hovering around that concept had
to be scrapped in favor of the experi-
mentally determined definition of the
word. This was the first step in the as-
signment of an understandable and vital
function to timbre in music. Prevailing
theories had to be submitted to verifica-
tion, as in the case of the laws of har-
mony, action of the vocal cords, musical
phrasing and scales. Our extensive pub-
lications of researches on such specific
issues of musical experience and beha-
vior tell an interesting story.

But the effort to deal with any single
problem of musical sounds at once took
us into allied fields, such as the peren-
nial problems of heredity and environ-
ment and the science of genetics, the
physics of sound, the physiology of hear-
ing, the endocrine basis for emotion and
dectrophysiology of nervous control.
Since the object of the investigation was
music, there had to be constant rapport
with current leaders in musical theory,
education and criticism. The barriers
among such fields have broken down, and
in the last fifty years progress has been
made by leaps and bounds. As a result
of the recent development in acoustics in
the interests of radio and all other forms
of sound migineering, we had in most

441

cases only to share and help to harvest
the common findinga.

Out of the science built from all these
sources, new applied sciences have grad-
ually emerged. Mastery of the measure-
ment of musical talents took us into the
midst of a practical field of musical edu-
cation. As the measurement of musical
talents became recognised as a scientific
approach to the problem of individual
differences, differential psychology took
many new turns. Befinement of mental
measurement in hearing led to special
fields of mental testing. When we went
into the World War, we had to answer
the question : What can psychology con-
tribute T and some notable contributions
came from the psychology of music in
the location of U-boats and the selection
of personnel. Musical anthropology took
a new scientific turn. AU we had
learned in the study of musical sounds
had its parallel and counterpart in
speech, and hence arose the psychology
of speech. While each of the arts has its
medium, they all have certain principles,
talents and goals in common. In recog-
nition of this, there grew up in the labo-
ratory a separate division of the psy-
chology of graphic and plastic arts.
Music^ anthropology which had previ-
ously been loose observation turned
experimental. As we learned to record
and interpret musical performance,
problems arose in regard to what is
possible and what is good in musical
performance. And through the years of
accumulation of musical terminology,
classification and experimental theory,
we found ourselves laying foundations
for a scientific musical esthetics. None
of these problems has been solved, but
the mere naming gives us some concep-
tion of the richness of possibilities of a
new field, such as that of the pf^chology
of music.

While much of the overhead work in
the Iowa laboratory has been my happy

442

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

lot, the accomplishments in the whole
program must be accredited to the large
body of students and colleagues in the
department who have shared in the
building up of the laboratory. It must
be clearly understood that the progress
in large as we now see it is not the work
of a single laboratory or the fruitage of
a single idea but rather the integrated
findings of many interlocking sciences,
of many laboratories in each science and
often of many individuals in the labora-
tory. May I add also that the type of
specialization here involved has fur-
nished the workers in the field an excel-
lent opportunity for broadening the
scientific horizon and extending the
vision into approaches to the science of
the art of music.

Such is a sort of privileged retrospect
under the license for reminiscence ex-
tended to an old man who has lived

through much of it. Perhaps the picture
is overdrawn. However, every state-
ment is subject to verification. I have
tried to see the development in relief,
especially as it germinated and rose into
the structure of a scientific family tree
in rich branching with foliage and fruit-
ing. The germinating idea was that
can be done”; musical talents can be
measured. There was no sudden leap
from the sprouting of this idea up to
the present level of achievements; but
progress was made by continuous logical
and tireless work going by natural steps
from one stage to another. The germi-
nating idea was not exactly new ; it was
simply vitalized and thrown into line
with parallel developments. Perhaps
the most all-impressive contribution that
has come out of this entire development
is the revelation of how little we know
of such a “knowable” subject.

CAN THE UNITED STATES HAVE
BUTTER AND GUNS?

By ALFRED W. BOOTH

DXPABTICBKT OT OEOLOOT AND OBOOBAPHT, VNrVEBSITT OP ILUNOIB

Thb slogan, “Guns for Butter,”
which epitomized the German campaign
to re-arm, also powerfully expresses the
place of vegetable and animal fats and
oils in the modem industrial economy,
and more especially, in the economies
of warring nations. Numerous tales
and incidents reported in our daily
papers are constantly emphasizing and
re-emphasizing the strategic impor-
tance of fats and oils. Most of us have
read stories about the Germans limiting
the number of baths so that soap may
be saved. We are all aware that Ger-
many is raiding Denmark for its but-
ter, and that margarine is being strictly
rationed in Britain. Occasionally we

hear of such desperate measures as tiiat
taken by France in sending a portion
of its fleet to Dakar to escort back
freighters loaded with vegetable oils.
Yet few people realize that our own
country would also be faced by an acute
problem if our imports of vegetable oils
and fats were cut off.

The annual consumption of s.TiiTnii.1
and vegetable oils and fats in the
United States is over 71 pounds per
capita, a figure which far outstrips that
of any other large nation. Certainly,
in view of this, animal and vegetable
oils and fata must be considered as we
plan for national d^ense or for any
economic, political or military emer-

CAN THE UNITED STATES HAVE BUTTER AND GUNSf 448

gency which might arise. Since the
supply of animal fats and oils produced
in the United States is normally ade-
quate, the problems associated with
vegetable oils and fats will be stressed
in this discussion.

Perhaps the importance of vegetable
oils and fats in our everyday life, in
our industrial life and in our projected
preparedness program may best be em-
phasized by listing some of the products
which, in whole or in part, are obtained
from them. These run the gamut from
the oil in which our sardines are packed
to the high-grade lubricating grease
used in airplanes, from the paint on our
cars to the candle burning in a back-
woods home, and from the linoleum on
our kitchen floors to the shampoo we
use on our hair. In listing these prod-
ucts in the order of their quantitative
importance, first place is occupied by
shortening, vegetable fats having taken
over that function from lard (Pig. 1).
In second place is soap, about one half
of which is made from vegetable oils
and fats. Nearly all the best quality
soaps used for personal purposes are
manufactured from vegetable oils and
fats. Next in order is oleomargarine,
followed by other edible oils (salad oils,
etc.), and paints and varnishes. Less
important from the standpoint of
amount consumed, but of great impor-
tance because of their strategic values,
are such products as linoleum, oil cloth,
printing inks, high-grade lubricants,
and especially glycerine and nitrogly-
cerine, from which explosives are manu-
factured. Vegetable oil is also utilized
for quenching steel, as a flux in the tin-
plating process, and as a base for dyes.

Vegetable oils and fats are obtained
from a great variety of plants belong-
ing to a number of plant orders.
Usually the seed is the source of the oil,
although in some cases the oil is ob-
tained from the fleshy pulp of the fruit.
In the ease of the oil palm the oil is

obtained from both the pulp and the
kernel. Plant oils or fats are classiflied
mainly according to their dr3dng or
edible qualities or according to their con-
sistency. Drying oils are those whidu
upon exposure to the air, have their ex-
posed surfaces oxidized into a leathery
skin, and are thus invaluable for the pro-
duction of paints and varnishes. Some
oils are considered semi-drying, that is,
with but little processing can be made
into drying oils. Soybean oil may be
cited as an example of a semi-drying
oil. Edible oils are those which are
most palatable, which have high food
value and which usually are non-drying.
A wide variation in classification is pos-
sible since certain oils change from the
edible to the non-edible class, or from
the drying to the non-drying class, as
prices fluctuate or as new processes for
treating them are developed.

The basic difference between an oil
and a fat lies in their consistency at nor-
mal temperatures. Usually the original
plant product is an oil, but by the process
of hydrogenation this oil can be changed
into a fat. It was the perfecting of this
process of hydrogenation about forty
years ago that led to the introduction
of oleomargarine as a butter substitute.
Since then vegetable oils have been more
than co-equal to animal oils in world
consumption and trade. Even in the
United States, where animal oils and
fats are still significant, the average con-
sumption, exclusive of butter, is only 23
pounds per person as compared to a
vegetable oils and fats consumption of
over 30 pounds per person.

Almost three and one half billion
pounds of vegetable oils and fats were
consumed in the factories of the United
States in 1938. Just how the present
rearmament program will affect us is
problematical, but no doubt an increase
in consumption may be expected. Ap-
proximately 46.5 per cent, of the vege-
table oil and fat consumed in this conn-

THE SCIBNTIPIO MONTHLY

AAA

TIQ. 1. PBIMABY OILS AND FATS
CONSUMED IN U. B. FACTORIES — 1938. AN ANALY-
SIS OF THE SOURCES OF UNITED STATES YSOBTABLE

OILS AND FATS.

try was derived from cotton seeds, 16.7
per cent, was derived from coconuts, 9.2
per cent, from oil palm nuts, 9 per cent,
from flax seeds, and 7.1 per cent, from
soybeans (Fig. 2). The remaining 11
per cent, of our vegetable oil and fat was
derived from tung tree nuts, corn, pea-
nuts, rape seeds, perilla seeds, castor
beans, babassu palm nuts and a number
of other oil-producing species. Espe-
cially to be noted in this list are coconuts,
oil palm nuts, flax seeds, and among the
minor sources, tung tree nuts, castor
beans and babassu palm nuts, since our
entire supplies of the oils and fats de-
rived from these plants are imported.
Surprisingly enough, the United States
also imports small quantities of cotton
seed, corn and peanut oil. Of the three
and one half billion pounds of vegeta)}le
oils and fats consumed in our factories
in 1938, almost one half, or about one
and one half billion pounds, was im-
ported. These oils and fats come to us
principally from the Philippine Islands,
the Netherland East Indies, China, West
Africa, Argentina, Brazil and Japan.
The fact that we are now so dependent

upon outside sources for vegetable oils
and fats must be considered in charting
the course of American foreign diplo-
macy and agricultural economy.

Thus far, despite the present wars, our
vegetable oil trade has not been seriously
affected. Our African supplies have
been partially cut off, but since they
were already becoming less significant
with the shift of oil palm production to
Sumatra, no shortages have been created.
Our imports of tung oil and, secondarily,
peanut oil, from China have also been
curtailed. However, this curtailment
has not been too serious, since Hong
Kong is still an open port and even the
Japanese are not too unwiUing to act as
middlemen. The only result of the
European war thus far has been some
allocation of trade because certain oil-
bearing raw materials which formerly
went to England, Belgium and the Neth-
erlands for processing are now being
shipped directly to the United States.

In planning for future supplies of
vegetable oils and fats, particular atten-
tion must be paid to Southeastern Asia
and the adjacent East Indies. Over two
thirds of our imports, or almost one third
of all the vegetable oils and fats con-
sumed in this country, come from that
part of the world. Bubber and tin are

PRODUCED IN U. 8 . FACTORIES — 1988 . AN ANALY-
SIS OF TBB USES OF YISBTABLS OILS AND FATS IN
THE UNITED STATES.

CAN THE UNITED STATES HAVE BUTTEB AND GUNSf 446

not the only raw materials which should
influence the course of our diplomacy in
the Far East. Japanese aggression
could become especially serious if the
Philippines, from which we obtain 100
per cent, of our coconut oil, were cut off
from trade with us.

Two countries in South America con-
tribute substantial amounts of vegetable
oils and fats to the United States. From
Argentina we obtain about two thirds of
our linseed, and from Brazil we receive
cotton, peanut, castor and babassu oil.
Several other countries in South and
Central America are potential sources of
oil. If Southeastern Asia and the East
Indies were cut off from the United
States trade, we should have to depend
upon Latin America for the oils and fats
of tropical plants. This potentiality of
our Southern neighbors might well be
utilized in our present hemispherical
solidarity’^ campaign, since any effort on
our part toward encouraging production
of vegetable oils and fats in South
America would be of mutual benefit.

Admittedly, it would take a number of
years to establish this trade, but if we
are preparing for any eventuality, it
might be well for us to start now.

The question finally arises : How
would this nation fare if all these sources
of vegetable oils and fats were cut off
from us by war or blockade! The im-
mediate result, especially if this sever-
ance were sudden, would be an acute and
dangerous shortage for an indeterminate
period. The ultimate result would de-
pend upon our ability to make shifts in
our agricultural economy, to develop
substitutes and to make technological
changes. All this presupposes that we
would not be content to lower our living
standards to those which exist on Conti-
nental Europe.

Let us first consider our ability to
increase our domestic production of
vegetable oils and fats. Physical condi-
tions, chiefly climatic, make it impossible
for us to grow the coconut, oil and
babassu palms, which, together, now sup-
ply us with about one fourth of all our

FIG. 8. FLAX AOBEAGB, 192»«

TBB SPBIKQ WBSAT BILT 18 OXJE OftlAT FBOOTTOXNa ABJfiA.

* Figorsi 8| 4, 5 and 6, are printed through the eourteey of the XT. 8, Department of Agri-
culture.

446

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

vegetable oils and fats. All other sig* oped. However, to make this type of
nificant oil-producing plants, cotton, flax, plant profltable, oil prices would hsLYe to
tung, soybean, corn, castor bean, etc., can rise considerably,
be raised successfully in this country. Next on the list of oil-producing plants
Despite this, we now import vegetable which are grown in the United States is
oils and fats derived from all except one flax, whose seed (linseed) is the leading
of the plants just listed. Thus, any source of drying oil. At present we sup-
campaign for self-sufficiency would, per- ply about one third of our need. Most
force, have two objectives : first, to be- of this comes from the grain lands of the
come independent of outside sources for Dakotas (Fig. 3). In view of our large
the oils and fats of the plants we can annual wheat surplus, it would seem that
raise; and, second, by utilizing native the simplest solution to the problem
plants, to balance the deficit which would would be to turn wheat acreage over to
exist because we can not grow oil-pro- flax. However, flax is a difficult plant to
ducing palm trees. cultivate and harvest, and, in addition,

The leading native source of vegetable is much more subject to losses through
oil is cottonseed. Better methods of vagaries of weather, weed growth, insect
expression and complete use of all our pests and blight than is wheat, so that
seed would easily make up for the small even now, in spite of high protective
amount of cottonseed oil which is im- tariffs, it is not a popular crop. Perhaps
ported. However, under existing cotton some form of government crop insurance
prices, a great extension of acreage, suffi- to make it a less speculative crop would
cient to make up our deficit, seems im- encourage increased production. Some
probable. It might be stated at this small subsidization might also be neces-
point that a variety of cotton which pro- sary. If these measures were instituted,
duces little lint and a seed which has a flax acreage might be increased to about
high oil content has already been devel- the necessary 4,000,000 and self-suffl-

FIG. 4. SOYBEAN AGBEAGE, 1929

BOYBXANB ARB PRODUCED IN OUR CORN BELT AND MANY AREAS XK THE SOUTH.

CAN THE UNITED STATES HAVE BUTTEE AND GUNSt 447

PIG. 6. CHANGE IN COTTON ACBEAGE, 1929-1934

PXBHAPB SOBfB OP THE LAND TAKEN OUT OP COTTON PRODUCTION MIGHT BE DEVOTED TO OIIrPRODUO-

ING CROPS.

ciency be attained. The recent develop- an added incentive toward more flax pro-
ment of strains of flax producing good duction.

oil seed and flber suitable for linen (also A secondary source of drying oil is the
a need in this country) will probably be tung tree. The United States imports

PIG. 6. PEANUT ACBEAGE, 1929
riAiniTS AU AS XXOKLUCNT SOtnOS or XBIBUI on>.

448

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

85 per cent, of its need of this important
paint, lacquer and waterproofing mate-
rial from China. Tung oil also enters
into the manufacture of such products as
linoleum, oil cloth, brake lining and inks.
Since the Chinese supply was uncertain
even in pre-war years, tung tree orchards
were started in our Far South (southern
Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and north-
ern Florida) about forty years ago. To-
day, the lessons of production having
been learned, the United States is well
on the road to self-sufi9ciency, a goal
which might well be reached in the next
ten or fifteen years if the present rate
of increase is maintained. For the time
being, however, we are still dependent
upon China.

Since both drying and edible oil can
be obtained from the soybean, that source
of oil has unique value. So great are the
potentialities of the United States for
soybean production that we already sup-
ply all our own soybean oil needs with
ease. Large areas in the Com Belt are
almost ideal for its production. The
great surplus of com in recent years
would seem to indicate that this com
land could easily, and even more profit-
ably, be turned to the soybean, which also
has the advantage of being a legumin-
ous crop. Another large region of the
United States which is suitable for soy-
bean production is the South, where it
is now grown mainly as a forage crop
(Fig. 4). The 16 million acre reduction
in cotton acreage in this country in
recent years has certainly made land
available for raising soybeans (Fig. 5).
If soybean production could be tripled,
at least one third of our deficit of vege-
table oils and fats could be overcome.

Two other crops which might be pro-
duced in increasing amounts in our
South are the peanut (Fig. 6) and castor
bean. Peanut oil is an excellent edible
oil and could well take the place of either
the olive or cottonseed as a source of salad
oils and in margarine production. By

increasing our acreage only one fourth
we could become self-sulBcient. Even a
twofold or threefold acreage increase
should not be difficult. Castor bean oil
is an important source of lubricants,
particularly for use in aviation, and thus
has special strategic importance. Our
need could easily be supplied by domestio
production.

The case of com as a source of vege-
table oil is a puzzling one. This country
has always produced a tremendous quan-
tity of com, very little of which, how-
ever, is utilized as a source of oil. Dur-
ing the first World War com oil entered
the market to make up for the deficiency
in fats and oils which existed at that
time. Admittedly, this oil was for a
while inferior to other types, but was
very soon brought to a desirable quality
standard. Yet after the war, it almost
dropped out of sight in spite of exten-
sive advertising campaigns. Perhaps an-
other effort to educate the American
housewife to its desirability would be the
most effective wedge toward its increased
use. Com oil, along with soybean and
peanut oil, might be the answer to the
problem of making this country inde-
pendent in its supply of edible oils and
fats.

Although it is ph 3 rsically possible for
the United States to become free of for-
eign sources of vegetable oils and fats,
there are a number of “ifs” and “bats’*
which would make the freeing process a
long-time affair. Basically, most of the
difficulties are centered in the fact that
the education of both producer and con-
sumer would require years to complete.
It is also true that the farmer has always
been conservative in introducing new
crops or making sharp changes in his
cropping system. Though these changes
may be brought about more quickly by
bounties, subsidies, or tari&, all these
measures would result in increased
prices, which, in tom, might result in a

CAN THE UNITED STATES HAVE BUTTEB AND GUNS? 449

decreased demand. Such a condition
would be incompatible with our goal of
butter and guns.

To tide us over a transitional period
as smoothly as possible, substitutes for
vegetable oils and fats would have to be
utilized. Perhaps the best of these sub-
stitutes is animal oils and fats of which,
fortunately, the United States produces
a great surplus. Each year, until the
present European war, this country ex-
ported over a billion pounds of lard.
Much of this is now accumulating in
warehouses.

There are a number of objections to
permanently substituting animal oils
and fats for vegetable oils and fats.
Briefly, these are : their non-drying qual-
ity; tteir lower desirability for edible
purposes; and their undesirability for
soap-making purposes. If our acreage
of oil-producing plants were gradually
increased, our output of animal oils
and fats would automatically decrease
at a greater rate, since the acreage of
forage crops would become smaller.
Thus the present problem of over-pro-
duction of animal oils and fats would
also be partially solved. It should be
emphasized, however, that it would be
our anixnal oils and fats which would
best serve to carry us through any
period of shortage.

Other possible substitutes for vege-
table fats and oils are mineral oils and
chemically produced materials which
perform the same duties as oils and fats.
Even though mineral oils are a potential
raw material source of certain oils and
fats which could take the place of vege-
table oils and fats (an artificial tung
oil has already been perfected), the un-
certainty of future supplies and their

importance in a war economy makes
them unlikely substitutes. In the last
few years chemically produced deter-
gents, soap substitutes containing no oils
or fats, have received considerable atten-
tion and may prove to be a valuable
asset, since soap-making consumes 20
per cent, of our vegetable oils and fats.
At the present time, small amounts of
detergents are used as soap substitutea
Here again, the time factor becomes an
element to be considered, for the con-
struction and installation of the proper
apparatus and machinery can not be an
overnight process.

It thus appears that, if, in this coun-
try, we expect to have and to continue
to have our guns along with our butter,
we must be prepared for certain eventu-
alities. At present, the most serious
threat upon our supplies of vegetable
oils and fats lies in possible Japanese
aggression in the Far East. This threat
would be especially serious if the Philip-
pines were lost, because it would cer-
tainly be followed by a period of acute
shortage and technological change. If
we did not prevent such an eventuality,
our best opportunity to prepare for its
consequences would lie in ^e develop-
ment of South American sources, and
some changes in domestic production.
Of course, even the present or projected
South American supply could be cut off,
for example, by political unrest or by
German economic penetration. Unless
we are prepared to go through a rath«r
painful readjustment period of from
five to ten years, we must either be ready
to prevent certain eventualities or must
begin to prepare now for complete na-
tional self-sufficiency in vegetable oils
and fats.

THE CREATIVE YEARS: MEDICINE, SURGERY
AND CERTAIN RELATED FIELDS

By Dr. HARVEY C. LEHMAN

PROFESSOR OF PSYOHOLOOTy OHIO UNIVERSITY

During what years of their lives are
pioneer thinkers in medicine, surgery
and public sanitation most likely to make
their greatest contributions to the ad-
vancement of their fields, advances which
will be regarded by later generations as
priceless boons to humanity f In previ-
ous articles^ the fact has been emphasized
that generalizations with reference to
man’s intellectual productivity at vari-
ous chronological age levels are some-
times based upon one or a very few
exceptional cases. Impressionistic judg-
ments based upon so-called ‘‘illustrative
cases” are frequently fallacious. The
general picture of man’s creativity at
successive chronological age levels can
not be obtained by the use of “illustra-
tive cases,” unless it is definitely known
that the cited cases represent a well-se-
lected sampling. Therefore, the critical
student should always ascertain, if pos-
sible, whether the citations which are
submitted as “proof” are really fair and
typical and not outstanding exceptions.

Nor do means and medians yield a very
informative picture of the relationship
between chronological age and man’s cre-
ativity. The creative years may be en-
visaged best not by reference to “illus-
trative cases” which may have been
obtained by inadequate sampling or by
the use of a simple numerical average,
which may hide as much as it reveals, but
rather by study of age-curves (or statis-

1 (a) H. 0. Lehman, The Soientifio
Monthly, 48: 161-162, 1986. (b) J. B. Held-

ler and H. C. Lehman, T'he English Jowmal
(College Edition), 166: 294-804, 1987. (o) H.

0. Lehman, The Scxentifxo Monthly, 46: 66-
75, 1937, (d) H. 0. Lehman, The Research

Quarterly, 11: 8-19, 1938. (a) H. 0. Lehman

and B. W. Ingerham, The SoizNmnc Monthly,
48 : 431-443, 1989.

tical distributions) which reveal the rela-
tive productivity of all age groups.

It is the present writer’s thesis that
many of the studies heretofore published
have tended to present a distorted pic-
ture of man’s creativity. These earlier
studies have been honest, in so far as
conclusions which are based upon very
limited data can be honest, and they
have been interesting. But they have
been analogous to the lawyer’s one-sided
plea. Some writers, for example, have
presented an apparently strong case for
youth; others have made a special plea
for the aged. When controversy rages,
a middle position, though perhaps less
interesting, is likely to be more tenable
than is either extreme point of view.

Careful study of the relative produc-
tivity of the various age groups involves
among other things: (1) isolation of the
most important contributions, (2) iden-
tification of the contributors, (3) knowl-
edge of when the contributions were
made and (4) knowledge of the exact
birth and the death dates of the contribu-
tors. With the foregoing information it
becomes a routine task to ascertain for
each age group the average number of
contributions that should be placed to its
credit. The resultant averages should
reveal clearly the age groups that have
been most productive. One exception
to this last statement should be men-
tioned. It is quite impossible to know
the amount of time that must often have
elapsed between the birth of a great idea
and its public announcement. Obvi-
ously, the date of announcing an inven-
tion or a discovery does not enable us to
know the chronological age at which the
contribution was actually made. We
can know only that the contributions

THE CREATIVE YEARS

451

that are to be discussed herein occurred
not later than the chronological age to
which they are credited.

The problem of evaluation presents a
second diflSculty. How are the fruits
of genius to be evaluated t Does any
individual possess the technical knowl-
edge requisite for identifying the most
important contributions that have been
made in the fields of medicine, surgery,
sanitation and the likeT Would it not
be presumptuous for the layman to at-
tempt to evaluate the contributions
which have been made in these highly
specialized fields 1 Fortunately, in many
instances, the task of evaluation is one
that has already been performed by un-
intentional collaborators — ^by specialists
in the various fields of endeavor. In
one sense the present study is therefore
merely a by-product of previous studies
that Wve been made by recognized ex-
perts, who published their evaluations
under their own names and who there-
fore must have felt their professional re-
sponsibility for making just evaluations.

The utilization of appraisals that have
been published by well-known experts is
desirable for still another reason. It is
probable that most of the present writ-
er’s unwitting collaborators made their
appraisals without thinking at all about
the problem of age differences. Evalua-
tions thus made are all the more useful
for the study of age differences in pro-
ductivity, since they are likely to be im-
partial judgments in so far as the age
factor is concerned.

For example, in a book entitled ^*The
Fundamentals of Bacteriology”^ Profes-
sor C. B. Morrey presents a chronology
of the contributions which he regards as
the foundation stones of the science of
bacteriology. Morrey lists not only the
contributions but also the names of the
contributors and the years during which

*0. B. Morrer, *^Tlie Fundamentals of Bac-
teriology.’^ Third Bdition. Pbiladelpbia and
Kew York: Lea and Febiger, 1928. ]^. xiii +
844. (Bee the chronology on bacteriology on
pp. 88^6} •

each of the various advances was either
made or first published. With this es-
sential information at hand, the present
writer undertook the task of finding the
birth and the death dates of the various
contributors. Some of these dates were
found easily, some were found with diffi-
culty, and some of them could not be
found at all. The fact that some of the
birth and death dates are unrecorded
suggests that brilliant achievements are
not always recognized as such by an in-
dividual ’s contemporaries. If the note-
worthy contributions had been appraised
immediately at their true worth, surely
the birth and the death dates of the con-
tributors would have been recorded !

Fig. 1 presents the results obtained by
study of Morrey ’s chronology, namely,
the chronological ages at which 50 out-
standing discoveries were made by 41
pioneers in the field of bacteriology.
Since Fig. 1 presents the average num-

no. 1. AVKRAOB KTTICBKB 07 OdTTBXBTTFIONS 70
BAOTBBIOLOOT BURINa BACH FIVB-TBAB INTBBVAL
07 THB OONTRIBUTOBB’ LWBS. THIS OBAPH PBB-
SBNTS BATA 70B 41 INBIV1BUAL8 WHO MABB 60

00HTBIBUTX0N8.

ber of contributions at each chronological
age level, this figure makes proper allow-
ance for the fact that more of the con-
tributors were alive at the younger than
at the older age levels. Thus, in obtaining
the data set forth in Fig. 1, it was found
that, at the age interval 35 to 89 inclusive,
the average number of contributions
from each individual was 0.050, whereas.

452

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

at the age interval 55 to 59 inclnsive, the
average had fallen to 0.022. In Fig. 1
the curve is so drawn as to be only 0.022/
0.050 as high at ages 55 to 59 as at ages 35
to 39, thereby indicating that average
productivity was only about two fifths
as great at ages 55 to 59 as at ages 35 to
39.

If, regardless of the number of indi-
viduals that remained alive, the older age
groups had contributed at the same aver-
age rate as did age group 35 to 39, the
curve in Fig. 1 would have remained as
high at the older age levels as it is at the
age interval 35 to 39. Actually, the curve
in Fig. 1 descends rather abruptly after
attaining its peak at the age interval 35
to 39. Fig. 1 thus seems to reveal clearly
and unmistakably that, in proportion to
their numbers, men have made contribu-
tions to the science of bacteriology most
frequently at ages 35 to 39, inclusive.

Let us see what has occurred in fields
other than bacteriology. Fig. 2 presents
the chronological ages at which 59 im-
portant works were first published by 54
noted physiologists. Data for the con-
struction of Fig. 2 were obtained from
Professor J. F. Fulton’s Selected Bead*
ings in the History of Physiology.

no. 2. AVERAGE NUMBER 07 CONTRIBUTIONS TO
PHYSIOLOGY DURING EACH nVE-YSAR INTERVAL 07
I'BE CONTRIBUTORS* LIVS8. THIS 0RA7B PRE-
SENTS DATA 70R 54 INDIVIDUALS WHO MADE 59

CONTRmUTIONS.

A J. F. Fulton, * * Selected Headings in the His-
tory of Physiology." Springfldd, 111.: Thomas,
1930. Pp.« + 817.

Professor Fulton presents not only the
names of the contributors and their con-
tributions, but also the birth and the
death dates of the contributors and the
year during which each of the several
contributions was first published. Com-
putation of average productivity at each
chronological age level (see Fig. 2) was
therefore a relatively easy task.^ It is
evident at once that Fig. 2 bears much
resemblance to Fig. 1. In each of these
curves a definite peak occurs at ages 35 to
39, inclusive, and beyond this age interval
both curves exhibit marked declines.

A goiter chronology was found in
Professor Robinson’s ‘‘Syllabus of Medi-
cal History.”® In the latter chronology
Robinson endeavored to list fundamental
contributions which have to do with
either knowledge of, or the treatment of,
goiter. Fig. 3 is based upon 52 such con-
tributions that were made by 40 dif-
ferent individuals. In Fig. 3 it was
necessary to include the works of both
living and deceased contributors in order
to obtain sufficient data to 3 rield an age-
curve. Despite this fact, the peak of the

4 Since it is not possible to study the entiie
life work of individuals who are still living and
achieving, Figs. 1 and 2 present data for de-
ceased individuals only. For these the record is
complete, and future research wiU probably
change it only slightly, if at all. There is at least
one other important reason for omitting the con-
tributions of living individuals. The evaluation
of contributions that are made by one’s contem-
poraries is an extra-hazardous undertaking, even
when the evaluations are made by experts. With
the passing of time a better perspective is likely
to be attained, and contributions can then be
appraised at more nearly their real worth. Thus,
the significance of Gregor Mendel’s important
paper on genetics was not fully realised until
some years after Mendel ’s death. And the pres-
ent writer has assembled data which seem to
suggest that this was not an isolated inatanee.
Often achievements which are hailed with ac-
claim by one’s contemporaries are regarded as
unimportant by a critical posterity. Tkerefore,
unless otherwise stated, the graphs that are pre-
sented herein wiU be based upon the works of
deceased individuals only.

sy. Bobinson, "Syllabus of Medical His«
tory.’’ New York: Froben Preas, Ihe., 1958*
Pp. 110. (See p. 88.)

THE OEEATIVB YEABS

FIG. 8. AVEEAOl NUMBER OP 00NTBIBUTI0K8 PEE
PiyS-TEAB INTERVAL WBIOH HAVE TO XK> EITHER
WITH KNOWLEDGE OP OR THE TREATMENT OP
OOinSE. THIS OBAPH PBBSSimi DATA FOB 40
unnriDUAiiB who kadi 00 ooNTBisimoNs.

curre ia again attained at ages 35 to 39,
and a sharp descent occurs thereafter.

Fig. 4 presents data for 216 contribu-
tions to the science of pathology which
were made by 170 different individuals.

m. 4. AVBBAOl HOKBBB OF OOMTBlBUnOHB TO
PATBOIiOOT VOBIHa BAOB fm-YBAB nraSBTAIi OF
THB OOHTBDtrrOBS’ LIVBS. THIS OBAFH PBB-
SStTM DATA FOB 170 nUnWOUALS WHO KADS S16

OOMTBIBnTIONS.

The list of pathological milestones was
assembled and published by Professor
B. B. Erumbhaar.* In Fig. 4 the peak
which appears at ages 35 to 39 is even
more narrow than are the peaks which

• B. B. Kramthasr (Bditor), “Olio Madks:
A Serial of Tzbatn on the Elitory of Modi-
eiae.’’ XIZ, “Pathdogy," by B. B. Knunb-
hear. New Toritt Penl B. Hoeber, lae., Medl-
esl Book Bepurtsuat of Harper and Brothers,
U87. Pp. xrii+MHi.

are to be found in the three figures that
precede Fig. 4.

Fig. 5 presents additional data from
the field of pathology. The data for !1^.
5 were obtained from a book by Profess
sor E. B. Long entitled “Selected Head-
ings in the History of Pathology.”^ Al-
though Fig. 5 presents data for only 80
contributions by 27 deceased individuals,
it is of interest that this very sdect group

no. 6. AVBBAOa NTJXBBB of OOHTBIBDTIONS TO
PATHOLOOT DOBma BAOH FITE-TBAB INTEETAL OF
THB 00HTBIBUT0B8' UTES. THIS OBAPH PBB-
SENTS DATA FOB 27 mDlVIDUAIH WHO KADS 20

00NTBIBDI10H8.

of cases yields a curve in which the i>eak
occurs once again at ages 35 to 39, in-
clusive. It should perhaps be stated that
Fig. 5 was smoothed from ages 40 to 80
indusive by taking ten years, instead of
five, as the unit. This procedure in-
creases the number of cases in each age
group. Irregularities are thus dimi-
nated, and the general trend of the age
differences is brought out more clearly.

Figi 6 sets forth 89 advances in the
sdence of anatomy which were made by
70 individuals. The contributions used
in the construction of Fig. 6 were listed
in F. H. Garrison’s “An Introduction
to the History of Medicine.”* Thislat-

*B. B. long, Bditort **Seleetad Besdlags
In Pathology from HtppoeratM to Virchow.’*
Spriagfleld, HL: Thomas, 1989. Pp. slT-t-SOl.

• P. H. Garrison, *^An IntrodtMtion to the
History of MediebM.*’ Ponrth BditioB. PhOa-
dalphta and London: W, B. Batmdors OoB^paiqr,
1929. Pp. 996. (A chronology of mediclae and
pnblle hygiene is given on pp. 809 jf.)

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

c)ironoto^a*i

710. 6. IVEEAGE NTTHBSB 07 AOVANCSB THAT
WEBB MADE IN ANATOMT DTJEINO EACH TIVE'TSAB
mTEBYAL 07 THE SCZENTIBTS’ LIVES. THIS
O&APH PBESENTS DATA 70B 70 INDIVIDUALS WHO
MADE 89 GONTBIBUnONS.

ffO Cft 90 40 45 BO M CO M TO ft M M

CiaroBoiati— i io—.

m. 7. AVKUOK KITXBXB oi* inmiOAL Disoovm-
ns AMO IMVlMnOMB THAT WZBX KAOS DUBIMO
lAOH nVE-TXAB IMTIKTAL OF THl OOMratBOTOBS’
urns. THIS OBAPB PBB8IMT8 DATA Fl» 1S9 XM-
omoirAXiS who wads 168 oomtubutions.

ter book contains an extensive chronology
of medicine, broadly defined, and public
hygiene. It will be noted again that Fig.
6 does not differ very greatly in general
outline from the figures which have pre-
ceded it.*

Fig. 7 is based upon 188 medical dis-
coveries and inventions that were made
by 159 individuals. The data for this
figure were found in B. J. Stem’s ’’So-
cial Factors in Medical Progress.”^*
Stem presents a long list of multiple
but independent discoveries and inven-
tions in the fidd of medicine. Stem as-
sembled his list in an attempt to discover
whether inventions and discoveries in
medicine would not have been made irre-
spective of the individuals who are now
heralded as great innovators. On the
basis of his extensive 'researches Stem
asserts boldly that discoveries and inven-
tions depend largely upon antecedent
contributions and cumulative social
gains. He believes that the alleged
genius is largely the product of his en-

■ By identifying in Qsrriaon’s dironology
those contributions which have been of primwy
importanoe to the science of anatomy. Dir. BnA
Elliott, of Ohio VniTersity, gave the present
writer expert assistance in this phase of the
present study. Thanks are expressed herewith.

icB. J. Stem, "Social Factors in Medical
Progress." New York; Oolumbia University
Press, 1627. Pp. 186. (See pp. 11 ff.)

vironment, the instrument through which
an idea or a creation receives expression.
Stem therefore insists that practically
the same progress would have been made
in medicine if any or all of the popularly
recognised research heroes had never
lived. Whether the validity of Stem’s
contention be granted or denied. Fig. 7
and the other graphs that are presented
herein certainly suggest that chronologi-
cal age is a very important factor in
medical progress.

Fig. 8 is based upon 97 contributions to
surgery which were made by 73 indi-
viduals.^^ It should perhaps be men-
tioned at this point that the present arti-
cle deals not at all with the individual
surgeon’s technical or diagnostic skill
but with recognised advances in the field
of surgical knowledge and practice. It
is quite possible that a surgeon’s own skill
may reach its peak later in life, but that
his important contributions to his pro-
fession are more likely to occur as indi-
cated in Fig. 8.

The data for Fig. 8 were obtained from
F. H. Garrison’s ’’An Introduction to
the History of Medicine.”^* Although

XX Dr. D. H. Biddle, a praetieiiig phyilelaii of
Atheui, Ohio, identUled la Oarrieon’i ebronol-
ogy tboee eontribatious wbieb bare to do pzi*
marBy witii eurgeiy. The present writer is
grateful for Dr. Biddle’s able eooperarion.

xs F. H. Garrison, op. olt.

THE CEEATIVE YEARS

m. 8. AVERAGE NUMBER OT ADVANCES IN SUR-
GICAL TECHNIQUE THAT WERE MADE DURING EACH
FIVE- YEAR INTERVAL OF THE CONTRIBUTORS ’ LIVES.
THIS GRAPH PRESENTS DATA FOR 73 INDIVIDUALS
• WHO MADE 97 CONTRIBUTIONS.

the peak of Fig. 8 occurs at ages 35 to
39, it is worthy of mention that the dec-
rement from ages 37 to 57 is less marked
than are the decrements which are to be
found at corresponding age levels in the
curves which have preceded Fig. 8. This
more gradual decline in Fig. 8 may pos-
sibly be due in part to greater delay in
the announcement of surgical advances.
Or it may be that, with advance in
chronological age, contributions to sur-
gery fall off more slowly than do con-
tributions to the other fields that have
been discussed herein.

Fig. 9 sets forth data for 147 classical
descriptions of disease which were writ-
ten by 102 different authors. These de-
scriptions appeared in Dr, Ralph Major’s
book, ‘‘Classical Descriptions of Dis-
ease. ' For the benefit of any who may
wish to repeat the present study the fol-
lowing comments regarding the method
of tabulating the data from Professor
Major’s book are included at this point.
The dates of the classical descriptions of
disease were utilised only when dates of
first publication were available. Po«#-
mortem publications were ignored when-
ever it was impossible to ascertain when

H. Major, Descriptions of

Disease. ’’ Sprini^eia, lUinois. Thomas, 1932.
Pp. xxvii-f 680,

CtewolaglMl

PIG. 9. AVERAGE NUMBER OF CLASSICAL DESORIP-
TIONB OF DISEASES WHICH WERE FIRST PUBLISHED
DURING EACH FIVE-YEAR INTERVAL OF THE WRIT-
ERS ’ LIVES. THIS GRAPH PRESENTS DATA FOB 102

AUTHORS WHO MADE 147 CONTRIBUTIONS.

such publications were written." If
Professor Major quoted from a transla-
tion or from some edition other than the
first edition, the excerpt was counted only
when the date of first publication was
also available. If excerpts from a given
source study appeared under more than
one disease-heading in Professor Major’s
compilation, the source was counted as
many times as excerpts therefrom were
reproduced in Major’s book. For exam-
ple, age group 80-84 received five credits
solely because at 80 O. B. Morgagni pub-
lished a book entitled ”De sedibus et
causis morborum,” which is quoted at
five different places in Major’s “Classical
Descriptions of Disease. ’ ’ Similarly, age
group 30-34 received three credits be-
cause at 30 James Hope published a book
which is quoted by Dr. Major at three
different places. In Fig. 9 the work of
one man, G. B. Morgagni, is responsible
for the rather marked rise in the curve'
at ages 80 to 84. Although age group 80
to 84 probably does not deserve sole
credit for Morgagni’s oft-quoted pub-
lication, sole credit was alloted to this
age group because it seemed to the pres-

M The pott-mortem pnhlioatioiui were few ia
wunher. The diseardi^ of some of these port-
mortem eontributlona has pnAtably not inflU'
eneed the shape of the age-eurves veiy matetially.

456

THE SCIBNTIPIO MONTHLY

eat vriter that it would be highly eubjec-
tive and unfair not to make this allocation
of credit.

^ general, it will be noted that Figs. 8
and 9 closely resemble each other. Both
of these age-curves attain their peaks at
ages 35 to 39. Both carves sustain them-
selves fairly well until age interval 55-
59 is attained, and both exhibit a decided
decrement beyond age 60. It is possible
that Fig. 9 sustains itself so well at the
upper-age levels because of the time-lag
that may have sometimes occurred be-
tween the date of writing a daasical de-
scription and the date of first publishing
it. This latter hypothesis certainly ac-
counts for the final rise of the age-curve
in Fig. 9. It is well known that Morgagni
spent many years writing his famous
book. On the other hand, the relatively
slow falling off of the curve in Fig. 9 (at
ages 37 to 57) may be due in part to the
fact that in many instances the classical
description of a disease must be based
upon prolonged experience with the dis-
ease in question.

Fig. 10 presents information regard-
ing the discovery and introduction of 73
drugs and remedial agents employed in
medicine. The 73 contributions were
made by 44 persons. The chronology was
obtained from Power and Thompson’s
' ‘ Chronologia Medica. ’ Fig. 10 attains
its peak at ages 30 to 34, inclusive, thus
providing the only instance in the present
study in which an age-curve fails to at-
tain its peak at ages 35 to 39.

In his book, *‘A Hundred Years of
Pf(ychology,”“ J. C. Flugel has pub-
lished a chronological table of what he
describes as “some major events in the
history of modem psychology.” It was
possible to obtain birth and death dates

IS Sir D’Arey Power and 0. J. 8. Tltompioii,
"Ohronologia Medico : A Handlist of Persons,
Periods and Hvents in the Historj of Medi-
cine." New York: Panl B. Hoeber, Inc., 1028.
Pp. iv + 278. (See pp. 287 #.)

i*J. 0. Plugel, "A Hundred Tears of Vnj'
ebology." New York: The Macmillan Corn-
panjr, 1988. Pp. 884.

CkroBolaitaal awa.

m. 10. AYBRAQl NUMLBBE OT DRUGS AKD B81CX-
DIAli AGENTS SICPLOTED XN ICEDIOZNB WHICH
WERE EITHER DISCOVERED OSL INTRODUCED DURING
EACH VXVE-TEAR INTERVAL 07 THE CONTRIBUTOBB ’
LIVES. THIS GRAPH PRESENTS DATA TOR *44 IN-
DIVIDUALB WHO MADE 78 CONTBIBUTIONB.

for 50 deceased individuals who made 85
contributions. Fig. 11 reveals the re-
sultant age-curve. The peak again occurs
at ages 35 to 39, inclusive.

Fig. 12 presents 801 miscellaneous ad-
vances in medicine and in public hygiene
which were made by 537 individuals all
of whom are now deceased. The data
were obtained from F. H. Garrison’s
book, ''An Introduction to the History of
Medicine. Garrison’s extensive list
includes some of the contributions that
were listed also in the other chronologies

TIG, 11. AVERAGE NUMBER OF OONTBXBUTIONB TO
P8TGH0L0GT DURING EACH FXVB-TEAR INTERVAL
OF THE CONTRIBUTORS* LIVES. THIS GRAPH FBB-
SENTS DATA FOR 60 INDIVIDUALS WHO MADS 86

CONTRIBUTIONS.

17 F. H. GRrrisoR, op.

THE CBEATIVB YEARS

467

tliat liave been employed in the present
study. Therefore, some of the advances
utilised in the construction of Fig. 12
were used previously in the construction
of the other graphs that have been pre-
sented. Many of the 801 contributions,
however, have not been previously em-
ployed.

ChrSHSlMtwt ASM,

m. 12. AVKBAQl NUKBKE Or ADVANCES IN IIEDI.
CINE AND PUBLIC HTOIENE WEIGH WEBE MADE
DUBINO EACH nVX-TBAB INTEBVAL OP THE CON-
TBDDTOBS’ UVEB. THIS OBAPH PBBBENTS DATA
POE 037 INDITIDUALB WHO MADE 801 OONTBIBU-

TI0N8.

It will be noted that Fig. 12 has a
smoother appearance than have most of
the age-curves which precede it. This
jSnding is due in part perhaps to the fact
that Fig. 12 is based upon a relatively
large number of cases. Like ten of the
deven figures which preceded it. Fig. 12
shows a peak at ages 85 to 39, inclusive.
On the whole, the assembled data strongly
suggest that, in proportion to their num-
bers, men have made contributions to
medicine most frequently while they
were still in their thirties. In eleven of
the twelve age-curves that are shown
herein the peak of productivity occurs at
ages 85 to 89, inclusive. In the one re-
maining curve the peak occurs at ages 30
to 84, inclusive.

Fincn

Bbicabkb

In the preparation of this artide the
oontributiona of great men have been
atndied. Oblleotively, these men have
probably done more for humanity than
have aU the warriors and statesmen and

politicians who ever lived. It has been a
privilege to contemplate the achieve-
ments of these creators of modem medi-
cine and surgery. It is a pleasure to
know that the age-long search for new
means of controlling disease and h uman
suffering is to-day receiving more positive
aid and encouragement than perhaps
ever before in the history of the race.

In the field of medicine, as in other
fidds, man’s progress has frequently been
opposed by ignorance, bigotry, stupid-
ity, ridicule, intolerance and the pressure
of poverty. Religious bdiefs too have
often been a major obstade to further
immediate advance. Borne potential con-
tributors to medicine have perhaps been
crushed by one or more of these hostile
forces; others possibly have only been
stimulated by them to fight more vigor-
oudy for their convictions. William
Harvey reported on the circulation of the
blood when he was past fifty, but there is
evidence that he discovered this phenom-
enon some years earlier and ddayed pub-
lication as a matter of precaution. His-
tories of medicine reveal that such dday
in making announcements of new medical
discoveries has been frequent. There
often were very good reasons for with-
holding such announcements. For ex-
ample, when Harvey finally published his
discovery that the blood circulates in the
human i^dy his professional colleagues
only jeered him and there was an im-
mediate falling off in Harvey’s medical
practice. Many of his patients refused
to be treated any longer by one who gave
such clear evidence of what seemed to be
obvious insanily.**

Because of the time-lag that must often
have occurred between the date of a
discovery and the date of its publication,
it seems evident that, at the upper-age
levels, the accompanying age-eurves are
too high rather than too low. As for the
general shape of the curves, and particu-
larly the age intervals at which the peaks
are found, it is tim bdief of the presmt
writer that these'are as accurate a picture

U IhUU, p. 84ft.

458

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

of the relative productivity of the various
age groups as can be obtained with the
data that are at present available.

In the first paragraph of this article a
warning was uttered about the erroneous
impression that is likely to ensue if one
depends too much upon one’s impression-
istic judgment. History provides some
conspicuous instances in which impres-
sionistic judgments have been mislead-
ing. That oft-misquoted remark which
was made by Sir William Osier in 1905
will doubtless be recalled by many who
read this article. Before quoting Osier’s
statement it will be desirable to review
briefly the’ circumstances under which
the statement was made. Dr. Osier had
served as professor of clinical medicine
at The Johns Hopkins University School
of Medicine from 1889 to 1905. At the
latter date he was appointed regius pro-
fessor of medicine at Oxford University.
At a banquet which was held in his honor
Dr. Osier gave a farewell address. Be-
cause so many persons had expressed
their dismay over his departure, Dr.
Osier, with becoming modesty and in a
spirit of levity, assured those persons that
his departure was inconsequential. In
making this remark Osier, who at that
time was 56 years of age, meant to imply
that his most important work had already
been done. In the farewell address which
followed Osier stated in somewhat greater
detail his thesis that the effective, vitaliz-
ing, moving work of the world is likely to
be done by men who are between the ages
of 25 and 40. The following quotation
is taken from a book by Lambert and
Goodwin.^®

One of Osier ’b addresses brought him un*
merited notoriety. The oeeasion was his f are-
weU address at Johns Hopkins. In it he said:

have two fixed ideas well known to my
friends, harmless obsessions with which t some-
times bore them, but which have a direct bear-
ing on this important problem. The first is the
comparative uselessness of men over forty years

B. W. Lambert and B. M* Goodwin, '^Medi-
cal Leaders from Hippocrates to Osier,'* p* 826
/. Indianapolis: The Bobbs-MerrlU Company,
1929. Pp. 881.

of age. This may seem shocking and yet, read
aright, the world's history bears out the state-
ment. Take the sum of human achievement in
action, in science, in art, in Uterature — subtract
the work of the men above forty, and while we
should miss great treasures, even priceless trea-
sures, we would practically be where we are to-
day. . . . My second fixed idea is the useless-
ness of men above sixty years of age, and the
incalculable benefit it would be in commercial,
political, and in professional life if , as a matter
of course, men stopped work at this age. ' ' He
then went on in a semi-humorous vein to refer
to a novel of Anthony Trollope's describing a
college which men entered at sixty for a year's
period of contemplation before their peaceful
departure by chloroform. '^Whether Anthony
TroUope’s suggestion of a coUege and chloro-
form should be carried out or not," he said, "I
have become a little dubious, as my own time is
getting so short." Unfortunately, the press
during a time of lull in actual news scented a
sensation in his remarks and soon head-lines
appeared saying that "Dr. Osier Becommends
Chloroform for Men of Sixty." This precipi-
tated a wide-spread discussion often heated and
even bitter by those of whom many had never
read what he had actually said. A new phrase
— ^to oslerize — ^was added to the language indi-
cating the extinction of men of sixty. Osier
recognised that he was the victim of misguided
reportorial seal, that explanations under the cir-
cumstances were useless, and let the storm blow
itself out.

The comments and the criticisms which
were elicited by the distorted form in
which Osier's remarks received world-
wide attention would make a long bibli-
ography. Curiously enough, fate seems
to have decreed that Oder will be remem-
bered longest for a remark which he did
not make.

In the foregoing quotation Dr. Oder
speaks of "the eomparatwe uselessness
of men over forty years of age" and of
"the uselessness of men above sixty years
of age.” (The italics are mine.) Al-
though the age-curves that accompany the
present article attain their peaks in the
thirties, analysis of the data fails to sup-
port the thesis that men cease to mhfce
useful contributions at any qMoifie
chronological age levd. On the contrary,
these data suggest that it is posdble for
individuals to think creativdy and to
make invaluable contributions at prae-

THE CREATIVE YEARS

XABUI 1

StlKMART or FlNDlNOS WITH BanBIMO TO THS CBaATlTI TBJJW IM MtelCIIOl

Data

utadin

Source of data

No. of
contri-
butions

No. of
contri-
butors

Ave.

contri-

butions

per

contri-

butor

Median

age

Mean

age

Standard

deylation

Teafsol^

maximnitt

prodne*

tlvity

Fig. 1

C. B. Morrey

1.22

38.80

41.20

12.06

35-^

Fig. 2

J. F. Fulton

1.09

41.33

43.50

12.80

85-^9

Fig. 3

V. S. Robinson

40*

a. 30

37.33

40.10

11.60

Fig. 4

B. B. Krumbhaar

216

170

1.27

42.50

44.76

13.10

86-SO

Fig. 3

B. R. Long

1.11

43.00

46.67

14.00

35-^9

Fig. 6

F. H. Garrison

1.27

36.38

38.85

11.70

36-39

Fig. 7

B. J. Stern

188

160

1.18

39.50

41.82

12.15

36-39

Fig. 8

F. H. Garrison

1.33

42.30

43.89

10.45

35-39

Fig. 9

R. H. Major

147

102

1.44

43.79

46.61

13.80

35-39

Fig. ao

Power and Thompson. .

1.66

34.70

37.02

11.26

80-84

Fig. 11

J. C. Flugel

1.70

42.76

44.60

11.30

86-80

Fig. 12

F. H. Garrison

801

537

1.49

41.18

43.17

12.45

35—39

* Data for aome living contrlbutora are Included In tUa curve.

tically every chronological age level be-
yond early youth. De Reaumur, for
example, was 69 years old when he
carried out his memorable observations
upon the digestive juices of his pet kite.
And, of the 87 works that are included
in his “Selected Readings in the History
of Physiology,"*" Pulton reports that 42
of them were written when their authors
were past forty.

To cite such facts without surveying all
the pertinent data may be misleading.
“What is to be found when such a survey
is madet In Table I the sixth column
sets forth the median chronological ages
of the contributors whose works have been
employed in constructing the 12 graphs
that accompany this article. It will be
noted that five of the twelve medians fall
between ages 80 and 40, and that seven of
them fall beyond age 40. The fact that
the mid-point of the twelve medians lies
at age 41.25 implies that, although the
rate of output was greatest prior to age
forty, only about half of the sum total
of these brilliant medical contributions
were made (or first published) prior to
age forty. This situation will be readily
understood if it is noted that the age-
eurves fall much more dowly than they
rise. It seems obvious that, in medicine
and its allied fields, creative thinking
does not cease at age forty or even at
age sixty.

w j. y. yoitm, e|i. 0<t.

Let us examine Table II, which sets
forth the average number of contribu-
tions per five-year interval. Forty-nine
of the averages that are shown in Table
II are based upon the works of individ-
uals who were less than forty years of
age, but 87 of these averages are based
upon the contributions of individuals
who were past forty years of age at the
time of announcing their discoveries. A
total of 1,888 medical contributions was
utilized in the preparation of Table 11.**
Tabulation of the ages of those who were
responsible for these 1,888 medical con-
tributions reveals that 906 of the contri-
butions (48 per cent) were announced
by individuals when they were less
than forty years of age, whereas 982 of
them (52 per cent.) were either made or
first published by individuals who were
past forty years of age. These figures
again emphasize the fact that a distinc-
tion nee^ to be made between rate of
contributing and the sum total of output
of very superior contributions.

Table HI, which is based upon data
taken from Qarrison,** brings out the
individual differences in the chronologi-
cal ages of the contributors even more

n This total was obtalaed ty eounting oaah
eontrilration as mai^ tlmss as It was listed ia
the Taiiovs ehroaolo^es. Some of the eoateitm-
tiona wen therefoie eonated au>ie thaa oaoe.
The differeaee that woald have resulted at say
oae age level ia TaUe n had sueh dupliaitleB
beea avoided is probaUy sli^t.

a* F. H. Oarriaoa, op. ett.

460

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

TABXJD n

Avseaob Numbsb or CoNmxBTmoiri Pnt Fivb-Tiae JxnmKfAL*

CbroQologicgl age intenral

Ifi-

20-

SO-

85-

40-

45-

SO-

60-

65-

70-

75-

80-

85-

Fig.

.005

.101

.030

.040

,050

.020

.085

.011

.022

.028

.006

Fig.

.007

.019

.034

,050

.081

.016

.020

.028

.000

.026

.001

Ftg.

.010

.030

.060

,005

.030

.021

.000

.029

.009

.021

.002

Vlg.

.006

.024

.031

,055

.OSS

.020

.019

.084

.021

.014

.007

.011

.OlA

Fig.

.022

.038

,040

.015

.0S2

.024

.008

.026

.000

.029

.018

Fig.

.003

.022

.031

.044

,055

.036

.034

.005

.028

.009

.000

.009

.011

Fig.

.009

.027

.036

,054

.033

.036

.011

.015

.014

.012

.000

.014

.000

.022

Fig.

.003

.016

.044

.050

.041

.037

.032

.082

.008

.010

.000

.017

.056

Fig.

.009

.016

.038

,055

.038

.034

.082

.033

.017

.023

.012

.041

Fig. 10

.046

.054

.074

.047

.034

.040

.031

.006

.000

.024

Fig. 11

.028

.032

,080

.056

.058

.030

.024

.032

.013

.000

.020

•

Fig. 12

.001

.011

.026

.045

,050

.045

.042

.080

.029

.018

.011

.009

.007 .019

* The peak of each atatiatieal dlatribotion la italldaed.
t Thla figure includea data for aome liying eontrllratora.

dearly. Thus, Table III reveals that 18
per cent, of the 801 contributions listed
by Garrison were either made or first
announced by persons of ages 35 to 89,
indusive, that 4 per cent, of them were
first published by persons of ages 60 to
64, indusive, that 10 per cent, of them
were first published subsequent to age 60,
and so forth.

Letters that have been received from
persons who read Gie first of this series of
artides** afford convincing evidence that,
in spite of all that may be said by way of
explanation, the accompanying age-
curves will be misleading to some readers.
For example, one individual who was
permitted to see these age-curves prior to
their publication remarked that in his
opinion these curves rise and fall “much
too rapidly.” Further iconversation re-
vealed that this individual was laboring
under the misapprehnsion that these age-
curves are intended to picture the
growth and the dedine of individual abil-
ity to do creative thinking.

The present stud^ does not pretend to
measure any hypothetical “ability” to
do creative work. This study deals only
with behavior — ^the specific kinds of be-
havior that have been cited. If behavior
were due soldy to “ability,” the inter-
pretation of the data would be very much
simplified. In order to picture individ-
ual growth and dedine in creative ahUity
it would be necessary to measure (meative

*f E. 0. Lehman, op. «<(.-

TABUS in

(A) Numni or UiecwxAiiaoue Avvamcm in Umn-
cam AND IN Pdbuc Htoihnn Whicb Wnnn SUM
DiwiMa Bach Fivn-tnan Intnbval or Tbnin
liiTM Bt 83T iNDiriDDAU Am. on Whom
ANN Now Dncbahu), (B) Pn Cbnt. or nn
Total or 801 Conthbdtionb Which
Wbbn Uaob Dobino Bach Fitb-tbab

iNTBBVAb AND (C) PBB CBNT. THAT

Wbbb Uadb Sobbbqdbnt to TRB
BaoiNNiHO or Bach Fivb-tbab
INTBRTAL. DATA tBOM

F. H. Gabbibon

Age

gr<rap

No. of
eont

Per cent,
of total

Per cent made
•ubeequent to
▼arioaeagee

Percent.

Age

Percent.

15-10

0.5

100

aO-2A

99.5

26-20

80-34

85-89

121

148

AO-AA

116

45-49

104

50-54

2S.0

55-59

60-64

65-69

5-5

70-74

75-79

80-84

0.5

85-89

• # 4

• ft ft ft

90-94

• ft •

• ft ft ft

Total

100

ft ft

ft ft ft ft

ability in the same individuals at succes-
sive chronological age levels and over a
long period of time. Although the pres-
ent writer has not assmnbled sndi data,
nor does he know how this could be done,
it seems probable that individual age-
curves portraying creative ability, if suoh
curves could be obtained, would reveal a
much more gradual rise and a much more
gradual dedine than do the age-curves
whidi are induded in this artide.

It may well be that future goierations
will not take aerioudy' many of the urea-

THE CEEATIVB YBABS

eiit*day attempts to measure the *‘intelli-
genee” of adults of widely varying ages.
Can intelligence be disentangled from
such other factors as: (1) motivation to
learn ; (2) pressure to utilize fully what
has been learned; (3) the plasticity of
the nervous system ; (4) relatively fixed,
tmalterable attitudes; (5) level of func-
tioning; (6) physical stamina; (7) en-
vironmental opportunity; and the liket
Is it possible to motivate the older indi-
vidual to the same extent that the youth
can be motivated, if the oldster has at-
tained many of his life goals, and if the
youth has reached few of his goals! Is
it valid to assume that in our rapidly
changing civilization the older adult has
had the same intellectual diet (oppor-
tunity to learn) as has the younger
adult! The present writer knows of no
evidence which permits an afSrmative
answer to the foregoing queries. Nor
does the present writer believe that it has
been possible for psychologists to apply
the law of the single variable when mak-
ing their studies of ‘‘-adult intelligence.”

The fact that the age-curves apply
only to group behavior is not the sole
reason why they fall so rapidly. It seems
that a second factor which causes the
rapid early decrement is the very super-
ior quality of the performance. In pre-
vious articles** data were published which
suggest that the shape of an age-curve
varies both with the tST^ of function that
is measured and also with the excellence
of the performance. Thus, very superior
books are likely to be written during a
somewhat narrower age range than are
books of lesser merit. The foregoing situ-
ation seems to hold also for a number of
other bdiaviors-^for musioal composi-
tion, for athletic performance and for
several kinds of scientiflo endeavor.**
For the above types of behavior, the more
noteworthy the performance, the more
rapidly does the resultant age-curve de-

■■Data idileii rapport the shore etatamaat
vlth relsrmeo to ed^tlfle radearor are not yet
ready for ptiUieaUoa.

461

scend after attaining its peak. It there-
fore seems safe to conclude that quality
of performance is one reason why the
accompanying age-curves fall so rapidly.

Just why brilliant attainment in these
diverse fields of endeavor should cease at
earlier age levels than does more medi- '
ocre performance the present writer does
not know. It is easy to speculate with
reference to the canse-and-effect relation-
ship; it is much more difficult to vali-
date one's speculations. The rapid de-
scent of the age-curves that are presented
herein might conceivably be due either
to: (1) the inevitable organic changes
that take place within the individual
(the reverse of maturation), (2) environ-
mental factors or (3) a combination of
organic and environmental factors. It is
also quite possible that no general rule
is applicable, t.e., some individuals may
exhibit an early decrement in the
quality of their performance because of
oi^anic changes; others may exhibit a
similar decrement because of environ-
mental factors or because of a particular
combination of organic and environ-
mental factors. If the early decrement
in brilliant performance is due to biolog-
ical factors, it may not be possible to do
anything to preclude or even to reduce in
amount this early decline. If, however,
environmental factors are respoxisible for
the early descent of the age-curves, then
it is quite conceivable that the causative
factors may some day be subject to a
measure of control

In a study such as this one it obvioudy
would be very difficult and time-consum-
ing to identify the causative (concomi-
tant) factors ; in such complex behavior
the relationship betWem cause and effect
is likely to be obscure. However, the
problem is not hopelessly difficult. Be-
cause the promotion of creative thinirifig
is so tremendoudy important to human
wdfare, the causative factors should be
ascertained if it is at all possible to do so.
Certainly, this problem is one that merits
serious study.

HEREDITY AND MENTAL TRAITS

By Dr. BARBARA S. BURKS

CAJtMEOIK INBTITtmON Or WABBIKOTON, COU> BFBINO HAB80B, I<OMO IBIiAND, N. T.

It seems to be easier for us to accept
as true something we can see, like a
meteorite or a club foot, than something
we can infer only from indirect data,
like the span of years elapsing since the
Stone Age, or differences in the educabil-
ity of human beings. Yet we should not
forget in this connection the story in
which our professor of logic used to de-
light, about the fisherman who came
home with a large black bass and a tall
fish story, “with the fish to prove it I”

When it comes to the problem to be
discussed in the present paper, there is
an important obstacle to clear thinking
which often hampers even the sophisti-
cates who can accept without resistance
such unseen truths as relativity mechan-
ics. Not only some observers and inter-
preters of science, but some research
workers themselves, have shown a liabil-
ity to emotional blocking on questions
which concern the mental endowment
and plasticity of man. Supposedly this
is because the results of studies in this
field impinge upon one’s life philosophy
and attitudes toward his fellows, and
thus one comes to care very deeply about
the outcomes.

The difficulties and controversies which
ensue are understandable, but they mean
that the person who would consider the
many sources of evidence objectively
must use more than ordinary caution.
If he is willing to consider only the evi-
dence — apart from the conflicting claims
that are frequently made — ^he will find
a surprising amount of consistency in
the facts now at his disposaL

We may start with a discussion of
intelligence, since this is the aspect of
mental life on which the most definitive
research has been conducted up to now.

Like- so many questions ha-ring lively
interest to-day, the inheritance of intel-
ligence was also considered by the
Greeks, and in Plato’s “Republic” one
may find modern ideas couched in classi-
cal allegorical form regarding the bio-
logical basis of talent:

Although your children will generally resemble
their parents, yet sometimes a golden parent
will produce a silver child, and a (diver parent
a golden child, and so on, each producing
any. . . . There is an oracle that declares that
the dty shall then perish if It is guarded by
iron or copper.

FauILT RliSEHBIiANOE StDDIBB

It was not until Francis Galton, -with
his “Hereditary Genius’^ published in
1869, introduced a method for appraising
kin resemblance through the number of
highly superior persons who clustered in
family lines, that “nature-nurture” in-
vestigations began to come from men of
science, although the great religions and
political states had been built around the
idea of men endowed to lead. Galton ’s
study, which showed that men of genius
were many times more likely to have
genuises among their close relatives than
were men at random, stimulated a legion
of followers who compiled studies on the
defective end {e.g., the Jukes and Elalli-
kaks) as well as the upper end of ability.
As quantitative trait-rating devices, and
more recently, standardised intelligenee
tests have come into use, correlation co-
efficients have replaced mere counts of
the incidence of high and low ability in
relatives of specified degree. The close
comparability of correlations between
parents and of^ring, or between
brothers and suiters, on mental tridts
and on physical traits such as stature,
caused the great biometrician Earl Pear-
462

HEREDITY AND MENTAL TRAITS

463

son to conclude that ^'mental characters
are inherited in precisely the same way
as the physical.” It has been often
enough pointed out since Pearson's hey-
day, however, that environment might
simulate heredity in producing family
resemblance and that additional data
are required to disentangle nature and
nurture when the biological quality of
families is correlated with the environ-
ment selected by and even created by the
families.

Studies op Twins

The study of twins appeared to many
investigators to be a way out of the
impasse encountered in ordinary family
resemblance studies. As is now widely
known by laymen and biologists alike,
there are two kinds of twins, one kind
derived from a single fertilized ovum,
and thus ” identical” in heredity, and
the other kii^d derived from two fertil-
ized ova, and thus like ordinary brothers
and sisters in degree of hereditary
” overlapping. ” If one-egg twins re-
semble one another distinctly more than
two-egg twins do on physical and mental
traits, this is taken as presumptive evi-
dence that heredity is at work. Many
studies of twins are now available, and
these have dealt not only with intelli-
gence, but with school attainment, phy-
sique, susceptibility to disease, interests,
attitudes and personality adjustments.
We do not wM to encroach upon the
field discussed by Rife in his paper on
twins in this series of articles, but will
take space to comment on a few points
relevant to our immediate problem.

In the first place one-egg twins really
have a somewhat more similar environ-
ment than do two-egg twins, even if
reared in their own homes by their own
parents. It is shown clearly, for ex-
ample, in a California study by Wilson,
that ”identicaP^ twins are treated more
similarly by their relatives and friends,
and are more similar in habits of eating,
Bleeping and recreation. While such

factors would presumably not afliect
traits like eye color and finger-print pat-
terns and other ph3rsical traits which,
because of their stability in the indi-
vidual, are actually used as criteria for
judging whether twins are of one-egg or
two-egg origin, they might account at
least in part for the greater similarity
of one-egg twins in mental development.

There is another approach to the study
of twins, on the other hand, which par-
takes more of the nature of experiment,
or at least utilizes the results of social
experiments already made. This is the
study of one-egg twins who have been
separated in infancy and brought up in
different environments. To the extent
that twin-pair resemblance shows up
even when environment has had no
chance to contribute to it, we can say
that heredity is demonstrated. But
when the separated twin-pairs show dif-
ferences, and particularly when these
correspond to identifiable differences in
childhood environment, we have a way
of appraising non-hereditary contribu-
tions. Newman and his colleagues at
the University of Chicago have studied
twenty separated pairs, and other inves-
tigators, including the writer, have
studied several additional pairs. The
intra-pair mental development of the
twins tended to be very similar when
differences in their educational oppor-
tunities were not too large. This carries
the implication that mental differences
found among people living in similar
communities and having fairly similar
schooling are largely native d^Bferences.
There were several pairs of twins, how-
ever, whose schooling was extremely dis-
similar, and these twins scored far apart
on intelligence tests. For example, one
young woman had had a college educa-
tion and had taught school, while her
twin had had only two years of grade
school education. The difference in their
IQ’s was 24 points in favor of the college
twin, and the differences in their social
abilities were fully as striking.

THE SCIENTinO MONTHLY

ST00IE8 or FoSIXB CmijOBBK

Probably studies of identical tirins
reared apart are the most effective of any
that have or could be undertaken for
unravelling the nature-nurture problem.
Such pairs have been located so rarely,
however, that other kinds of crucial data
have necessarily been sought. Children
placed in foster homes during infancy,
even when they are not twins, have pro-
vided some important evidence, since
they have the virtue for research pur-
poses of living in environments that are
usually quite different from what their
own parents could have provided. We
may briefly summarize the chief findings
of the main studies of this type :

Theis’s 1924 study was the first large
follow-up ever made. She found that
children placed in foster homes when
under five turned out to be more capable
adults (on the average) than those
placed when over five. It is possible,
however, that children who become de-
pendent at later ages come from less
promising family stock than those who
become dependent in infancy. (Later
foster child studies would support this
possibility.)

The most interesting finding was a
relationship close to zero between home
ratings on cultural and material status
with “capability” of the foster children
as adults, but accomp^anied by a distinct
positive relationship *^between “kind of
care” received and “capability,” from
which the inference followed: “Un-
doubtedly the child's adjustment to his
foster family governs to a significant
degree his adjustment to society, and
his adjustment to his foster family has
less to do with their standards of com-
fort and their place in the community
than with their human qualities and
their understanding.” Still further
comparisons showed a positive relation-
ship between “capability” and true fam-
ily background. As Folks points out in
the introduction, however: “We can not

disentangle the factor of inheritance
from that of early life with the children's
parents and the environment provided
by them.”

Burks (1928) compared the mental re-
semblance between 200 foster children
(placed when under a year of age) and
their foster parents with that between
100 “own” children and “own” parents
of similar socio-economic and intellec-
tual range. The resemblance in the
foster families was very slight as com-
pared with that in the “own” families.
“Own” children averaged 8 points
higher than foster children. From re-
sults on a composite rating of home
environment, it was concluded that mea-
surable factors of home environment
(under fairly homogeneous community
and educational conations) contributed
about 17 per cent, to the variance of
children's IQ's. Wright (1931) later re-
worked the data and concluded that the
total role of environmental (non-genetic)
influsnces in this group could be placed
with fair probabilily between 10 and 60
per cent.

Freeman, Holzinger and Mitchell
(1928) tested foster children and foster
parents, foster siblings («.«., foster
brothers and sisters), and true siblings
growing up in separate homes. The cor-
relation of foster parents and diildren
was somewhat higher than that found in
the previous study, but “selective place-
ment” was not ruled out by the method
used for acquiring eases. Foster sibling
groups showed IQ correlations of .84 to
.40, which may have been due partly to
environment and part!^ to selective
placement. True siblings of white race
in separate homes correlated .44 after
allowance was made for poor test stand-
ardization in certain age ranges. This
value, in turn, may have been due partly
to heredity and partly to selective place-
ment. Children who were old enough to
teat before placement gained about 7
points on the average after several yean
of residence in good foster homes.

HEREDITY AND MENTAL TRAITS

465

Leahy (1935) undertook an investiga'
tion for the purpose of resolving the
disparities between the two preceding
studies, and went to unusual pains to
obtain a group of foster subjects placed
when very young and unselectively.
Her correlation figures check closely
with those of Burks.

The results of the Leahy and Burks
studies were recently re-examined by
Burks (1938) in cooperation with Sewall
Wright in order to evaluate the contribu-
tions of nature and nurture to average
group differences in intelligence. This
problem is essentially different (though
not wholly unrelated) from that of ascer-
taining the factors contributing to the
distribution of individual scores. Al-
though hierarchial differences are ordi-
narily small as compared to individual
differences within “census groups’* of
occupations or other variables, they are
by no means negligible (e.g., IQ’s often
average as high as 115 or 120 for children
of professional parents, and appreciably
below 100 for children of unskilled labor-
ers).

Taking the parental occupational hier-
archy found in the IQ’s of foster and
control children of the two studies, it was
possible to estimate through Wright’s
path coefficient method that the differ-
ences in occupational group averages of
the “own’’ children could be attributed
about i to i to environment, f to | to
heredity.

Skodak (1939) recently published a
study on foster children of preschool
age (continuing studies undertaken
by Skeels at the University of Iowa).
Widely heralded conclusions arose from
average IQ’s of 116 reported for 2-year-
old foster children in this group, the
experimenters remaining seemingly un-
aware of the faulty standardisation .and
inflated norms of the Euhlmann-Binet
test in the early years. When the data
are reworked if Is found that year by
year (age li to6) tiie IQ’s average about

6 or 7 points above corrected norms — re-
sults which were also found in the pre-
vious foster child studies (for subjects
of comparable selection), and which can
probably be attributed to good environ-
ment, although they are not nearly so
sensational as the Iowa claims. As in
the Freeman study, a group of children
old enough to test before placement
gained (5.7 after one year and 9.8 points
after two years) following foster home
residence.

Much was made in the study of the
failure of “true family background” to
give a prediction of the IQ’s of the
youngest (two-year-old) children of the
group, but no emphasis was given to the
fact that foster home status likewise
failed to correlate with the IQ’s of the
children in the youngest ranges. Despite
the fact that IQ correlations increased
with age both for true parent and foster
parent variables, and by the age of six
gave a higher value with education of
true parents (with whom the children
had never lived) than with education of
foster parents, the author offered in her
main conclusions these non-aequiturs:
“Placing the child in a good foster home
at the youngest possible age makes for
development equal to own children in
similar homes”; “the relationship be-
tween true-family background and the
child’s mental development is approxi-
mately zero”; “the use of true-family
histories as a basis for the placement of
the child has little or no justification. ”

Lawrence’s 1931 study of children
separated from their homes in infancy
and tested after some years of institu-
tional life showed an IQ hierarchy fol-
lowing the occupational status of the true
father, although the differences were lees
marked (about 6 points from highest to
lottest occupational groups) than 'with
children reared in their own homes. It
is not known to what extent the iiutitu-
tional environment, and to what extent
atypical representation from the v^ous

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

occupational groups of children becom*
ing institutional wards, accounts for the
reduction in hierarchical differences.
To the extent that differences did re-
main, heredity was probably responsible.

Studies of Chanqbs Under Particular
Environmental Influences

In addition to the studies which have
attempted to separate the contributions
of nature and nurture to individual dif-
ferences, or to differences between
groups of children (or adults), there are
a number of studies which approach the
problem of environment through the ob-
servation of changes in mental status
under specified conditions.

Improvement in IQ (averaging 5 to 10
points) of foster children placed in good
foster homes from poor ‘‘own'* homes
was mentioned in several of the studies
just summarized. There are other
studies which consider the problem by
making age comparisons of children
growing up under deprived environmen-
tal conditions. One of the first of these
was Gordon’s investigation (1923) of
English canal boat children. With
almost a total lack of schooling, and with
little intellectual stimulation in their
houseboat homes, the IQ’s of these chil-
dren showed steady decrease from year
to year, so that the average of the twelve-
year-olds was nearly 30 points less than
that of the six-year-olds. In this study
the meagerness of tlte environment was
extreme ; other studies have not f oun,d as
large a disparity between the older and
younger subjects of deprived groups,
although it has not been unusual to find
decreases of 10 to 20 IQ points in a com-
parable age range among children living
in isolated mountain regions, in mill
towns of sub-standard cultural oppor-
tunities, etc.

Several studies have been undertaken,
particularly at the University of Iowa,
for appraising the contribution of nur-
sery school training, and of “progressive

school” training, to mental development.
It is clear that such studies, unless car-
ried out under rigorous experimental
control, offer loopholes for great am-
biguity, due to the fact that parents who
send their children to nursery schools
and to private or university-sponsored
progressive schools are not a random
selection of parents, nor are their chil-
dren a random cross section of children.
Although large claims have been made
for the effect of certain types of school-
ing upon the IQ, it is usually far from
certain that the effects are really those of
education. Even when groups of young
children are “matched” for IQ at the
beginning of their nursery school
careers, and are later (at college age)
found to have disparities that correspond
to differences in their educational ex-
periences, the evidence is not clear-cut
because IQ’s obtained during the pre-
school years do not give a dependable
prediction of developmental potentiality.
Thus the later disparities may be due
wholly or in part to “selection” of chil-
dren with higher or lower potentialities.
In general it can be said that the better
the experimental control in such investi-
gations, the less is the apparent effect of
educational variables.

Baoial Differences

Though differences in the average men-
tal test scores of persons of various
natio-racial origins are quite regularly
found, these are accompanied by so many
differences in environmental training
and opportunities, and the overlapping
among the groups is so large, that an-
thropologists have quite rightly pointed
out the hazards of drawing conclusions
regarding innate racial differences
merely from mental test surveys. In
the United States certain so-called “cen-
sus groups,” in particular the Negroes
and some South European groups, espe-
cially Italians, have showed a handicap-
ping in mental tests as . compared with

HEREDITY AND MENTAL TRAITS

467

North European and Jewish groups.
We have very little data, however, by
which to interpret the sources of the
differences, although there are certain
facts that are not incompatible with an
explanation on partly biological grounds.
We have, for example, a series of studies
on the distribution of a variety of simple
genetic traits, not associated with racial
differentiae per se, in natio-ethnie
groups occupying different geographical
regions. In all such studies (which
have dealt with the blood groups, with
^Haste-blindness” for certain chemicals,
with the presence or absence of hair over
the middle segment of the fingers, etc.)
it has been demonstrated that the inci-
dence rate of traits whose effects are
little modified by environment does tend
to vary in groups characterized by dif-
ferent racial ancestry. If this is so with
genes for physique, then why not with
genes for intellect as well?

Such an argument is of course sugges-
tive and not at all conclusive. Of crucial
evidence for innate racial differences in
intellect we have virtually none. On the
contrary, we have a series of studies by
Elineberg and bis associates who took
as subjects ten-year-old Negro children
who had lived for varying periods of
time in New York City. Recent mi-
grants from the South averaged lowest,
and those who were born in New York
or had lived there over five years, aver-
aged highest. For example, in one of
the studies the former averaged 81 IQ
and the latter, 87 IQ. The difference
is referred to the better school advan-
tages available to Negroes in the North,
although even so, an unexplained dis-
parity remains between the Negroes and
Whites. Whether that is due mainly to
nature or to nurture is a speculative
question that can not be answered by
data now available.

NoN-IyTiZ4LB(m7AL Mental Traits

We have seen considerable evidence

that heredity lays down the limits within
which intelligence can develop, but that
environmental effects of 5 to 10 IQ
points occur under certain conditions,
and that effects of 20 points or even more
occur under extreme conditions.

Can any similar conclusions be drawn
for traits or behavior representing the
emotional and volitional aspects of men-
tal lifeT For interests, for traits of
leadership, for anti-social tendencies, for
self-control or for proneness to mental
breakdown?

Research in these domains seems to
have advanced little beyond the place
that research on intelligence had reached
two decades ago. There are studies of
marked personality deviations in kin-
ships, including twins. Such studies
show in leadership, nomadism, criminal-
ity, psychosis, epilepsy, etc., much the
same tendency for clustering in family
lines that is found for feeble-mindedness
and high ability, and also liigher resem-
blance among one-egg twins than among
two-egg twins. But the clinching evi-
dence from foster children and from
twins reared apart is available so far in
only meager quantity. This is partly be-
cause extreme deviations like criminality
and psychosis happen too rarely to have
occurred with much frequency in the
groups of foster children and separated
twins that have been studied up to now.
Though it might seem that less extreme
characteristics of personality could be
studied with profit, we have few measur-
ing instruments at all comparable in
validity with intelligence tests in the
field of personality, and consequently
most of the personality data on foster
children and twins reared apart — ^aside
from diagnoses of actual pathology, and
some scores on rather unreliable tests,
are stated in unsystematized terms that
are dijfficult to evaluate. Nevertheless,
some of the data, especially on the sepa-
rated twins, have extreme interest.

468

THE SOIENTiFI€ MONTHLY

Bosanoif lias reported on a pair of
twin girls separated in infancy and un-
aware of one another’s existence who
both developed epilepsy and promiscuous
sex behavior. They were recognised as
identical twins in ^e state institution to
which they were both committed through
their nearly identical appearance and
behavior.

Burks has studied a pair of twin girls
separated nemrly at birth who developed
very similar bebAvior problems in child-
hood, e,g,, nail-biting, enuresis, hyper-
irritability. One twin, however, re-
ceived a more indulgent upbringing, and
was ’’favored child” above a foster sib-
ling reared in the same home, while the
other twin was reared under more exact-
ing and less affectionate home conditions.
The more favored twin has been happier
and more successful in school, social and
occupational adjustments.

The Newman, Freeman and Holzinger
studies of twins reared apart, as well as
containing considerable data on parallel
traits of personality, include some strik-

ing observationa on penonality differ-
ences that were related to diffeienoes in
childhood expwieneee. There wai^ far
example, the boys of a pair reared in the
city and country respectivdyi the eity
twin impressing the research staff as
being ’’more dignified, more reserved,
more self-contained, more unafraid,
more, etperienoed, and less friendly.”
In another pair of boys, the patterns of
their foster families, in one case respect
and in the other case disrespect for
the law, were taken over in a way that
markedly affected the trends of their
lives.

It is clear that one of the most urgent
needs in the field is for more studies on
separated twins and foster children mak-
ing use of the best methods now available
for appraising hereditary background
and environment as well as personality
development. Such studies promise high
rewards not only for science, but for
man himself in his efforts to come to
terms with the requirements of his social
milieu.

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

MYSTERIES OF THE MIND^

One of the very provocative writers
on psychoanalysis is the distinguished
Swiss physician, Carl G. Jung, the au-
thor of the present volume. A charm-
ing person, a profound scholar of wide
erudition and a true philosopher, he has
exerted a great influence on the thinking
of many persons.

Starting as a fellow worker with
Freud, he broke with him and set up
what may be referred to as a schismatic
school of thought, characterized espe-
cially by its stress upon what Jung terms
the ** collective unconscious.” To Jung
there are depths of the unconscious
which lie deeper than early and ^‘for-
gotten” experiences, which represent, so
to speak, the inheritance from untold
generations and which are common to all
within a given culture. “The collective
unconscious, so far as we know% is self-
identical in all Western men and thus
constitutes a psychic foundation, super-
personal in its nature, that is present in
every one of us. ”

The present volume deals, in rather
philosoplkical style, with individuation
and the development of the personality.
In this process “let consciousness defend
its reason and its self-protective ways,
and let the chaptic life of the uncon-
scious be given a fair chance to have its
owrl way, as much of it as we can stand. * ’

In developing his theme, Jung dis-
cusses “Archetypes of the Collective
Unconscious,” “Dream Symbols of the
Process of Individuation” (a discussion
of a series of dreams of one. patient con-
cerning whose history or surroundings
no data are given!) and “The Idea of
Hedemptkm in Alchemy.” Thei^ is a
wealth of references to Sanskrit art,
Coptic and inedieval monastic writers,

* The rte PermuiHty* (Ssrl G#

Jmgf VD. TmiilaM by Stanley M. DeU.
eia pp. |a.bO« lose. Pamur and Bin^rt.

the Gjiostic philosophers, and so on, all
of which display the erudition of the
wTiter and furnish examples of the re-
currence of symbols, in varying times
and circumstances.

Chapter 6, “The Development of Per-
sonality,” becomes a bit more concrete.
Jung here makes a plea for the develop-
ment of adult personalities, pointing out
tliat child-rearing can not best be car-
ried out if the jiersonalities of the adult
educators are warped! “Our approach
to education suffers from a one-sided em-
phasis upon the child who is to be
brought up, and from an equally one-
sided lack of emphasis upon the deficient
upbringing of the adult educator.

A personality he defines as '*a defi-
nitely shaped, psychic abundance, cap-
able of resistance, and endowed with en-
ergy.” This, he warns us, is an adult
ideal, not properly to be foisted upon
children. Personality, that is, of the
adult, is not manifested ‘‘without defi-
niteness, fullness and maturity” (p.
285) — such aims do not fit the child.
Some parents, in tryii^ to ‘‘do their
best” for their children, succeed only in
overdoing what has been most neglected
in themselves !

Later in the same chapter Jung de-
votes some space to another kind of
“personality,” that is, tiie “historical
personality,” or what Carlyle would re-
fer to as the “hero.” Some few per-
sons, Jung says, learn to liberate them-
selves from convention, “the col-
lective fears, convictions, laws and metll-
ods” of the mass of mankind (p. 290 )!.
This ability he attributes to a “vocation :
an ii^rational factor tiiat fatefully forces
a man to emancipate himself from the
herd and its trodden paths” (p. 291 ).

The volume is ui interesting produc-
tion of a great thinker, a thinker with a
well-stored but urith an imsis-
tible urge to qwculgte. As one foires

460

470

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

reading it, he is likely to agree with Jung
that, “what is called personality is a
great and mysterious question. All that
can be said about it is curiously unsatis-
factory and inadequate, and there is
always the threatening danger that the
discussion will lose itself in mere talk
that is as redundant as it is hollow.”

WiNFEED OvERHOLSER, M.D.

EARLY AMERICANS^

It has been said that, while urban civ-
ilized man may or may not have horse
sense, primitive preliterate man must
have it. Penobscot Man is a record, by
the foremost Hying field worker among
our northeastern American Indians, of
the manner in which the Penobscot of
ttie Maine woods used their wits to make
their living and to survive and thrive as
a group. Oddly enough, with all our
three or four centuries of white contact
with the northeastern Indians, this is
our first modern technical monograph on
any one group of these forest hunters.
It covers all phases of culture — from
food to art to society and the life cycle —
except religion and folklore.

The data were gathered by Speck
chiefiy in 1907-14, living and camping
with the older men of the tribe. Later
visits in 1914-1918 and 1936 helped to
fill out the record.

The attempt is not to reconstruct the
prehistoric past of the Penobscot, but to
present. a picture of them as they were
in the historic era when native ways
and institutions were midway in trau»i-
tion to European forms under French
and, later, English infiuence. A 12-page
postscript gives an impressionistic but
illuminating sketch of life to-day among
the Peniobscot. The old era is gone, but
not all; beneath the Europeanized sur-
face still lurks no little of the pride of
tongue and ancestry, the flair for the

‘^Penohaeoi Man: The Life Uietory of a
Foreet Tribe in Maine* Frank G, fipeek. Illus-
tmtod, XX + 825 pp. $4.00, 1940. University
of Poniifiylvania Prew.

hunt, the lure of the rippling waterways,
the longing for the deep forest. It is a
very human people whom Speck reveals
to us, with their loves and their ambi-
tions and their quiet — ^and often broad —
humor. One thumb-nail sketch, that of
old Louis Nicholas, is unforgettable, of
surpassing pathos, a symbol of the death
of a* whole culture.

All in all, Penobscot Man is a notable
addition to the long list of splendid
papers and monographs Speck has given
us. It is thoroughly scientific and thor-
oughly readable. It is crammed with
new significant data. The reviewer has
no doubt it will take its place among the
permanent classics of American Indian
ethnology.

John M. Cooper

TOTAL WAR UNDER THE
MICROSCOPE^

The most recent addition to the ex-
cellent series of Experimental Biology
Monographs of the Macmillan Company
is a scholarly and original contribution
by Valy Menkin on the mechanisms of
inflammation. Both the author and the
editors of these monographs are deserv-
ing of hearty congratulations. The
printing and illustrations are worthy
of the work. Dr. Menkin briefly and
critically reviews earlier theories of the
mechanisms and dynamics of inflamma-
tion before amplif^dng his own signifi-
cant factual and theoretical contribu-
tions of the last few years. There is a
rare lack of bias in his evaluations of
work not in complete accord with his
own observations.

The book is highly recommended to
those versed in the science of medicine
and the related disciplines, bat it is
ra^er too technical for the average lay
reader.

The author develops an invitingly

1 Dffumiet of l»fkmmation. An Inquiry into
the Meehtmimt of InfeeUtm Prooeeee*. Vaiy
Menkin. lUuetrated. xii f 244 pp. 24.S0. The
Macmillan Company

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

471

logical concept of the dynamics of in-
flammation in which the role of chemi-
cal mediators, such as leukotaxine, is
stressed. This theory of pathogenesis of
the progressive changes arising in the
development of inflammation is, of
course, not the final word, but it repre-
sents an extremely feasible working
hypothesis and should serve to further
correlate the facts and ideas concerning
eelJular reaction to injury. To the suf-
fering individual whose sore finger is the
battleground of invading microorgan-
isms» inflammation will mean redness,
swelling, heat, pain and tenderness. Dr.
Menkin has sought to reveal the intricate
machinery, chemical and organic, in-
volved in tissue defense against the in-
vaders: total war under the microscope.

Edward J. Stieolitz

MODERN SCIENCE FOR THE
AMATEURS

A. Frederick Collins is called by his
publishers ‘‘the master hobbyist’’ be-
cause he has written hundreds of articles
and scores of popular books, most of
them addressed to amateurs and in-
tended to make attractive the actual
work of construction and operation in
such fields as photography, gardening,
aviation, magic, microscopy, wireless,
motors and stamp collecting. He has
done a tremendous service in this en-
couragement of the amateur and in this
emphasis on the experimental point of
view. For not only does science begin
with «uch direct experience, but prob-
ably any valid culture for the mass pub-
lic must be based on the use of the hands,
on things to do. All else follows.

Beifinee on A. F, Oolluia, lUus-

trated. xi + S14 pp. $3.00« Novcwaber, 1940.
D, App1etoii*Oentiiiry Oompany.

It is therefore interesting to have from
him now this book which still maintains
primary interest in construction and
operation but describes recent advances
in industry based on progress in scienee,
Tlu^se include the Atlantic super-clip-
pers, synthetic materials, artificial light-
ning, the sterilamp, fluorescent lighting,
tlie electronic piano, color photography,
radio facsimile, synthetic speech and
television. All these have had ample
iniblicity and are, of course, adequately
described in the technical journals, but
Mr. Collins’s excellent diagrams and
clear exposition are the first solid infor-
mation to amateurs on how they work.

Mr. Collins is at his best in electricity,
hence in describing television and fac-
simile. He is not so specific in the chem-
ical chapters such as synthetic materials
and photography, for he assumes less
knowledge on the part of his readers.
It is, of course, not so easy to be an
operating amateur in these chemical
matters. Here too he encounters the
difficulty of using trade names for the
various products and can not be fair to
all manufacturers.

Any reviewer must also plead for bet-
ter titling. The topics discussed do not
begin to make a full parade of recent
science. Neither can the use of the ultra-
violet lamp in sanitation justify the
chapter title, “Health on Parade/’ The
fact that the book is otherwise authori-
tative and precise makes it the more re-
grettable that the title and chapter head-
are vague and grandiose.

This is the kind of book that the ama-
teur needs as an outgrowth of his ow|i
more restricted handiwork. It is esp^
cially a book that can be recommended
for school librarieSk

Obrald Wbnot

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

FREDERICK GRANT BANTING, DISCOVERER OF INSULIN

On February 21st there perished in
the wilds of Eastern Newfoundland, as
the result of injuries sustained in the
crash of a plane England bound, Major
Sir Frederick Grant Banting. Thus
there came to a tragic end the romantic
life of a lovable character and a truly
great man. 1 was perhaps the last of his
close friends to see him alive, as we had
spent several happy hours together just
])rior to his departure on his imi)ortant
war-time mission.

Banting was born in Alliston, On-
tario, Canada, November 14, 1891, the
son of William Thompson Banting and
Margaret (Grant) Banting. He was
educated at the Alliston public and high
schools and at tlie University of Toronto.
He joined the Canadian Army Medical
Corps as a i)rivate in 1915, and served
in Canada, England and France from
1915 to 1919. He was wounded at Cam-
brai in 1918 and was awarded the Mili-
tary Cross. After the war he was .resi-
dent surgeon in the Sick Children's Hos-
pital of Tpronto for one year. He prac-
ticed medicine in London, Ontario, and
held a part-time assistantship in the De-
partment of Physiology in the Uni-
versity of Western Ontario until May,
1921. On May 16 of that year he be-
gan work on the problem of the in-
ternal secretion of the pancreas in the
Departlnent of Physiology of the Univer-
sity of Toronto, under the direction of
Professor J. J. K. Macleod. Thereafter,
he was lecturer in pharmacology there
from 1921 to 1922, senior demonstrator
in medicine from 1922 to 1923, and pro-
fessor of medical research from 1923
until his death. He was honorary con-
sulting physician to the Toronto General
Hospital, the Hospital for Sick Children
and the Toronto Western Hospital.

He received a degree of doctor of laws

from Queen’s University in 1923, and
doctorates of science from the Univer-
sity of Toronto in 1923, from Yale Uni-
versity in 1924, McGill University in
1939 and, posthumously, from the Uni-
versity of Montreal last March. He was
elected a fellow of the Royal Society in
1935.

In June, 1934, Banting was raised to
knighthood as a Knight Commander of
the Civil Division of the Order of the
British Empire. In 1923 he was
awarded the Nobel Prize, and in the
same year the Parliament of Canada
voted him a life annuity.

Banting was a most unselfish individ-
ual. He was always mindful of helping
others and it was almost a religion with
him to encourage, stimulate and assist
young research workers. He did not
believe that young students should
lightly take up research work, but only
when they had an impelling urge to do
so. Banting’s philosophy in regard to
this was perhaps never expressed better
by him than in the closing paragraphs
of his Cameron Prize Lecture to the stu-
dents of Edinburgh University in 1928.

The questian may arise in the mind of some'
one present — ^What may I dof Do not enter
upon research unless you can not help it. Ask
yourself the *<why’^ of every statement that is
made and think out your own answer. If
through your thoughtful work yon got a worth-
while idoa, it wiU get you. The force of the
conviction will compel you to forsake all and
seek the relief of your mind in research work.
You can prepare yourself for work. The pidnt-
lags of the great masters, the compositions of
great musicians, the sermons of great preachers,
the policies of great statesmen, and the cam-
paigns Of great generals, do not spring full
bloom from barren rock. Your txainl^ here is
but a preliminary step in preparation for your
life work. Mackenzie practiced thirty years
before he wTote his book on the heart. Trafning
is required. As Osier says, '4ive in a day-tight
compartment doing each day’s work well.^’ If

473

474

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHT.Y

you are a true student you will bo more dis*
satisfied with yourself when you graduate than
you are now. It is not within the power of the
properly constructed human mind to be satis*
fied. Progress would cease if this were the case.
The greatest joy in life is to accomplish. It is
the getting, not the having. It is the giving,
not the keei)ing.

I am a firm believer in the theory that you
can do or be anything that you wish in this
world, within reason, if you are prepared to
make the sacrifices, think and work hard enough
and long enough.

Banting and the writer first met in the
early si>ring of 1921 in the ofBce of Pro-
fessor J. J. R. Maeleod in the Depart-
ment of Phy.siology of the University of
Toronto, under wfiom we had both come
to work. That day there began a close
association between us, and although
this was for a time strained by certain
misunderstandings, it grew closer with
the passing years. I recall (juite vividly
how impressed I was with Banting and
his problem, wliich was nothing less than
a frontal attmtk on the pancreas to ob-
tain its elusive internal secretion. My
own problem, the effect of pH upon the
blood sugar, seemed insignificant by
comparison, but 1 had come to work with
a man, whereas Banting had a problem
which even at that time superseded such
things as personalities and graduate
training. I feel that I was very fortu-
nate to have been a worker in Maeleod ’s
laboratory at the time that Banting
started his first investigations and to
have known of the progress of this vrork
at first hand. He was. most anxious thlit
I should become a co-worker with' him.
I assured him that I would be delighted
to do this, but that I would have to wait
until my revered chief, Professor Mac-
leod, said the word. Some weeks later,
at a time when Banting’s early experi-
ments, in which he ha<l been assisted by
C. H. Best (now Professor Best), had in
my opinion established completely the
existence of insulin, Dr. Maeleod asked
me to join in the work. The part which
I was able to contribute subsequently to

the work of the team was only that
which any well- trained biochemist could
be expected to contribute, and was in-
deed very trivial by comparison with
Banting’s contribution.

During the past few years, in connec-
tion with the work of the National Re-
search Council of Canada, it has been
again my privilege, together with others,
to be associated with Banting. The high
regard in whi<!h he was held by his col-
leagues ill the Research Council, not only
on aifcount of his own personality, but
for his genius in organization, insight
and leadership, can not be expressed
better than in the words of the president
of the council. Lieutenant -General Me-
Naughton, now^ heading the Canadian
Corps overseas. In a recent tribute to
Banting, General McNaughton said in
part:

In all our work he gave hisi l>eat, painstaking
help in the administration of the Council mani-
fold activities, time freely devoted to other sci-
ences as well as medicine, vision and insight and
leadership, loyal cooperation and unfailing help
and generous encouragement to those who la-
boured with him in the field of scientific research,
modesty almost to a fault. He will be very
greatly missed from his place at our Council
table* When the dark shadow of war overtook
Canada and The Empire lie came overseas with
the desire for service again with the forces in
the field but at my personal request he gave this
up unselfishly to undertake the organisation of
research of far reaching importanco to us and
which he alone could do. It is in the prosecution
of this work that he has given his life.

It ifi too early for an adequate assess-
ment of Banting’s work to be made, but
it is certain that at least three of his
major accomplishments will long be re-
membered. These are — ^the discovery of
insulin, the development of the Depart-
ment of Medical Research of the Univer-
sity of Toronto, whiqh has done and will
continue to do notable work of an inves-
tigational character, and the initiation,
the organization and the carrying-out of
research work relating to the war effort.

J, B. COLLIP

McOill Univcrsitt

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

475

THE NATIONAL GALLERY OF ART^

On March 17, PrcKident Roosevelt
dedicated the new National Gallery of
Art at Washinprton. On the following
morning the Gallery, with the Mellon
and Kress Collections on view, was
opened to the public. The building,
under construction for almost four years
and recently completed at a cost of
fifteen million dollars, was made possible
by the gift of the late Andrew W.
Mellon. The dedication, on March 17,

1 The Bmithsonian Institution is legally the
owner of the National (lallery of Art, including
its building and its peririanent eollections. Title
has already passed to it eovoring the building,
and the Mellon «*ind Kress eol lections. The chan-

cellor of the Board of Regonts of the Smith-
sonian Institution and the secretary of the in-
stitution are ex-offtcio members of the board of
nine trustees of the National Gallery. The
Smithsonian Institution already owned the Freer
Art Gallery, a repository for Oriental Art, and
administers the National Colleetion of Fine Arts
and the National Portrait Gallery. Dr. C. G.
Abbot, secretary of the Smithsonian Institution,
recently expressed the hope that some day a
worthy and commodious gallery may In* eleetted
for the preservation of the National Collection
of Fine Arts, the National Portrait Gallery and
the exhibition of contemporary art. Such a gal-
lery will serve not only to receive types of art
not within the scope of the National Gallery, but
also, us time goes on, to be to some extent its
feeder, as contemporary art stands the test of
time and itself becomes classic.

‘‘THE ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS, »» BY GIORGIONE

THlfil PAIKTIKG, AliG# XKOWK AG THS ALLRKOALB ADORATION, IB CONBIDERKD TO BE AUOKG TRE
MOST BEAUTIFUL EXAMPLES OF THE ART OF LANDSCAPE DURING THE ITALIAN RBNAIBBANOE. PART OF
THE KRS80 COLLECTION, IT 18 REPRESENTATIVE OF THE VENETIAN SOBOOL*

476

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

consummated the plan formulated by
Mr. Mellon during the years he spent in
Washington as secretary of the treasury,
and later announced in a letter to Presi-
dent Roosevelt in December, 1986. In
this letter, Mr. Mellon offered to build
and to give to the nation an art gallery.
He stipulated that the then proposed edi-
fice should not bear his name but should
be designated as the National Gallery''
of Art. ’ ' His gift included his collection
of paintings and sculpture, which he
hoped would become the nucleus^’ of a
great national collection. The gift was
accepted by the Act of Congress of March
24, 1937, and a site for the building ex-
tending along Constitution Avenue and
the Mail from Fourth to Seventh Streets
was provided.

Funds for the maintenance of the gal-
lery, in line with the general practice for
the maintenance of other federal mu-
seums and art galleries, are to be pro-
vided by annual Congressional appro-
priations.

The architect for the National Gallery
of Art was the late John Russell Pope,
who died a few weeks after the ground-
breaking ceremonies in June, 1937.
Pope's associates, Otto B. Eggers and
Daniel Paul Higgins, of the firm of
Eggers and Higgins of New York City,
carried the architectural phase of the
construction to its completion.

Conceived as a repository for great
masterpieces of art, the gallery is con-
sidered by critics to be an outstanding
achievement in the field of architectural
art..

The pattern of the building consists of
two square wings extending from a cen-
tral rotunda, surrounded by a low dome.
Ionic columns supporting broad pedi-
ments on the longitudinal faces of the
structure, suggest classic Greek influence
in architectural design. In general out-
line the gallery is in harmony with other
federal structures along Washington's
Constitution Avenue.

In dimensions, the building is 785 feet

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

477

THE MAtN BNTBANCE TO THE NATIONAL OALLBBY OP ABT

l-BB IONIC COLUMNS SCOOSBT CLASSIC (HlIEK INTLITENCK IN AHCMmSCTUKAL OBStoN. AMONG THB
BUILDINGS VlStBLE l<BOM THE STEPS ARE THE SMITH80NUN INSTITUTION, THB U. B. NATIONAL

MUSEUM, THE ARMY MEDICAL MUSEUM AND THE U. B. CAPITOL.

478

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

long: and 305 feet M*ide. It was erected
on a foundation of 6,700 concrete piles.
It is constructed principally of hard-
surface, rose-white Tennessee marble.
Completion of the structure required 800
carloads of this material and represents
one of the world’s most extensive appli-
cations of marble in a single builduif^.
The marble in the walls is grraduated in
color, from strong: tones in the low^r
courses to blend imperceptibly into
nearly pure white at the cornice.

The main entrance to the building is
through two twelve-ton bronze doors
facing Washington’s famous Mall. The
Mall entrance leads directly to the ro-
tunda, one of the outstanding architec-
tural features of the gallery. The ro-
tunda is one hundred feet in diameter
and of e(|ual height. The dome, with its

glass-covered oculus, is supported by 24
Ionic columns, carved in Vermont from
dark-green Italian marble, quarried in
Europe. In the center of the rotunda is
a gray marble fountain surmounted by
Giovanni Bologna’s famous bronze fig-
ure of Mercury, from the Mellon Collec-
tion, made probably between 1575-1600.

Extending east and west from the ro-
tunda are two large halls or galleries,
almost 75 feet wide and more than 100
feet long, which will contain large pieces
of sculpture. Already in place in the
west liall are two life-size bronze statues
of Bacchus and Veiuis Anadyomene,
made about 1525 at Florence by Sanso-
vino. They were once part of Napoleon’s
National Collection in Paris, acquired by
him from northern Italy as “war booty”
following his successful campaign against

THE BOTUNDA OF THE NATIONAL OALLEBY OF ApT

SHOWING. A SPEClALitY OZBIGKXD roUNTAIN SUZMOUNmSD BY A BBONZX STATUS OF ItSBOUSY BY
GIOVANNI BOLOGNA. THIS STATUS IB ONE OF THl TUBES OASTS OENEEALLY OONSIDEtlEO TO BE THE
ORIGINALS OF THIS FAMOUS REFSESENTATION OF THE UESBENOEE OF THE GOBS.

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

479

Austria. During: an uprising in Paris
in May, 1871, with the Coniiniine in
power, the jrreat Palais Royal was fired
by a mob, and the statue of Venus was
thrown from a window just in time to
prevent its destruction. The scars of
this adventun* are still visible.

Each of the sculpture halls terminate
in a larjre and beautifully patterend pir-
deu court. Seats for the convenience of
gallery visitors have been set about the
courts in the midst of growing flowers
and evergreen^. In the center of each
court stands one of two well-known foun-
tains which graced the gardens of the
palace of Versailles over 250 years ago.

These fountain groups were mcxleled
in lead on the order of Louis XIV be-
tween 1670-1675. The fountains are
similar in size and gCJieral effect and
were part of the decorations for the cele-
brated ‘^Theatre d’Eair’ at Versailles.
Both are group sculptures; one, by
Pierre Legros, represents two winged
cherubs playing with a lyre, and the
other, by Jean-Baptiste Tubi, dej)icts
two similar figures at play with an irate
swan.

The two hundred thousand and more
square feet of exhibition area which ra-
diates from the main corridors and gar-
den courts provide space for almost one
hundred separate galleries.

The galleries are lighted by natural
daylight, diffused through specially
treated glass lay-lights. At night or on
dark days the paintings and sculpture
are illuminated by specially designed
floodlights placed above the diffusing
glass in the ceilings of the galleries.

“MADONNA AND CHILD,

ItY R0S8F.LLIN0, MARBLE RELIEF OF THE FLOR*
ENTINE SCHOOL WAS EXECUTED BETWEEN 1475

AND 1480 ,

The Mellon Collection covers the prin-
cipal European schools from about the
year 1200 to the early nineteenth century
and includes a number of early American
masterpieces. The Kress Collection ex-
hibits Italian painting and sculpture and
illustrates the complete development of
the Italian sithools from the early thir-
te«nth century in Florence, Siena and
Rome to the last creative moment in
Veni«!e at the end of the eighteenth cen-
tury.

B. W.

THE QBOLOOY ALCOVE OF THE SMITHSONIAN’S NEW “INDEX

EXHIBIT”

GeoijOot is the study of the earth. Be*
sides the air (atmosphere) and the oceans
(hydrosphere), iJ^e earth is thought
to consist of a layet* of light rock 35 miles
thick, a layer of heavy rook 1,000 miles
thick, a aone of iron and stone 1,000 miles
thick and a central iron core nearly 2,000

miles in diameter. The Smithsonian In-
stitution confines its attention, in the

•1 "

field of geology, largely to the scientific
problems of the upper layer of 35 miles.
This is perhaps due to its ownership of
extensive collections of fossils, minerals,
rocks and ores, from this restricted thin

480

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

skin of our earth. Since, too, it possesses
one of the world’s few large meteorite
collections, it devotes much attention to
these rocks from outer space. The geo-
logical display of the new Index” ex-
hibit is designed to illustrate, in a limited
way, the research interests of the Smith-
sonian.

The central motif of the geological ex-
hibit is a large, slowly rotating globe,
with the terrestrial continents, deep buff
in color, in relief upon a deep blue sea,
signifying in a simple manner that the
science of geology concerns itself with
the features, both external and internal,

zoic, an armored dinosaur against palms
and cycads; and for the Paleozoic, the
struggle for existence between trilobites
and cephalopods in an ancient sea. One
panel shows, as an examjde, the activi-
ties of the vertebrate paleontologists,
work both in the field and in the labora-
tory pn an extinct lizard from the Cre-
taceous epoch, 100,000,000 years ago, one
of the most ancient lizards found in
North America. This includes a block
of rock witli two articulated skeletons
worked out in relief, and a restoration of
the lizard based upon the scientific study
of these and other skeletons found asso-

A POBTION OF THE GEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE SMITHSONIAN'S EXHIBIT

A REVOLVIKO TERRESTBUL GLOBE TYPIFIES THE SCIENCE OP GEOLOGY.

of our own planet. Two brief labels ex-
plain the constitution of the earth and
the Smithsonian’s scope of interest. Ou
one side of this central motif are selected
exhibits of the Smithsonian’s work in
paleontology, ”the study of fossil ani-
mals and plants,” and on the other,, Some
phases of its interest in mineralogy, ”the
study of minerals.”

Dow’n the center of the paleontology
se(»tiou is a column of three small dio-
ramas, showing characteristic scenes
from three ancient geological eras: for
the Cenozoic, a three-toed horse and a
primitive carnivore against a back-
ground of flowering trees ; for the Meso-

elated with them. The other panel illus-
trates some researches in Permian inver-
tebrate paleontology, with blocks of fos-
sil-bearing limestone, both as found in
the field and as partially prepared in the
laboratory; and the remains of fossil
animals, bryozoans, brachiopods, mollus-
cans and other forms, with their delicate
features preserved in silica for 200,000,
000 years. Studies on these forms in-
crease our knowledge of the history of
life during this remote period.

On the other side, relating to mineral-
ogy in its broadest sense, is a long panel
showing by an illuminated scene a me-
teorite in flight, and characteristic indi-

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

481

THE STUDY OF A FOSSIL LIZABD

PBOniOBAPHB SBOW A SUITRSOmAK EXPEDITION IN THE PIEU) AND LATEE WORK IN THE LABORA-
TORY. BELOW THESE ABE A PREPARED SKELETON AND A RESTORATION OP THE UEARD.

482

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

SOME MINEilALS FROM THE PRINCE OP WALES ISLAND, ALASKA

AGAINST A PAINTED BACKGROUND OF TIIK LOCALITY ARE ARRANGED SOME OF THE MATERIALS COL-
LECTED DURING A SMITHSONIAN EXPEDITION.

vidu«lK of the three main types of these erals in well-crystallized {groups, that are
strange visitors from outer space : the commonly found in these ores. This ex-
stony, stony-iron and iron meteorites, hibit illustrates the economic mineralogy
Below is a panel of crystallized minerals of the rich mineral regions of Mexico, in
from Prince of Wales Island, Alaska; which the Smithsonian has long been in-
epidote, garnet and others against a terested. Finally, a small recessed case
painted background of the locality and a shows a brilliant cut gem of topaz gleam-
small “telescoi>e” in which one can view ing in a dimly lighted recess and a topaz
the work of collecting these minerals on crystal of the same material, both from
the distant mountain slope. The sped- the gem mines of Brazil,
mens were selected, ndt only to show the Each year the Smithsonian conducts
character of material with which the geological explorations and resekrches in
mineralogist works, but the beauty of the various parts of the world. These ex-
mineral kingdom as well. A second case hibits illustrate some of them,
shows typical silver-lead and silver-gold W. F. Fobhao

ores from Mexico and some of the min- Smithsonian iNsnTnnoN

PALEONTOLOGICAL EXPEDITION INTO THE SOUTH DAKOTA

BADLANDS

A COLLECTION of more than 175 fossil study. Preliminary investigations in the
specimens made last summer in the South workrooms of the Museum of the School
Dakota Badlands by a joint paleontology of Mines indicate that many of the fossils
ical expedition of the National Geo- are rare and that several represent spe-
graphie Society and the South Dakota cies and genera hew to science. It is
State School of Mines is undergoing believed probable that the two most strike

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

483

A FERTILE HUNT1N(3 GROUND

IN SUCH KRODfiO AREAS OP THE WHITE RIVER BADLANDS, SOUTH DAKOTA, THE EXPEDITION POUND
MORE THAN 175 HPEC’IMENH OP FOSSIL BONKS OP MAMMALS, BIRDS AND REPTII.KS. THE (’APSTONES

ARE OF CHANNEL SANDSTONE OVERLYING SHALES.

rj vi.,

* iV/ ^

•fc;,. ..

CAMP OP THE PALBONTOLOOM3AL EXPEDITION IN THE WHITE BIVBB BADIANDS

484

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ing: specimens found will fall into the
latter group : a rhinoceros skull 28 inches
long, and the skull of a giant pig which
measured, when alive, fully eight feet
from snout to tail.

Among other specimens found by the
expedition were fossil bones of tapirs,
graceful little three4oed horses (the re-
mote ancestors of present-day horses),
protoceros (remotely related to deer and
antelope), the little-known ancodus and
a number of small rodents. Barest of the
specimens are bones of birds — only a few
have previously been found in the Bad-
lands. The prize find, which may belong
in this group or which may be of rep-
tilian origin, was a fossil egg still firmly
held in its matrix of rock. A few plant
fossils were found : fossil hackberry seeds
and petrified hackberry wood.

Led by Dr. Joseph P. Connolly, presi-
dent of the School of Mines, and James
D. Bump, curator of the museum, the ex-
pedition, including seven other members,
established camp in a fantastically
eroded region 25 miles from the nearest
highway. Their work was carried on in
the summer sunshine, where mid-after-
noon temperatures frequently reached
120 and 180 degrees Fahrenheit. Some
of the heaviest specimens were found
near the tops of high, slender pinnacles

THB PAPBR-MAKINQ MACHINB

Pafxe has become a vital necessity in
our daily lives. “Withput it, prilling
would be almost valueless, knowledge
would be obscure, and ooiintless indus-
tries would be at a standstill.

There are many people using it every
day and depending on it for a livelihood
who have never visited a factory or given
a thought to how it is made. They have
never watched tlie tremendous speed of
the gigantic machines as they turn it out
—a thousand feet a minute — ^two tons Jn
a single day.

For those who know nothing about the
processes of paper^making and not

and had to be lowered by block-and-
taekle.

The material collected by the expedi-
tion is particularly rich in rare speci-
mens because the work was confined to
geological formations in which very little
work has been done heretofore. These
are the Channel Sandstones, so called be-
cause the beds were formed by deposits
filling stream channels worn in the clay
surfaces in Oligoc^ene times, probably 30
million years ago. The surrounding clay
— ^now turned to shale — ^is softer and
much more easily worked, and from it
have come most of the Badlands speci-
mens previously collected.

In the museum workrooms at the
School of Mines, the specimens are being
placed one after another on the “operat-
ing table. “ Each is protected by many
yards of bandages which were soaked in
a plaster of paris “soup.“ These ban-
dages were allowed to stiffen before re-
moval from the field, and furnished ideal
protecting shells for the specimens. In
the workrooms the bandages are first cut
away, and the rocky matrix, which still
partly envelops the specimens, is care-
fully removed with chisels, dentists’ tools
and scrapers. As areas of the fossil bone
are exposed they are impregnated with
a thin solution of shellac to hiBU*den them.

' M. F.

AT THB FRANKLIN 1N8T1TUTB

live near a mill, the Franklin Institute
in Philadelphia has on permanent ex-
hibition a scale model paper-making
machine of the Pourdrinier type. It is
the only one of its kind in the world, and
demonstrates to the visitors how paper is
made in an easy understandable way,
without even the confusion«vone might
find in a large factory where just one of
the thirty dry^ is taller than the aver-
age man. This useful model is so small
that all the stages of paper-making can
be seen iff a glance, and yet so large that
each individual procedure can be care-
fully examined.

THE PEOOBESS OF SCIENCE

485

iiladif$ MUUer

AN EXPERIENCED PAPER-MAKER DEMONSTRATING THE MACHINE TO

PRANKLIN INSTITUTE VISITORS

Placed on a steel table eighteen feet
long and four and one half feet wide,
the ^machine makes five feet of paper a
minute, eight and one quarter inches
wide and can produce three or four

pounds an hour. It is operated and con-
trolled by push buttons and powered by
variable speed electric motors. A mix-
ture of wood pulp, soda and sulfite is
used in the small beater, and the machine

n , ■ — ; ’ ^ . ’ > ’ ' I ^

SCALE MOD& FOUBDSINIBi PAPEB-UAEINO H^CtKIKE

486

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ifi complete with a motor-driven pump,
miniature dryers and press felts.

Until the early part of the nineteenth
century, paper had been made almost en-
tirely by hand, but at that time a French-
man, Louis Robert, and several other
men were granted patents for paper-
making machines. Shortly afterwards
the invention was taken to England,
where a new company, backed by two
English stationers, Henry and Seeley
Fourdrinier, began building machines in
1807 which were sent to other parts of
the world bearing the name of the finan-
ciors.

In 1816, John Gilpin, of Philadelphia,

took out patents for the first American
paper machine, and examples of the
paper he made on it were displayed at the
opening exhibition of the Franklin In-
stitute. Ten years later, Allen and Wil-
liam Curtis were operating two Pour-
drinier machines, which they had pur-
chased in England, at their mill on the
Charles Biver.

Since those early days, the United
States has taken the lead in the manu-
facture of paper, and now, just 250 years
after David Bittenhouse started the first
mill near Philadelphia, this country pro-
duces more paper than the rest of the
Tnr world combined. jjmiLy p. Wallace

BOMBPROOF SHELTERS

Nearly a year ago the American pub-
lic was thrilled at the president's blithe
reference to our producing 50,000 mili-
tary airplanes per year and at Mr.
Pord^s alleged statement that he could
manufacture 1,000 a day. Now bomb-
proof shelters are called for with similar
disregard for serious difficulties.

For a structure to be really bombproof
its cover and sides must be of five to ten
feet of reinforced concrete or its equiva-
lent. It must be proof against poison gas
from the outside, and it must have un-
failing facilities for ventilation. It must
have an unfailing lighting system, it
must have water and sanitaiy conveni-
ences with unfailing drainage to avoid
drowning in case water pipes are broken,
it must have a first aid station, it mQB%

have separate sleeping rooms for men
and women, it must have telephone com-
munication with the outside, it must have
more than one exit, etc.

What about the cost of bombproof
structures? For those that are really
bombproof the cost has been estimated
to be of the order of $100 per person,
or about $66,000,000 for such a city
as Washington. The enormous cost in
money is only a minor part of the prob-
lem of providing bombproof shelters for ,
our great cities. The diversion of skillec!
labor in their construction and the drain
on materials essential for other purposes
would disrupt any adequate defense pro-
gram. If our forests were not so de-
pleted we might take to the woods.

F. E. M.

ZWICICY’S SYSTEMS IN SEXTANS AND IN LEO

Thk Scientific Monthly for Noveinber, them on photographs with the IS-ineh Sehmidt

1940, contains an article entitled Problems of refleetor, as objects v^ch fulfilled his ^teria

Nebular Besearch ’^ written by me and illus* for dwarf systeins of the type in question. .

trated by Mount Wilson photographs. Two Zwieky assembled a list of nech eihjeets

unusually interesting dwarf irregular nebulae, for further investigation with large telescopes,

shown on plates facing pages 399 and 401, are Baade, with the 100*inch, verified the id^i-
ealled ^^Baade’s System in Sextans’^ lind fi<:atiDii of ^ two systems undct dimmssibh ai^

< * Baade ^s System in Leo, * ’ respectively. determilied their distancic.

These designations are inoorrCct. They idkould matter of aameaclature is important he-

be <<Zwicky»B System in Sextans*’ and dwarf systems may play a

‘ ' Zwieky ’s System in 1^,^’ ’ Both nebifiae were in cowologiiml theoiy. The mgretta-

discovered by Dr. Frits Zwicfcy, of the CaU- was. called to fiiy attention by

fomin Institute of Teehnokigy, who identified Zwkky, B»wi»r MvmiM

THE SCIENTinC MONTHt*

JUNE, 1941

TRENDS IN PLANT SCV^

By Dr. D. T. MACDOUOAL

DIBXOTOK (UnilD), DEPABmiNT OV BOTAmOAI.

OABNIOII IKSTmiTION OP WABHINaVOM

The dawn of the present century may
be taken as the beginning of a new epoch
in plant science. Farther back than this
the impact of science on affairs was indi-
rect and not easily to be appraised. Rec-
ognition of the fact that studies of plants
from the view-point of the botanist
might really concern ^^culture, long
delayed, came with a rush ; the organiza-
tion of the Bureau of Plant Industry, the
members of which devoted attention to
special phases of nutrition, cultivation,
importation, selection and breeding of
crop plants, and in development of meth-
ods of protection of cereals, fruits and
tubers from the ravages of plant and
animal enemies, was accompanied by an
linorease of personnel from a few dozen
' to several hundred within two or three
years. Similar expansions in state ex-
periment stations followed. Research
facilities in universities and colleges were
notably increased. The New York
Botanical Garden came into full opera-
tion: the Desert Laboratory was estab-
lidied, and after thirty-six years of stud-
ies on desert vegetation is now concerned
with dosely rdated problems in soils
and erosion, to which some attention had
b^A/Hven from the first. The publica-
tioB <a the results obtained by hundreds
of reaeaxohmw produced a flood of tech-
nical uontrflrations for which new jour-
mfls iMN (Started.

TM i^(Mrimewtaliat in the Add or
laboi^ty as wdi as the researcher in
anjr braiuihea iff science soon found him-
aifif a stage in which words of common

usage could not express his findings, with
the result that it was ncessaiy to coin
new terms. This was the basis of the
origin of the much ridiculed “jargon” of
science. An article embodying a con-
tribution to science is to be compared
with a surveyor’s description of a tiract
of land. The specifications must relate
the location, inclnde a calculation, define
the boundaries of the area and make its
lines close with those of neighboring
similarly enclosed areas. Ideally its
accuracy must be such that the nearest
or next researcher or surveyor can start
from these established comers to outline
and define the boundaries of immeasured
areas beyond. Such articles are necessary
to progress and are written for the gui-
dance of other scientists and may not be
capable of expression in common lan-
guage. Like the field notes of a topo-
graphical survey of the Grand Canyon,
they make but dull reading for the lay-
man. These and similar writings are in
effect a foreign language. They, how-
ever, are necessary in placing material
facts on record.

Presently it became apparent that the
subjects of these unreadable and frahUy
unliterary papers treated of many things
of momentous intmr^ to general wel-
fare. It was in this stage of unfiflding
science that the war of 1914 opened. In
tile ensuing mobilization of the indus-
tries, scientists were asked to contribute
individual expertness, not in finding out
new things, but to apply what was known
in promoting security and the general

487

488

THE SOIBNTIFIO MONTHLY

welfare. The botanist turned his atten-
tion to the improvement of methods of
breeding, cultivation and processing of
plants and plant products.

A world-wide appraisal of national
and local resources ensued. Personal
participation in this survey brought
to light the fact that while something
like half of the copper in America was
produced in the district in which the
Desert Laboratory was located the pro-
duction of food was but 12 per cent, of
the needs of the population. The great
remainder and most of the power neces-
sary for its industries, farming and min-
ing, were derived from fuel coming across
three bridges over the Colorado Biver,
a situation now duplicated with varia-
tions in a hundred regions on the map
of the world.

The effectiveness of scientific methods
applied in war as well as in peace was
demonstrated. A general desire for more
news about science led to the organisa-
tion and endowment of Science Service in
1920, and to the addition of science edi-
tors to the staffs of many of the more im-
portant newspapers. Articles of fair
precision dealing with current contribu-
tions were given adequate space some-
times on the front page ; occasionally the
paragraphs indulged in fantastic and
startling headlines, but the actual news
was available to the reader. The possi-
bilities uncovered so stimulated the
imagination of writeai in this field, both
laymen and technical workers were led
into romanticising current activities nnd
to formulating prophecies, of which only
fragments might be evs realised, and a
lesser fraction within the span of any
living person. This statement must not
be taken to place all blame on newspapers
and popular writings. Scientists joined
in the glorification of contributions from
laboratories and observatories, with al-
most complete disregard of the fact that
new ideas recognised as important by a
few thousand scientists or by a few hun-
dred thousand intelligent readws may
not become practically available to so-

ciety in its adjustments to the swiftly
moving developments in economics of the
present day.

Here, as in all the disciplines of knowl-
edge, results must in the first instance be
made accessible to workers in the same
and in adjacent fields by presentation
with exactness, and with some attempt to
arrange the new findings in perspective.
The obligation to make available tiie im-
plications of the widened knowledge thus
achieved to the economist, the technol-
ogist, the sociologist, the statesman and
to all forward-looking persons is not leas
binding. We can not persuade or com-
pel their acceptance ; to secure approval
and utilization we must make our contri-
butions of such weight, render our inter-
pretations so dear and their pertinence
to life so convincing that their adoi>-
tion will be inevitable.

The originator of a. new food product,
new fabric or new motor or the statesman
who devdops an advanced plan of organi-
zation or administration does not stop
with a simple announcement, but follows
it up with continuing explanations and
demonstrations of the manner in which
the new idea may be utilized to indi-
vidual and genend welfare. The sden-
tist is apt to recount his discoveries to •
few colleagues, then toss them out the
laboratory window to be picked up, used
or abused by aeddent

Two important considerations appear
in aqy discussion of the relation of the
sdentist to tiie society of which he forms
a part. First, it is to be said in repeti-
tion of a previous paragraph, that while
unceasing efforts to pnUicize facts neuiy
acquired in the laboratory, to emphasize
their importance to the general welfare,
or to raise warnings against
and dangers in current practiees may be
made many results of evident value must
be available for long periods before they
affect current practices. It is pertinent
to repeat the trite pronouncement that
if every person and all the people would
f dlow definable and practical precautions
all the major bodily ailments exeept

TRENDS IN PLANT SCIENCE

489

perhapi eancer and oolds would dwindle
into iungniflcsnoe.

It waa inevitable that cries of ‘‘Science
is a failure” should have been heard in
the economic crises of the last decade.
If the scientist will continue to claim that
he is ‘‘remaking the world” these out-
bursts are neither unmerited nor unjust.
Now that the period of most emphatic
censure of science and of scientists for
their futility, and in a time when re-
searchers of all kinds are being called
from appointed tasks to collaborate in
technological plans for the national se-
curity, Nobel prise winners, heads of de-
partments in great universities, and
research directors of great industries are
indulging in optimistic prophecies and
forecasts as to the benefits to be expected
from current investigations. Pronounce-
ments are shaped up into a ballyhoo,
which discounts the possible, painful
tedious advances of the next generation,
and is an open invitation to the repeti-
tion of acrid disappointments which have
recently been so freely expressed.

As a further prelude to the discussion
of the subject of this article it should be
kept in mind that science is essentially
nothing more than aj^niatised curios-
ity. Primarily it means that it devotees
continuously seek to widen their knowl-
edge of the world about them, first by
simple direct use of their own senses
and by experiments, using such tools
and apparatus as may be necessary. No
serious objection can be raised to this
form of learning, and it is widely em-
ployed in education. Society has recog-
nised the value of inquisitiveness in pro-
moting culture, advancing civilisation
and in the development of industries.
Lab^iftatories, observatories and experi-
ment stations have been founded, al-
though never to a capacity to meet the
full requiremaits of eager and able in-
veatigatorB.

Adequate or hot, the obligation of the
sdentist is to make highest and greatest
possible use of the facilities provided.
The axpariniffintaUst must realise, how-

ever, that the mgoyment of his oppor-
tunities does not give him license to blow
soap-bubbles. 'While no restriction can
be safely placed on creative thinking,
yet the tools of science find their proper
function in securing results that will ex-
tend knowledge with implied alteration
of current generalisations or which will
open new vistas.

The following brief sketch of the cur-
rent activities in laboratories devoted to
plant science will serve to illustrate the
nature of the problems under investiga-
tion. The diligent reader may decide for
himself whether or not the facilities, ex-
penditures and opportunities placed at
the disposal of botanists, horticulturists,
crop disease fighters and plant breeders
have been profitably used for widening
knowledge and to the economic advan-
tage of society, which has provided them.

The recently observed centennial of
the discovery of protoplasm and the
recognition of the cell as the unit of liv-
ing material — both conceptions antedat-
ing the recognition of the molecule as an
entity — serves to emphasize the fact that
at this time when the physicist is success-
fully concerned with the resolution of
the elements into constituent forms of
energy or matter, such as electrons, neu-
trons, protons, mesotrons, the physiol-
ogist is taking the living unit apart and
variously manipulating its chromosomal
particles. Once the elements or units of
either living or non-living matter are
thus taken apart, not all the king’s horses
nor all the king’s men can put thAm
together again.

There has recently come into the field
of the physiologist a form of matter,
known as the viruses, with such extraor-

dinary properties and with such dread
importance as destructive agents as to
mi^e necessary the erection of a new
category of organisms. '\nms units are
now regarded as single large molecules
of a proteinaeeouB structure. These
may unite with or break down proto-
plann of cells, Kriiieh they permeate
readily, but unlike catalysts lose mme of

490

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

their energy. Propagation is incitar
tion, not by fission as in protoplasmic
action, as the single large molecole may
catise the formation of myriad patterns
of itself.

The plant pathologist, earlier con*
cemed mth the life-histories of fnngi
and bacteria and protozoa, 'which affect
plants of economic value, now finds him-
self confronted 'with the still more seri-
ous problem of protecting crops against
the ravages of these 'viruses, which have
capacities for infection and damage
widely unlike those of any organism
previously encountered. Breeding of
resistant strains, developments of im-
munities by methods of cultivation and
sterilization of soils, seeds and propa-
gules are practiced. Some of the fea-
tures by which immunity may be paro-
'vided by the plant are due to morpho-
logical characters, while others rest
upon undiscovered or indefinable prop-
erties of protoplasm. Development of
resistance to the 'viruses is the most
diffloult of all problems.

In the four decades following the ap-
pearance of Darwin’s ’’Origin of Spe-
cies,” in which biologists indulged in
voluminous essiys on heredity, deseent
and evolution, 'with but little reference
to li'ving material, the Weissmanian
hypothesis of the unalterable and un-
changeable germ-plasm dominated all
thinking, and not until experimental
methods of study were fully adopted at
the close of the century was it possible
to escape from its thrall. - The mutative
departure in lines of descent as uncov-
ered by the researches of the great
Dutch botanist DeVries constituted the
beginning of modem studies in gepetics,
the results of which have carried us as
far away from that soporific dogma as
has the use of the cyclotron from the old
conception of ’’frozen” atoms.

Led by a note by Charles Darwin as
to some ’’fool expwiments” he had
made in injecting chemicals into leaves
with the idea of bringing about mor-
phological alterations the author

some eqtudly crude but successful at-
tempts to modify egg oella by injeetiiq'
zinc salts into pistils in 1905. Next
Gager used radium emanations more ex-
actly administered with more definite
results. Many skilled experimenters
using various agencies have ainoe in-
duced changes in the nuclear partides
or chromosomes, which vary in number
from species to species from a few to
several dozen. These bodies undergo
mitosis, splitting into pairs, the halves
uniting 'with fragments from other units
generally 'with final reductions so that
the ultimate cells carry the initial
number of chromosomes.

Exposure of cells during mitosis to
various agents or unusual conditions of
temperature may result in cells with
multiples of the initial number of chro-
mosomes, or the loss of some, may slow
do'wn the action of some or speed up the
action of others, 'with consequent dis-
junctions, or may alter the insulating
sheath of one so that it may be subject
to an unusual disturbance by another.
Now these particles are the actual physi-
cal bearers of the hereditary qualities,
and the offspring arising from such al-
tered chromosome complexes will not be
like the parent plant and this unlike-
ness may be pass^ on to its descendants.
Hybridization entails the union of par-
ticles derived from the chromosomes of
unlike parents, and this action has long
been utilized in securing forms with
qualities of greater econmnic ^ue.

Taxonomy or qnstematic botaiqr has
been for the past century the most com-
plete^ static branch of botany. Classi-
fication of tite elements of floras or the
plants of newly explored areas and
alterations in nomenclature ha!b> ob-
sorbed most of the energy of the wmrkers
in this Add.

Spedes, instead of being regarded as
undterable lines of desooit, are known
to undergo dianges from generation to
generation baaed upon multiplieation,
loss or disjunction of chromosoBM^ in-
duced by newly encountered eonditiona

TRENDS IN PLANT SCIENCE

401

or eomplexoB of aoil, aeasonal variatioiui,
mraioal radiations or animal cooper-
ators. Many hundreds of species of
seed-plants are now known which in-
clude races or strains with atypie chro-
mosomal characters. The analysis of
these and other complexities of genetic
constitution promises the surest founda-
tion for advance in studies of speciation
and evolutionary derivation as well as
for an intelligent procedure in the de-
velopment of better fruits and grains.

Perhaps no function of plant life ex-
ceeds in basic interest the complicated
process by which carbon dioxide of the
air, water and nutrient salts are drawn
in, bonded, compounded and made avail-
able to be transformed into living maV
ter and all the complicated tissues and
structures of organisms. Directly or in-
directly such vegetable material is the
food of all animals. The commonest
substances of the soil are utilised. It is
known that some rarer elements that are
drawn up in the sap in minute propor-
tions are necessary, but these, like potas-
sium, magnesium and sodium, are
widely distributed and are present
wherever vegetation finds a foothold.

The mtire process of carbon conver-
sion is chiefly carried on in leaves or
tissues containing chlorophyll and is
known as photosynthesis. The dissocia-
tion of water or of carbon dioxide on
catalytic surfaces by energy derived
from absorbed light may be regarded as
being a plausible genendisation as to the
nature of the process, yet it is to be ad-
mitted that the results do not conform
to the pertinent mathematical equation.

The fact that a green plant may car^
on the process for limited periods in
darkahifi, and that a colorless flagellate,
Ohilonumas, has been demonstrated by
Mast Atid Pace to be capable of carbon
conversion and accumulation of starch,
in a sterile culture of mineral nutrients
in darkness and that a common mould,
AqiergSlns, uses carbon dioxide, sug-
gests that protoplaam may have a fun-
dantental eapamly for the necessary

catalsrses, with whatever low level of
energy mi^ be available.

In the group of sulfur bacteria, in-
cluding several genera and many color-
less species, carbon conversion is carried
on in darkness by the use of energy de-
rived from the oxidation of hydrogm
sulfide, a necessary constituent of thmr
nutritive medium. The purple bacteria
of this group carry a greenish ‘‘bac-
teriochlorin'* (not related to chloro-
phyll) and a reddish earotinoid, whidi
absorb energy from light and carry out
carbon conversion.

The facts cited justify the inference
that while protoplasm has a basic ca-
pacity for the assimilation of carbon,
the necessary energy may have been de-
rived from many sources in the evolu-
tionary development of plants, that
many light screens may have been used
and discarded, that the pigments of the
purple bacteria is an example of light-
absorbent mechanisms, however numer^
ous in the past, are now of limited occur-
rence, and that the chlorophyll appa-
ratus, the prevailing type of sun-screen,
makes available a comparatively enor-
mous amount of radiant energy for
carbon conversion in green plants.

That their entire supply of carbohy-
drates may be synthesised by chloro-
pbylless s^-plants, when their under-
ground parts are associated with fungi
to form mycorrhisae has long been
known. About two hundred species in
the heath, orchid, gentian and triurid
families are devoid of green color. Their
supply of carbon may be derived from'
humus products through the cooperat-
ing fungi, and the possibility is not es-
eluded that the simpler carbon dioxide
may be utilised. All forest trees have
mycorrhisal root-systems and derive a
considerable share of woody material in
this manner. Here as in the case
nitrogen fixation by plants with root-
nodules o<mtaining a symbiotic rhiao-
bium the possibility that the bonding
this simple and important element mty
be carried out by the protoplasm of the

492

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

higher plant is heightened by the faet
that some researches have yielded evi-
dence that nitrogen fixation may be
accomplished by seed-plants.

Alteration of perspective to bring
basic capacities of living matter into the
foreground and development of new in-
strumentB and methods of research, in-
cluding the use of radioactive isotypes,
the electron microscope and fresh tech-
nique in cytological experimentation,
may be expected to rescue the problems
in carbon conversion and nitrogen fixa-
tion from the stalemate in which they
now are found.

Protoplasm has a capacity by which
it draws into its mass a wide variety of
substances of inducing chemical com-
binations beyond those implied in photo-
synthesis and of converting the result-
ing material into the colloidal state
characteristic of living matter. Such
accretions are the essential feature of
growth. Increase in size has been the
subject of innumerable observations.
By compilation of measurements of
rates of increase a curve has been plotted
expressing the fact that in the growth of
any unit, any organ or any individual
plant or animal the rate is at first low,
then quickly rises to a maximum, after
which it falls off very gradually. In the
case of many perennial plants growth
continues during the lifetime of the in-
dividual, which may be as long as three
thousand years in the big Sequoia of the
Sierra Nevada.

The newer researches on growth haVe
been concerned with analysis of the
physical conditions which make for the
accretions to, depletion or repletion of
the protoplast or of its organa, and -to a
study of the morphogenic procedure by
which cells in the latter part of their
curve of growth may undergo differen-
tiation into the tissues. So great is the
activity in this field that a society has
been organized to promote ready com-
munication among the workers engaged
and to support a journal for the pubU-
cation of pertinent contributions. 'While

both zoologists and botanists have con-
joined in this movement it is conceded
that the generative cdls of plants dSer
the widest variety of opportunities for
experimental study.

This last consideration applies with
especial force to auxins or growth-pro-
moting and growth-inhibiting sub-
stanch vitamines and respiratory fer-
ments, which may originate hi one part
of the plant and be translocated to an-
other, or vtiiich, as in the ease of most
trees, mty be derived from the organic
matter in the soil or may be furnished
by cooperating fungi with which the
roots form a ss^biosis as in mycorrhiza.

The action of these substances has
been compared to the secretions of the
ductless glands of animals with but slight
enlightenment. As they are translo-
cated from the region of origin to neigh-
boring tracts much afto: the manner of
other organic material thmr designa-
tion as hormones is also misleading.

The growing points of stems and roots
are of primary generative cells, the
growth of which results in increase in
length. Increase of thickness is pro-
duced by the division of growth of sec-
ondary generative cells. The two tracts
differ in their properties so that the in-
dolic acids “auxius*’ chedcs

or inhibits the activity of growing points
in buds or roots and thus prevents ehm-
gation, while cambium or secondary gen-
erative cellB are stimulated. Growth in
length is facilitated by vitaminet and by
several mineral elements derivable from
soils. The conjoint activity of many of
these substances is responsible for the
orderly precession of organ-formation
and for the completion of the processes
of differentiation of cells into..<*tasaes,
such as vessels, tracheids, fiblki, tieve
cells, cork, etc. Such a well4mit imto-
gram would result from growth-promot-
ing substances originating with the
plant However, when the roots of long^
lived perennials such as trees are fva-
niahed growth-proomoting substanees as
usually occurs in mycOTthiiae, by fungi

TRENDS IN PLANT SCIENCE

or other organiema in the soil, seasonal
growth be initiated weelu or even
months in advance of any possible
snpply from the shoot.

Some of the tropisms by which stems
bmid toward or away from sources of
radiant energy or in direct or negative
response to gravity make the implied
curvatures by unequal growth caused by
localised formation or accumulation of
‘‘auxins.” A wide variety of useful
practices in culture and development of
economic plants has been made possible
by researches on growth, as regulated
by auxins, vitamines and “trace” min-
eral elements.

The results cited above may be taken
to exemplify the content of thousands
of contributions which embody the trend
of investigation of the nature and action
of organisms. The solutions of the
problems obtained afford a basis for a
better comprehension of the world of
plants and animals and make possible a
more intelligent adjustment by man to
his place in nature. A material part of
this adjustment finds expression in im-
proved methods of agriculture in both
plant and animal industries.

About four thousand million acres of
land surface may be profitably utilized
in agriculture. While the population of
the globe has doubled within the last
eighty years to a total of well over a
thousand million, the application of well-
known biological laws makes it highly
improb^le that there will ever be as
many as two thousand million people
alive on the earth at any time. Agricul-
tural products year by year and every
year have shown a surplus, although
local failures of oroi» have resulted in
famineiUbefore supplies could be moved
into the mricken area.

Applieation ot available knowledge
as to growth, breeding and c^ture could
be made to increase the yield two or
even three timea. Although these facts
coBstitate a guarantee of material se-
curity, to be recalled in any attempt to
unanarl tangled, ecmiomic conditions.

their recapitulation by no means in-
cludes all the factors to be taken into
account Certain technologioal acrivi-
ties, political and sociological develop-
ments, present a much more comiflex
problem for which an equation has not
yet been found.

Only reluctantly will scientists admit
that any technological program is not
beneficial in all its effects. It is assumed
that any new mechanical device or that
any new conversion of material to an-
other use is justifiable and contributory
to the general welfare. Researchers
whose pronouncements in their own fields
of investigation are widely accepted will
naively but boldly allege that new auto-
matic machinery, new processes and all
alterations in the use of basic raw ma-
terials are immediately beneficiaL Noth-
ing could be more fallacious. A new
textile, a new alloy or a new plastic may
impair the welfare of the inhabitants of
regions widely distant. Two or three
generations may live out their lives
under stress before readjustment is
made. “Survival of the fittest” is a
fairly benign idea in comparison.

The plant scientist in the laboratory
and his collaborators in the experimen-
tal field can sustain the plea of not guilty
to this lack of comprehension of the
serious consequences of diversion of raw
materials.

Early in the period during which a
rapid increase in population occurred
three fourths of everything used or con-
sumed was derived from the fields, for*
ests or from animals supported by them.
Despite varied utilization of wastes, with
no deficiency even with the mormoudy
increased population, this proportion
has now fallen to about one fourth. The
products of the coal-fields, oil-wells,
quarries, salt deposits and mines are
now being drawn upon heavily and
processed to meet the requirements of
material for tools, hnplements, machin-
ery, power, textiles, houses, dyes and a
vast wray of compounds used in food,
medicine and the industries. Three

THE SdBNTinO MONTHLY

fourths of human wants and needs are
met by this material at the present time.

The stores of material thus drawn
upon were accumulated in long geolog-
ical periods, and would be replaceable
only by a repetition of the conditions
under which they were laid down.
Whether these deposits may be ex-
hausted within a hundred or two hun-
dred years is debatable. But presum-
ably, since they are measurable, they are
not inexhaustible. In their uncontrolled
exploitation, accumulated savings are
being used, while possible annual income
from the farm and forest are neglected.
It is true that much attention has been
given to processing of surpluses of or-
ganic material such as sugar, starch,
wood, cotton, beans, potatoes, fruits,
hulls, stems, etc., but the portentous pro-
porti<niste reduction in the use of farm
products prevails.

QreaHy contributory to the condition
implied are the political conditions
which in connection with wars has
started movements toward nationalisa-
tion of industries. The present ten-
dency is to the effect that every country
should develop substitutes or And new
sources for the raw materials ordinarily
received in free commerce from other
regions in which they can be produced
most readily. In statements as to the
adequacy of the replacements careless-
ness as to qualities and expense is of the
commonest occurrence. Conclusions as
to the failures of science may sometimes
be traced to extravagant and inaccurate
claims made by technologists and in-
ventors. As an example it is to be said
that since this manuscript was begun a
false claim has been made that com-
pounds have been found that may be
used successfully in combating malaria
instead of quinine, the principal supply
of which is now processed in Java. Such
a claim is not supported by reliable
medical authorities.

Another dangerous delusion as to sub-
stitutes for rubber is being widely pub-
licised. A number of plasties have been

made in the laboratory whidi have some
of the propertiea of the plant prodnet.
One is made mainly from derivatives of
crude oil. A few msy ^i^d in motor
tires. All are laboratory products.
None may be compounded in a factory
as economically as plantation rubber.
Possession of the formulae for such ma-
terial is valiud>le and might mean much
for national security. l%eir production
and use for special purposes to which
they are better suited than rubber is of
course justifiable on fundamental ecu*
nomic grounds. But since the consump-
tion of rubber is steadily increasing at a
rate which will soon reach twelve pounds
annually per capita it is important that
widely distributed sources of supply, as
in the ease of sugar, be maintained at all
times. The areas in which this material
may be grown might be extended many
times without infringing on land suit-
able for the production of staple foods.
The survey of tracts suitable for rubber
in Brazil, Quatemala and elsewhere by
the U. S. Department of Agriculture
can be applauded as a wise measure
although somewhat bdated.^

Not all the featues of unbalance can
be attributed to the blind zeal of tech-
nologists, however. It is a well-reeog-
nized principle in most industries that
over-production should be avoided. No
such rational procedure is to be expected
in the greatest of all industries, agricul-
ture. For example, with the annual pro-
duction of cotton at all times adequate
to the world’s needs, including all con-

*The sb«ye eeaddentton* slw spp^ to
gnayolo, the rubber derived from Parthenimn
argentatum, s email ahmb nattve to northern
Menieo and weetem TeaSa. A rnilUon pounds
of raw rubber is turned montiily from wild
shrub by faetories in Mesieo. About, ten thou-
sand pounds ean be produced daily y the fae-
tory which proeesses ^ants from an experi-
mental plantation of several thousand aeres at
Salinas, Oalifomia. The eoeeea rf ui domaetiea-
tion of this plant and the developmaDt of strains
in which rubber eonstttutes SI per eent. of the
dry weii^t of harvested material is a no te wor th y
apienltnral aeeompllshment. '*X)metgan^ m1^
ber" can be seeored in one year After fendns'
tiott of seeds and predtaUe er^ in three or
four years.

TBEimS IN PLANT SGIENGE

496

venioiu, and with millions of bales of
sorplns stacked in yards and wardiouses
from the Imperial Valley to South Caro-
lina, in Mexico, Bgypt, Mesopotamia,
Nigeria, India and elsewhere, heavier
plantings are made. Here as in medical
science practice of known facts would
abolish important economic illness.

The scientist has no power by which
he may implement his disapproval of
this blundering procedure. By the ap-
plication of the results of his researches
improved strains of many kinds of
plants have been selected, bred or im-
imrted; varieties suitable for different
climates, regions and populations have
])een selected, and a never-ending fight
in protection of crops carried with nota-
ble successes, so that there is now and
m^ forever be food and clothing ade-
quate to insure the comfort and welfare
of whatever thousands of millions of peo-
ple are to be supplied. It is only neces-
sary that such material move freely and
speedily from the plantation to the con-
sumer. It is to b^ admitted, however,
that these efforts of the scientist, by the
results of which famine in any part of
the world might easily be averted, have
contributed in no small degree to major
disturbances in an economic system
based in part on barriers to distribution,
shortages in manufactured products and
the nearness of want. Admission of
guilt to such an indictment is accom-
panied by no feeling of shame. It is to
be pleaded in extenuation that the phys-
ical standards of living have been raised,
the enrichment of culture promoted and
a wider awareness of the world about us
achieved.

Sinee research, invention and technol-
ogy in generrii is fraught with such seri-
ous pondlbilities, it wUl be of interest to
note the current activities of the plant
scientist.

The centennial of the discovery of the
cdQ, as the unit of living matter, finds
lito deeply engaged in an analysis of its
orgtmlxati<m ; in the study of the inter-
play of its minute parts by which the

hereditary charactras of the plant or ani-
mal are transmitted from genera^mi: . to
generation witii attention to the indden-
tal and experimental combinations or
modifications of these characters. The
specific influence of the enasrmes, vita-
mines and auxins, and the nature of the
viruses are to be determined. The phjrs-
ical procedure by which the ordinary
substances of the soil, air and wator are
drawn into the cell and transformed into
the colloidal states of protoplasm are not
to be regarded as understood until they
are capable of being ei^ressed as mathe-
matical equations the minor factors of
which are being diligently sotight. The
power by which these operations are car-
ried out is derived by oxidation of or*
ganic substances the formulae of which
are yet to be framed satisfactorily. Still
more remote is the fundamental capacity
of protoplasm by which bonding in ni-
trogen and of carbon is carried out in its
complex colloidal mechanism. The con-
version of both of these all-important
but inert elements is increased by sup-
plementary processes in the higher
plants. Nitrogen fixation is markedly
facilitated by the symbiotic cooperation
of a bacterium in root-nodules, while
carbon conversion is enormously accel-
erated when radiant energy is made
available by the screening action of
chlorophyll or other pigment, the process
then being known as photosynthesis.
The included reactions present some
baffiing problems to the physiologist
Since these two phases of activities al
plants are vitally necessary to the ex-
istence and eontinuanee of life they are
due to receive increasing attention from
researchers who emplqy new reagents as
their effects become known, the products
of the c3rclotron as they become avail-
able, new angles of approach as they give
promise, and new designs in apparatus
such as the electron microscope when
they enable the inquirer to drive more
deeply into tbe nature, structure and
operation of living matter.

MAUPERTUIS, AND THE PRINCIPLE

OF LEAST ACTION

By JBROHB FBB

WABHINOTON, D. 0.

Every MtioB of nature ia made along the short-

est possible way . — Leonardo da Viaei,

Tbb principle of least action was dis-
coTcred by Manpertuis in 1744. Three
great mathematicians — ^Euler, Lagrange
and Sir William Hamilton— contributed
to the development of that principle. By
the end of the nineteenth century, it
could be said that the whole science
of mechanics rested on this same idea.
At that time, undreamt-of things lay
ahead: relativily and the quantum the-
ory were just around the comer; the
mechanics of Newton failed completely
within the atom ; least action seemed also
to fail, and then, by a sudden transfor-
mation, became the cornerstone of the
new "wave mechanics" which embraces
all the old mechanics and the new as
well. It is not strange that the principle
of least action is sometimes regarded as
the greatest generalization in the realm
of physical science.

In its technical sense, the term "ac-
tion" is not recognized by the dictionary
or encylopedia. It is foreign to library
catalogues. The principle derived from
it is known only to a small group of scien-
tific specialists. Clearly,^ some ezplaiia-
tion is needed to reconcile the absence
of all general understanding of this
subject with the fact of its surpassing
importance.

There are three reasons for this
strange situation. First, the idea of
action is difficult to explain, as will, per-
haps, be demonstrated in ^e course of
this article. Secondly, the advantages of
the principle, as applied to the solution
of mechanical problems, were far from
obvious. It has taken two hundred years

to recognize its possibilities. Thirdly,
the mathematical difficulties of proving
that action tends towards a minimum, as
distinguished from an extremum (eitiier
a maximum or a minimum), were for
many years incapable of a satisfactory
solution.

The author of this principle, Man-
pertnis, was one of the scientific leaders
of the eighteenth century. His own
peculiar genius and remarkaUe energy,
combined with a dramatic environment,
gave his career a contemporary fame
which has seldom been equalled. To-day,
he is practically unknown, or is remem-
bered only as an object of ridicule and
contempt. If the principle which he dis-
covered has waited overlong for recog-
nition, there is a striking parallel in the
fate of the author.

The simplest way to approach the prin-
ciple of least action is to consider, first,
some human traits i^ch do not seem
connected with abstract science. In our
daily lives, particularly in our work, we
strive as for as possible to "save time and
energy." The expression is a eommon
one. Let us look at this from a new
standpoint: which of the two, energy or
time, are we most anxious to save? Are
we willing to expend a vast amount of
ffosegy, provided that our results are
accomplished in a very short timet Or
would we rather take an exceedingly long
time, provided that the expenditure of
energy is sufficiently smallf The first
calls for great power, or energy per unit
of time; the second calls for a great
quantity of time per unit of energy.
There is no recognised name for the lat-
ter concept We shall caU it "rewep"

49e

THE PRINOIPLE OP LEAST ACTION

497

(pronounced, rew-op). The derivation
vrill be easily recognised sinee, in a sense,
rewop is the opposite of power. All of
ns have known people who are inelined
to be a little rewopfuL

If we examine the laws which prevail
in the physical world, we find that when-
ever there is more than one conceivable
method of operation, nature follows the
one in which the product of the time
multiplied by the energy is the least pos-
sible amount Simple as this seems, it is
the key to the solution of all mechanical
problems. We have expressed it in
mathematical form. It is merely another
way of sajring that nature saves both
time and energy, but that she has no
preference between the two. Great
power or great rewop— it is all the same.
She would just as soon save time as
energy.

There are many concepts similar to the
idea of energy multiplied by time. Mo-
mentum is one. It is mass multiplied by
veloci^. To grasp these concepts is diffi-
cult for those who do not deal constantly
with such things. On the other hand, it
is eaey for an engineer to think of mo-
mentum. Usually, he will not even care
about the mass or Ae velocity, separately.
What he needs is the product of the
two, expressed in centimeter-per-second-
grams or similar \mits. He deals with
forces; and this is the measure of a force :
rate of change of momentum.

Few of us can remember the time when
we to<A our first tottering steps ; walking
upright, with great care and concentra-
tion, on our two legs. Before we could
do ^t, we must have acquired, some-
where in the back of our heads, a very
fair idea of momentum.

It is different witiii energy multiplied
by time. We have gotten along quite
snoeessfuUy in the past without this
idea; as a oonsequenee, our minds are
inoapable of fusing energy and time into
a single ocmoepi The first step, of
ooniw; must be to find a word for this

unfamiliar quantity. Unfortunately, it
already has a name— aetion — and no
more unsatisfaetory name could possibly
have been chosen. What are we to think
when a million kilowatt-hours of energy
delivered in ten minutes is called *'ae-
tion”; and ten kilowatt-hours delivered
in a million minutes is likewise called
“action,” — and the same amount of
action I It was no slight scientifie dis-
aster when we missed our chance of call-
ing this quantity “entropy” or “en-
thalpy” or some other incomprehensible
word.

The difficulty of grasping this new, or
rather this old, concept which we must
now call “action” cannot be exagger-
ated. One of the two or three books in
English which go into this subject thor-
oughly was written by the great English
physicist, E. J. Bouth. He states that a
function representing action “expresses
the whole accumulation of vis viva.’* He
must have known that the whole accumu-
lation of vis vivo (an obsolete term for
kinetic energy) is still nothing more than
vis viva, or energy; while aetion is
energy multiplied by time.

Was Bouth’s mistake a mere over-
sightT If so, it is strange that Heinridi
Hertz, the great German physicist,
should have made the same blunder.
Hertz writes: “It is difficult to see how
the summation of energies existing at
different times could yield anything more
than a BeehnungsgrSsse.” This is the
German word for : an artificial quantity
which is perfectly useless except for
practice in arithmetic. Notice again the
same idea of a summation of energy,
when he was really dealing with an
accumulation of action. This emphasi%
placed on energy, is fatal to an undw-
standing of action. It is a mistake we
are prone to make. In our ordinary use
of the term “power” we think vi energy
first and time second, although each has
an equal share in this wmeept It was
for this particular reaam that we in-

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

498

sisted on the obyions fact that power ia
not more essential than its own inverse,
rewop. Whatever else action may be,
it is a partnership of time and energy in
which neither can be emphasized a shade
more than the other.

For a truly profound insight into this
matter, coupled with prophetic vision,
we have the words of Thomson (Lord
Kelvin) and Tait, written in 1879 ;
‘‘Maupertuis’ celebrated principle of
Leati Action has been, even up to the
present time, regarded rather as a curi-
ous and somewhat perplexing property
of motion than as a useful guide in ki-
netic investigations. We are strongly
impressed with the conviction that a
much more profound importance will be
attached to it, not only in abstract dy-
namics, but in the liieory of several
branches of physical science now begin-
ning to receive dynamic explanations.”

It is not my purpose to go into the
present-day theory of least action. In-
deed, the story of Maupertuis, himself,
now demands our attention. But before
leaving the scientific phase which is in-
separable from the biographical, some
account must be given of how this re-
markable prophecy of Thomson and
Tait has ^n borne out in the new
quantum theory.

Planck discovered that radiant energy
(light, heat, and electricily) seems to
travel in little units, or packets, of en-
ergy, called ” quantuihs. ’ * Bach particu-
lar radiation has its own rate of vibra-
tion, — so many cycles or kilocycles per
second. The energy in a quantum is not
the same for waves of different fre-
quency, but if we multiply the energy in
a quantum by the corresponding time it
takes for one complete vibration, the sur-
prising fact is disclosed that in every
case &e resulting action is the same
amount. This de^te quantity is 26-
zeros-65420 erg-seconds of action ; or 89-
zeros-1817 kilowatt-hour-seconds. It is
called Planck’s constant.

Heretofore, we may have been haunted,
by the idea that there is smnething arti-
ficial, something unreal, about the con-
cept of action. Planck’s constant is the
crowning proof that Maupertnia’s dis-
covery pertained to something universal
and everlasting. The fundamental na-
ture of this concept is further attested
by the fact that action is not relative. It
is one of the few quantities which was
left untouched by Einstein’s Theory.

We come, now, to the man, himself:
Pierre Louis Moreau de Maupertuis was
bom in Saint-Malo, in 1698. Coming
from a family of wealth and position, he
was able at an early age to devote himself
to the study of science. At the age of
twenty-five he was admitted to the Paris
Academy of Science, chiefly by reason of
original work in mathematics. He went
to London, in 1728, the year Newton
died, and became a member of the Boyal
Society. Thereafter, he became an ardent
supporter of the Newtonian theory of
gravitation, which was violently opposed
in France, where the ideas of Descartes
were considered invincible.

In 1730, Voltaire wrote a letter to
Maupertuis, full of the lavish compli-
ments of the period; praising his scien-
tific achievements, and asking for Mau-
pertuis’s confirmation of Newton’s the-
ory. Afterwards, the two met and were
friends for twenty years; together th^
were responsible for the final acceptance,
in France, of the Newtonian theory.
Maupertuis was appointed by the King
of France to lead a scientific expedition
to Lapland, where he measured an arc
of tile meridian for the purpose of prov-
ing that the earth is flattened at the
poles, as Newton had predicted.

I have made little attmnpt to show the
color and romance of a career which had
already acquired unusual interest I
now approach a drama as strange as any
in the annals of science. Two of the
characters have already boon introduced ;
the third was Frederick the Oreat of

THE PBINOZPLE OF LEAST ACTION

ProMns; and the fourth was Samuel
S^oeuigi professor of mathematics, a
native of Switserland.

Upon Voltaire’s recommendation,
Frederick the Great invited Maupertuis
to take the office of president of ^e new
Berlin Academy of Science. Maupertuis
accepted the offer and went to Berlin in
1740. Four years later, he published his
first account of the principle of least
action.

It is signifloent to find that his dis-
covery was made in connection with the
theory of light, and was later applied to
mechanics. Years afterward, Sir Wil-
liam Hamilton, recognizing the analogy
between light and mechanics, developed
in a brilliant maimer the mathematical
correspondence between the two. His
results were not fully appreciated until
1924, when Luis de Broglie published his
Astounding theory of wave mechanics.
Strange to say, Maupertuis — ^the man
who helped to overthrow the Cartesian
theory of gravitation — ^was himself de-
ceived by Descartes’s absurd paradox
that light travels fastest through the
densest medium ; and, starting from this
wholly erroneous premise, he made his
greatest discovery.

In 1746, Maupertuis presented his me-
chanical theory of least action. Immedi-
ately, a controversy arose concerning the
new theory, in which Maupertuis found
himself opposed by a former friend and
fellow student, Samuel Koenig. There
were, of course, others who denied the
importance and truth of the new theory ;
Koenig, however, claimed that not only
was the theory based on erroneous con-
ceptions, but that Leibnitz had developed
the same idea, long before his death, and
had eommunicated it in a letter to Her-
mann. This letter, according to Koenig,
had fallen into the hands of a certain
Hensi, from 'vdiom Koenig had obtained
aoqiiy. He presented a fragment of this
copy to the Beilin Academy, and later
cent a copy of the entire letter to

Maupertuis. Naturally, Maupertuis de-
manded to know where the original letter
could be found, or what evidence there
was of the authenticily of this copy;
which, if it were genuine, proved con-
clusively that Leibnitz had anticipated
his own discovery.

Unfortunately, Henzi had since had
his head cut off, ^ving been convicted of
treason to the state; and Hermann had
preceded him to another world. Koenig
was therefore without witnesses ; and was
unable to offer any suggestions as to
where the original letter might be found.
He confined his exertions chiefly to an
attempt to prove that the theory was
erroneous and without value. Mau-
pertuis then put the matter before the
Berlin Academy, and a formal demand
was made upon Koenig by the Secretary
to produce the original letter or other
satisfactory evidence. Months passed,
during which searches were made, at the
instigation of the Academy and of Fred-
erick, to discover any possible trace of
the letter among the papers of Leibnitz,
Hermann, or Henzi. Meanwhile, Vol-
taire took up the quarrel on the side of
Koenig.

There are two cardinal points which
must be understood in connection with
this famous episode. The first is, that
Maupertuis’s title to fame for the dis-
covery of least action was not even chal-
lenged. Had Koenig succeeded in prov-
ing the authenticity of his copy, it would
not have detracted from the brUlianoe of
Maupertuis’s adiievement As he was the
first to publish, his place in history- is
secure. Newton and Leibnitz, for exanh
pie, both discovered the integral calcu-
lus ; the two men were therefore of equal
genius in this req>eot Newton, however,
was first to publish, and consequently
desiures to be mentioned first in eonneo-
tion with this branch of mathematics.
Napier is still the discoverer of loga-
rithms, although the Swiss, Bfirgi, wiado
the same discovery at almost the —

500

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

time, and pnblidied bis results six years
after Napier.

The second cardinal point is this:
From the nature of the circumstances,
the burden of proof rested squarely on
Koenig. He made the attack. Mau-
pertuis could not by any conceivable
form of logic disprove his positive asser-
tion. To do so -would be to prove a nega-
tive. Consequently, Maupertuis had
every right to demand some evidence
aside from Koenig’s unsupported word.
Sven though Koenig’s chief -witness had
so completely lost his head, it still rested
entirely with Koenig to refrain, or not,
from an undertaking which profoundly
affected the lives of all concerned, and
did irreparable damage to Maupertuis’s
name.

Six months after the formal demand
of the academy was made, no satisfactory
reply had been received from Koenig.
The academy then published a formal
Expoti of the affair, signed by all the
officers (except llaupertuis) and other
members. Koenig was accused of an un-
just attack upon Maupertuis ’s reputation,
and it was declared manifest that the
copy bad been ’’forged.” Koenig re-
signed voluntarily from the academy.

It may appear that the word ’’forged”
was too strong. It has since led to the
greatest confusion, and to make matters
worse Maupertuis stressed the fact that
the copy of the letter sent to him by
Koenig did not agsee, in an essential
point, with the copy presented to, the
academy. As it tamed out, this hhs so
beclouded the issue in later years as actu-
ally to injure Maupertuis’s cause.

Any one who has followed the argu-
ment thtis for will recognise that Koenig
was not charged with altering an original
document or imitating another’s hand-
writing. The word ’’forge,” as -well as
the French word from which it is de-
rived, means ”to produce or devise that
which is untrae or not genuine”; liter-
ally, to fabricate in a forge, b this

sense, whetiier justly or not, Koen% was
accused of having forged the copy of the
Leibnits letter. It must be evident, how-
ever, that even if the copy were genuine,
no man of judgment, or -with a sense of
justice, would have made use of it, in the
circumstances.

The facts so far related are eamly
proved. There are in existence in the
United States at least a dozen different
volumes, printed at the time, which give
the letters which were exdumged, and
the arguments on both sides.

Nevertheless, another va«on of this
story has come down through two cen-
turies — a version which owes its origin
to Voltaire, and may be called the poet-
philosopher version. Thomas Oarlyle, in
his strange and wonderful ’’Life of Fred-
erick the Great,” added his own unique
seal to this account of the affair. In
modem times, indeed as late as 1986,
Alfred Noyes has given us once again the
poet-philosopher version. In his ’'’Vol-
taire,” he -writes:

The yonager philoMphar, Koenig . . . thoai^
that llenportnie was mietahen. The priaeiple
waa untrue, he said, and the idea was not new.
Leibnits had diseuii^ it in a letter of wddeh
he bad a eopj.

Maupertuis, who really doea seeat to have de-
veloped a more tiian PrusaiaB arroganee, de-
termined to emsh the younger man out of
ezistenee. ... He summoned the neadamieiana
whose salaries were paid by Uaa. He told them
that Koenig had forged a letter by LMbnita;
and on the strength of Ua presidantial position
he induced them forthwith to deprive Koenig of
his membership of tho Aeadanty. ... At this
moment Voltaire quiet^ lifted his hand and
made his own first nmve. He began by publish-
ing a quiet and eourtedus letter la dsfense of
Koenig, slmpfy but very elaaify deaeribtag ^
aet of deapotie injnstiee eossatittad by Moupar-
tnis, and at the saam time daf^y priakiag tiw
babble of his great discovery.

It is, of course, impossible to reeoneile
an account such as this with the one jme-
vioualy given. However, we may dismiso
with a smile the closing remnrk about
’’deftly pricking the bubble of his great
discovery.” Alfred Noyes, poet, «aa

THE PEINCIPLB OF LEAST ACTION

hardly be expected to know much about
two*hiindred yeara of scientific history,
of which most scientists are ignorant. It
is difficult, however, to understand why
two such cardinal points in favor of
Maupertuis as we mentioned earlier
escaped his attention — ^two points which,
together, make his cause futile and his
logic worthless.

Voltaire’s letter was answered by a
letter from Frederick, himself, in defense
of Maupertuis. Then, in 1752, Mauper-
tuis published his “Lettres” which did
not pertain to this quarrel, although
there is a reference to it. The Letters
were, rather, a collection of various scien-
tific studies intermingled with highly
imaginative speculations which were
written, perhaps, somewhat in the spirit
of H. G. Wells. Some of his ideas have
since been brilliantly confirmed; others
verged on the absurd. This gave Vol-
taire his great chance, and he was quick
to seise it In the same year, he pub-
lished what Noyes calls “the most devas-
tating satire of the century” — ^the “Dia-
tribe of Doctor Akakia.”

Macaulay has said that “of all the in-
telleotual weapons which have ever been
wielded by man, the most terrible was the
mockery of Voltaire.” A perusal of
“Doctor Akakia” bears witness to that
fact The full force of this terrible
power was directed upon Maupertuis in
an unmerciful and unscrupulous deluge
of irony.

One of the consequences of “Doctor
Akakia” was that Voltaire broke with
Frederick and left the court of Berlin,
never to return.

There are certain facts which lead one
to believe that the much-disputed Leib-
nits letter may, indeed, have bemi au-
thentic. Leibnits was familiar with ^e
idea of action, as Maupertuis readily
acknowledged. Even at that time, the
term “action” was criticised as iMing
wholly inadequate, and Maupertuis wrote
“that having found this word alrew!^

established by Leibnits and by W<dlf
... I have not wished to chi^e the
term.” According to D’Alembert,'it was
Wolff who first conceived of action.

Leibnits apparently made no use of
the idea of action, unless it was in an
attempt to develop a theory of the con-
servation of action, similar to the conser-
vation of energy. Many people have
tried to prove t^t he conceived of the
idea of least action. None of them sup-
port this by actual reference to any of his
published works or recognised letters.
Within the last few years a French phi-
losopher, after profound study, has come
to the conclusion that even if Leibnits
did not actually write the letter pre-
sented by Koenig, it was at any rate
exactly the kind of a letter he would have
written. Henceforth, he refers to this
letter as a proved fact. Few of us, how-
ever, would be willing to go to this ex-
treme. It seems certain that if Leibnits
did write the Koenig letter he must later
have abandoned the idea of least action
as unsound.

There is one question conceming this
subject which has never yet been ade-
quately answered. What motives led
Voltaire to turn with such fury oa a
friend he had known intimatdy for
twenty years T The violence of his attack
seems out of proportion even for the
crime of which Maupertuis was conceived
guilty. Indeed, Voltaire’s ridicule did
not entirely cease after the death of
Maupertuis, in 1759.

Koenig seems to have been a man of
sineerily^ and high purpose. Voltaire’s
fame is founded on his love of truth and
courage in defense of truth. Carlyle’s
passion for honesty and justice is the kqr
to his whole character. Noyes has an
equal regard for the same everlasting
principles. Were they not all, however,
deceived into thinking that Maupertuis’s
discovery was an idiotic piece of n<m-
sense, and hence that he was not enUtled
to the amenities of civilised warfaret

THE

least mildly BoriKriMd mint be an

We tozn now to a conaideratiim of
more recent times. The present attitade
toward Msupertois, however, can be
understood only in the light of this
ancient quarrel with Koenig. Voltaire's
irony has been more domiiuuit than
the supposedly clear and dispassionate
record of the scientific historian. The
scant mention — ^if any — ^which is granted
to Maupertuis usually carries with it a
faint but unmistakable note of scorn.

A favorite accusation which has been
repeated with parrot-like r^^ularity is
that Haupertuis was so engrossed in
metaph 3 sical speculations that no clear
meaning can be attached to his vague
and mist-like conclusions. As a matter
of fact, he was far in advance of most of
his contemporaries in this respect It
would be difScult, for example, to find a
more modem or clearer expression of the
relation between science and metaphysics
than the following words, taken from an
English translation of Maupertuis which
appeared in 1734. They give also a
glimpse of the intellectual pains, long
since forgotten, which accompanied the
startlmg idea of universal attraction :

If bodiaa atiU eontinue to grsTitate towards
eaeh other, why m$,j we not iaTestigato’' the
Effeets of this Qraritation, without diving into
the cause of it. Our whole Business will then
be to enquire whether or no it be true that Bodies
have this Tenden^ towards each other; and if
we And the thing to be a fact, let that eontent
ns for our deductions with respect to the
Phanomena of Nature; aad let us leave it to
sttblimer Philosophers to search into the Cause
of this Tendencir. . . . But some of those who
reject Attraction, look upon it as a Motaphjrsleal
Monster and believe its impossibility so fully
proved that however Nature might seem to favor
it, it were better to acquiesce in total Ignoranee,
than to make use of so absurd a Principle.

With regard to least action, Mauper-
tois makes it perfectly clear that in tbia
case, also, his essential Business is to
enquire whether or no it be true.

E. T. Bell once wrote, with regard to
a certain algebraic cxpressioxi, that any-
one who could look at it and not be at

bram imbecile." In the same way, one
must be a metaphysksal moron not to
recognise the implications of the prinoi-
ple of least action fOr a divine Providenoe
with which science, ofBeially, cannot be
concerned.

Some such argument as this is neces-
sary to excuse the earlier part of this
article where no attempt was made to
escape a metaphysical explanation of
least action, although care was taken not
to ipell nature with a capital "N."

A more serious criticism of Maupertuis
is that even apart from metaphysics, he
had no adequate conception of his own
discovery, and that his applieatioxut of it
were merely trivial. There is, appar-
ently, only one book in Englidi (a trans-
lation from the German) which gives an
account of the three problems which
Maupertuis worked out to illustrate his
principle. We refer to Mach's classical
"Science of Mechanics." It is far bet-
ter, if one can do so, to read Maupertnis's
own words which give in concise, lucid
style his applications of least action to
inelastic impact, elastic impact, and the
principle of the lever.

If Maupertnis’s works are not availaUe,
however, Mach’s book gives a fairly good
outline of these three casea His eoneln-
sions, nevertheless, as to their impor-
tance, and as to the importance of least
action and Maupertnis’s contribution
thereto, are entirely wnmg. They will
ultimately be recognised as the most
glaring imperfections in a book which
betrays unexpected limitations in more
than one respect

To show how far Mach was from graq>-
ing this particular subject, he attempts
to belittle the importance of least aethm
by referring to another juinciple of me-
chanics which, is eqnalty powerihd;
namdy, Hamilton’s ~ prine^tle. T^
principle well deserves to be>ealled i^Eter
the great Irish mathematician, but it is

* t

THE PBINCIPLai50P LEAST ACTION 503

an action*' principle. ‘‘Hamilton ’a
function** has the dimensions: energy
multiplied by time. Hence Mach has
merely shown how the principle of least
action was in later years to be recast into
another and perhaps more significant
form.

It is uncommon to find a modem au-
thor who recognizes the importance of
Maupertuis’s analysis. One of the few
who have done so is Riehttnyer, who
writes in his “Introduction to Modern
Physics** : “Nearly two centuries ago, by
a line of reasoning which would have
done credit to the Greeks, Maupertuis
proposed the law of least action.’*

There seems to be a general impatience
with Maupertuis because he failed to

equal his friend, Euler, as a mathema-
tician and could not compete with men
who came after him, like Laghuige,
Jacobi, and Hamilton. There seems also
to be much present confusion about the
origin of least action. We read of
Euler’s principle of least action; of La-
grange’s; of Hamilton’s; and — ^perhaps
the very latest — of Fermat *'s principle of
least action. Fortunately they are all
the same. There is only one, a^ that is
the one of which Maupertuis wrote :

There in a principle truly univenal, from whkdi
are derived the laws which control the movement
of elastic and inelastic bodies, light, and all cor-
poreal substances; it is that in all the changes
which occur in the universe . . . that which ia
called the quantity action’’ is always the least
possible amount.

THE ANOPHELES GAMBIAE MOSQUITO IN BRAZIL

This dreaded malaria -carrying insect, a native
of Africa, was first discovered in Natal in 1930
by a member of the staff of the Foundation.
Apparently it had come in an airplane or on one
of the fast French destroyers which at that time
were serving the French air line between Dakar
in West Africa and Natal in Brasil. The alarm-
ing spread of this African scourge in north^
eastern Brasil and the virulent character of the
malaria which it produced resulted in a system-
atic campaign carried on by the personnel of the
Foundation in collaboration with the Brazilian
Government. Dr. Fred L. Soper, representative
of the Foundation in Brasil, has been in charge
of the direction and administration of the offen-
sive, and a staff of over two thousand doctors,
technicians, scouts, inspectors, guards and labor-
eri have been enlisted in the battle.

A year ago we reported that the gambiae had
been puehed back to its central strongholds in
the main river volleys and on the narrow coastal
shelf of northeastern Brasil— an area of perhaps
twelve thousand square miles* Around ihis area
a line of fumigation posts was erected to kMp
the mosquito frdm breaking through into:new
territoiy, and a concerted advance was begun
to harrow ftill further the boundaries of its
dMaln. weiq^ns employed were Paris

green for potential breeding places and spray
inseoticides for thh ifmigation of aU buildings.

This intensive eampaign‘ in 1940 had dramatic

results. During the critical wet season the
gambiae was pushed back on all sides, so that
by the beginning of the dry season it had been
practically restricted to the lower Jaguaiibe
Valley. This made possible the concentration
in this area of a large number of workers for
tbo final onslaught beginning in July. It can
now be reported that no larvae or adults of
gambiae have been found in the lower Jaguaribe
VaUey since the first week in September. A
small addUional focus lying some sixty kilo-
meters beyond the known infested area was dis-
covered in October, but it yielded readily to
attack and was apparently clean by the middle
of November. I^o evidence of gambiae in Brasil
was found during the last 47 ^ys of 1940*
Those directing the campaign no longer con-
sider it rash to speai of the eradiektimi of
gambiae from Brasil, although it must be ire-
membored that the struggle will not be won
until the last f ertiUied female gambiae on this
side of the Atlantic is desired. In any ease,
no matter how many isolated foci may yet be
uneovei^ the crifical^phSee of this i^unediate
campaign seems to^ be qvCr* Certain m^ping-iq^
operations remain^ to be done as the search is
eonl^uCd' for infested areas* The number and
extent of these areas should become rapidly
apparent with the onset of the rainy season
early in 1941.— f he iloebe/eller Pp«mdotioa Be*
pofi for 1$40,

°6SNjAMm BD8H

vac raST UAN in AMUBICA to scab tbs TITOB PBOnUMB or OHBHIBTBT.

SCIENCE AT AMERICA’S FIRST UNIVERSITY

By COBNBLL MARCH DOWLIN

ASSISTANT PKOPESBOB OT XMOUBB, UNIVXBBITT OT PENNBYIiTAinA

The campus of the University of Penn-
sylvania, on which was held a goodly por-
tion of the sessions of the ninety-third
annual meeting of the Ameri(»in Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Science, is
not notable for its spaciousness. And it
seemed especially crowded during a week
of September, 1940, when some 250
scholars, learned in the arts, the sciences,
the humanities, came from all parts of the
world, including embattled Europe, to
address nearly 10,000 fellow guests, who
were there to help celebrate the two-hun-
dredth anniversary of the founding of
the university.

Yet it is not a small campus. All told,
the university property in West Phila-
delphia consists of 112 acres; but some
130 buildings have been erected on the
grounds, and they elbow each other
closely and adjacent private homes and
commenual property. Besides, the build-
ings are not evenly distributed : included
in ^e campus are eight playing fields, a
huge stadium and two large gymnasiums
— all devoted to the more or less scientific
pursuit of athleticism — and the well-
known Botanical Gardens, the most at-
tractive portion of the grounds Beyond
the city limits, the university has more
breathing space. In Chestnut Hill, on
the northern boundarira of Philadelphia,
is the Morris Arboretum, site of a Gradu-
ate School of Botany ; to the west, along
the West Chester Pike, is the Fldwer Ob-
servatory ; f arOier west, ai Talley Forge,
are two |arms, the site of h proposed
experimental college of liberal arts ; antd
northeast, near the Ddaware Biver, are
farms on adiich are carried on the addv-
ities of a Schof^ of Animal Pathol<^
and important investigationB (eiqp4eially
in embryology) of the Wistar Institute
of Anatomy and Biology.

But into any corner of the present
campus might be tucked the acre of
ground and the single building at Fourth
and Arch streets t^t served as the first
home of the University of Pennsylvania.
It was here, in 1740, that the pious people
of Philadelphia, especially those inter-
ested in the less conservative aspects of
religion, erected a large building for the
meetings of the celebrated Wesleyan
evangelist, George Whitefield, whose wel-
come in the established churches was
not so warm as it had been on his ar-
rival in Philadelphia in 1739. The build-
ing was the largest in the city, actually
seventy feet by one hundred.' Funds to
erect it were raised by means of a double-
barreled appeal; the “chapel” would
serve for religious meetings and also as a
charity school. And it is because of the
foundation of this school that the univer-
sity has selected 1740 as the date of its
own founding.

Although a board of trustees was or-
ganised and some endowment was col-
lected, the charity school languished,
and the next important educational step
in Philadelphia was the publication in
1749 of Benjamin Franklin’s pamphlet,
“Proposals Relating to the Education of
Youth in Pensilvania. ” This pamphlet
was- not a hasty effusion, for Franklin
since 1743 had had definite ideas concern-
ing education, and had discussed tiiem
with his associates. In their essence, his
proposals for an imadehiy were extremely
practical. A variety of subjects, ranging
f^m history, government and ethics to
law, mercantile practices and even the
mechanic arte was to be taught, prin-

I A pietare of the llrat eampu at al^at the
year 1770 appeared la the Beeember, 1040, krae
of the BouNTinp MONTatT. The baUding with
the belfly was the Whttefleld meeting' house;
the other a dormitory eieeted in 1708.

506

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THE OLD COLLEGE HALL OCCUPIED BY THE UN1VEB8ITY IN 1829

AND UNTIL TBK UNIVEBBITY WAS IfOVKD TO ITS FMBKNT BITE IN 1872.

cipally in English. He did include the
classics, but this, as he later pointed out,
was to conciliate prominent citizens whose
educational ideas were more conserva-
tive. The result was the formation of a
board of trustees that took over the assets

— and the liabilities— of the charity
school, and at once started to select a
faculty, which began instruction in 1751
in the remodded chapel at Fourth and
Arch streets. The institution was only
an academy, however, and the trustees
had more ambitious notions. Hardly had
it begun to function fully before a n^
charter was granted, in 1755, incorporat-
ing “The Trustees of the College, Acad-
emy, and Charitable School of Philadel-
phia in the Province of Pennsylvania.”

The next step in the organization of
the Univeristy of Pennsylvania, at least
as far as its name is concerned, was far
from happy for the young institution.
Under its first provost, the Beverend
William Smith, the college became closely
identified, first during the last years be-
fore the Revolution, with the Proprietary
party, and then, during the Revolution,

with the Tories^ As a result, in 1779 the
Assembly dissolved the old board of
trustees and set up another, which was
to administer the college under a new
name, “The University of the State of
Pennsylvania,” a proper title because a
medical school had been added in 1765.
The new trustees, of course, were given
possession of all the college property.
The action was strongly tinged with
politics, and similarly political was the
act of the Assembly in 1789, when con-
servatives had regained power, to r^tore
the old trustees! to their property and
privileges. The act of 1789 reestablished
the college, but it did not extinguish the

* Ou Tsmilt of the flrat provost’s political ac-
tivities was his imprisoniaent in the old jail at
Third and Market streets in 1768 for an alleged
libel OB the provlneial Assembly. From Feb-
maty to April of that year be conditeted classes
in the jaiL For this and other details of the
history and organiuHon of the University of
Fenasylyania, the reader is referred to “A Bis-
toiy of the University of. Pennsylvania,” by E.
P. CSwyney, University of Pennsylvania Press,
1940; and “The University of Pennsylvania To-
day,” U. M. Dondin, ed.. University of Penn-
sylvania Press, 1940.

SCIENCE AT AMERICANS FIRST UNIVERSITY

507

university; and althoui^h Philadelphia
could harclly support one institution of
higher education, the two continued to
function concurrently, the college at
Fourth and Arch streets, the ousted uni-
versity in the building of the American
Philosophical Society at Independence
Square. But in 1791 reason prevailed,
and under a new charter the two united
to become the University of Pennsyl-
vania.

The University of Pennsylvania, which
thus became America’s first educational
institution to be called a university,
continued at the Fourth and Arch
streets location, with some outlying
dependencies for the Medical School,
until 1802, when, forced out by the
encroachments of business establish-
ments, it moved to Ninth and Chestnut
streets. Its quarters here were the
‘^Presidential Mansion,” a handsome
building erected for the use of the Presi-
dent of the United States in the 1790’s,
when it was expected that the Federal
Government would remain permanently
in Philadelphia. This building, pur-

chased along with a number of adjoining
lots, served as the home of the university
until 1829, when it was razed and two
buildings, College Hall and Medical
Hall, both identical in external appe^-
anee and of a pleasing Georgian style,
took its place.

By 1870 the Ninth Street location also
had become unsatisfactory, and in 1872,
following long negotiations with the city
for the purchase of ground in West
Philadelphia close to the west bank of
the Schuylkill River, the College of Lib-
eral Arts moved into a new College Hall.
In 1874 the Medical School moved into
a new Medical Hall just west of College
Hall and also enjoyed the use of the
University Hospital, which likewise was
erected in 1874. These three buildings,
along with a fourth, put up in 1878 to
accommodate the Dental School founded
in that year, formed the nucleus from
which the present extensive plant of the
University of Pennsylvania has grown.

But of greater general interest than
such legalistic matters as corporate ori-
gins, organization and names, and the

, , ■ , ■ ■

OOLtfcGB HALI4, THE FIKST BUILDING ON THE PRESENT CAMPUS
ctmtimm in 1872 . in the fobsqsound is mt botlb btatuk of men jaxin feankun, whxcr

OKOX srooo ESFOBB THE POST OFFICE AT KINTR AND CHESTNUT ST|tXXT8, SITE OF THE SECOND

CAMPUS OF THE UmVEESITT.

508

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

< * PKESIDENTlAIi MANSION/' AT NINTH AND CHESTITOT STREETS

AND OTHER BUILDINGS OCCUPIED BY THE UNIVBB8ITY OP PENNSYLVANIA FROM 1806-1829.

early, inadequate physical equipment, is vote the rest of his life to scientific ex-
the nature of the institution to which periment. Closely associated with him
Benjamin Franklin in the middle of the in his investii^ations were Thomas Hop-
eighteenth century lent his influence if kinson and Philip Syng, both of whom
not his name. It will be recalled that in were members of the original board of
1748, the year before be began actively trustees set up in 1749. A third asso-
to promote the academy, Franklin had ciate was Bbenezer Kinnersley, who in;
retired from business, intending to de- 1753 succeeded the first English ma^f

MEDICAL HALL" OCCUPIED BY UNIVEB8XTY MEDICAL SCHOOL, 1829-1874

IT ACOOHltODATBD AS KANT AS FIVE RUmiED BTUIKSMTS, "OOUMB StALt" WRICK ABJOIKtD

"KBDIOAL HALL," RObfiSD THE OOLLBOR OF UttBRAL AITS.

SCIENCE AT AMERICANS FIRST UNIVERSITY

509

on the faculty, one David Dove, whose
terrible temper figures large in the early
annals of education in Philadelphia.

Another name to be mentioned espe-
cially in connection with the scientific
atmosphere that prevailed from the be-
ginning is that of Dr. William Smith,
the stormy first provost. Appointed in
1754 after a long correspondence with
Franklin, Dr. Smith became provost in
1755, when the college was established,
succeeding the deceased Mr. David Mar-
tin, who as head of the academy bore
the title of Rector. Provost Smith was
engaged to teach logic, rhetoric and na-

accomplishments as a mathematician,
physicist and astronomer are too numer-
ous to be recorded here.

Nor should it be thought that this in-
terest in the physical sciences existed
principally in the eighteenth centui^jr.
During the earlier part of the last cen-
tury a long list of distinguished men
held the chair of natural philosophy.
Among these were the two Robert Patter-
sons and John Fries Frazer, the latter a
founder and the first president of the
Academy of Natural Sciences, an organi-
zation intimately associated with the
founding in 1848 of the American Asso-

THE EVANS INSTITUTE AND SCHOOL OF DENTISTRY, FOUNDED IN 1878

tural and moral philosophy, but natural
philosophy was his especial interest. A
capable mathematician and astronomer,
he ably assisted David . Bittenhouse dur-
ing the observation of the transit of
Venus in 1769, when the American as-
tronomers placed the earth 20 per cent,
farther from the sun by finding the hori-
zontal parallax to be 8.6 seconds. And
the second provost, the Reverend John
Ewing, had similar talents, especially in
engineering. He was very active in
establishing state boundaries and in lay-
ing out highways. Still another name
is that of David Bittenhouse, professor
of astronomy and long a trustee, whose

ciation for the Advancemwt of Science.
Worthy of especial mention is a grand-
son of Benjamin Franklin, Alexander
Dallas Bache, an F.R.S. and a volumi-
nous writer on scientific subjects. He
was a president of the American Associa*
tion for the Advancement of Science*

8 other members of t^e faculty who ha^e been
president of the association are: George F.
Barker, 1879 ; J. Peter Lesley, 1884 Daniel G.
Brinton, 1894 ; Edward D. Cope, 1896 ; J.
McKeen Cattell, 1924. The last named was ap-
pointed to the professorship of psychology at
tho University of Pennsylvania (the first Chair
in tho world to boar that name) in 1888, but
resigned in 1891 to accept the chair at Colum-
bia. *

510

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

JOHN MOBOAN

PBOraSBOB OF THE THEOET AND PEACTICE OF PKTSlOX IN THE PIEET HEDIOAL BCBOOl IN AHBUCA.
THE PICTOBE IB A CONTBHPOBAEY POEnAIT BY ANOELA KAVPUAN, IT BANOB IN THE UBBABY OP

THE SCHOOL OP MEDICINE OP THE UNIVBBSITY OP PBNN8Y1.VAKIA. ,

SCIENCE AT AMERICANS FIRST UNIVERSITY

511

and of the National Academy of Sci-
ences, and also was prominent in the
work of the Smithsonian Institution, the
United States Coastal Survey and the
American Philosophical Society.

Although these men taught chemistry
as well as physics, chemistryj during the
first century of the university’s history
quite naturally is more particularly as-
sociated with holders of the professor-
ship of chemistry, the first chair exclu-
sively devoted to that science to be estab-
lished in America. This chair was set
up in 1769, and its first incumbent was
Benjamin Rush, M.D., author of the
first chemistry text-book published in
America and a man famous especially
for his work during the yellow fever epi-
demics in Philadelphia, but also for a
variety of medical interests that would
astonish a modern specialist. Although
Bush was a member of the medical fac-
ulty, not all his sucicessors were primar-
ily interested in the medical aspectts of
chemistry. Notable among these was
Robert Hare, inventor of the oxyhydro-
gen blowtorch and one of the first to
build and operate an electric furnace.

Mention of Benjamin Rush naturally
suggests a statement, which must be all
too shorty concerning the first medical
school to be established in America. In
1765, the trustees appointed Dr. John
Morgan and Dr. William Shippen, Jr.,
as the first members of a faculty of medi-
cine. Other appointments followed im-
mediately, and the School of Medicine,
of which this was the beginning, soon
was attracting students from all Englisli-
speaking North America and even from
Europe. Indeed, for nearly a century,
the College of Liberal Arts remained
essentially a local institution, largely be-
cause it was a strictly secular school
(which may have contributed to the sci-
entific atmosphere) without the support
in students and funds that affiliation
with a religious denomination would
have provided. Its enrolment until the
latter half of the last century rarely ex-
ceeded one hundred, while the medical

students usually were four or five times
that number. Space will not permit a
recital of the accomplishments of the
eai'ly School of Medicine, but mention
should be made not only of Morgan,
Shippen and Rush, but of Samuel P.
Griffitts, founder of the United States
Pharmacopoeia; Caspar Wistar, author
of America’s first hook on anatomy; and
of Philip Syng Physick, ‘‘father of
American surgery.”

Until modern times, it must be ad-
mitted, the biological sciences as inde-
pendent of medicine received somewhat
scant attention. Although the univer-
sity claims the distinction of having ap-
pointed, in 1789, the first professor of
botany and natural historj’ in the United
States (Benjamin Smith Barton, pioneer
investigator of American flora), botany
and zoology as independent studies did
not come into their own until 1884, when
a School of Biology (now represented by
the separate departments of botany and
zoology) was founded. It is not the
purpose of the present article to com-
ment on the more recent history of the
University of Pennsylvania, but three
of the principal members of the biologi-
cal faculty were men of such prominence
that they demand attention. They were
Joseph Leidy, Edward Drinker Cope and
John A. Ryder, men whose work m com-
parative anatomy, American paleontol-
ogy and embryology fills a prominent
place in the records of the American As-
sociation for the Advancement of Sci-
ence^ or more particularly in those of the
Academy of Natural Sciences.

It is also to be regretted that something
can not be said of other modem develop-
ments such as the Towne Scientific
School, the Moore .School of Electrical
Engineering, the Architectural School
alid the School of Fine Arts, the Whar-
ton School of Finance and Commerce,
the College of Liberal Arts for Women,
the School of Education, the Graduate
School, the Graduate School of Medicine,
the Veterinary, School, the University
Press and the Vniverrity Museum, the

512

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THE MALONEY CLINIC

ONK OF TBB LARGE HOSPITAL BUILDINGS OF THE
UNIVERSITY. IT HOUSES A NUMBER OF THE
DIVISIONS OF THE SCHOOL OF MEDICINE, INCLUD-
ING THE JOHNSON FOUNDATION FOB RESEARCH IN

MEDICAL PHYSIOS.

THE ^‘PROVOST'S TOWER'^

ONE OF THE DORMITORY BUILDINGS.

latter being a division of the university
known and active in the farthest reaches
of the world. All the schools or depart-
ments just listed have been established
since 1876, but in many cases their roots
go back to far beyond that date. An-
other important school not mentioned
heretofore is the Law School, the history
of which begins in 1790, when the trus-
tees established the first professorship of
law in America.

Slight though those roots may have
been in the middle of the eighteenth cen-
tury, when a handful of students was
taught by less than a handful of profes-
sors, they have grown as the United
States has grown, until to-day upwards
of 17,000 students receive instruction in
almost every branch of learning from a
faculty of nearly 2,000 members.

The increase in faculty and students
has been accompanied by the increase in
physical equipment that already has
been noted; but the increase in equip-
ment has not been a change merely in
quantity. If subjects and methods of
instruction had remained the same dur-
ing 200 years, classrooms and lecture-
rooms similar to those of the old acad-
emy at Fourth and Arch streets, but
more numerous, would serve to-day.
Subjects and methods have changed,
however. With the growth of the na-
tion, contributing to that growth and
also resulting from it, has come the in-
creased attention paid to the sciences
and changes in the equipment needed in
education and research.

To cite one example, Theophilus Grew,
the first professor of mathematics, doubt-
less employed few aids other than pencil
and paper, protractor and dividers. At
present the building of the Moore School
of Electrical Engineering contains a
sixty-ton apparatus known as a differ-
ential analyser, a complex mechanism
of motors, gears, cams and pantographs.
Since it was erected in 1935, this machine

SCIENCE AT AMERICANS FIRST UNIVERSITY

513

has been solving differential equations,
providing in one hour a solution that
otherwise might require a week of con-
centrated effort or perhaps could not be
obtained at all.

Or to cite another example, in 1749
Benjamin Franklin rigged up two large
Leyden jars with which he intended to
kill his Christmas turkey, but which very
nearly killed him.^ The apparatus for
experiments in natural philosophy in the
old college was similar, though prob-
ably less powerful, consisting of Leyden
jars, electrostatic generators and vacuum
pumps. But to-day a part of the equip-
ment of the Department of Physics is a
Van de Qraaf generator, or ^‘atom
smasher,^’ which in effect is a Leyden
jar and electrostatic generator capable
of creating a charge up to five million
volts; and a sixty-inch cyclotron which
will develop much greater energy is
about to be constructed for the Depart-
ment of Radiology in the School of Medi-
cine. Such a force, if properly directed,
might well alter the course of history —
and for the better, if American scientific
workers have their way.

Benjamin Franklin and the Social

Sciences

To the average layman, the American
Association for the Advancement of Sci-
ence is an organization concerned with
the physical sciences or possibly with
the biological sciences as well. And yet
the association has standing committees
on history, education, the social and eco-
nomic sciences and even (though not at
present) on manufactures and com-
merce. Because of this interest in the
social sciences and also because the mat-
ter has never been explored, it seems ap-
propriate to outline here the influence of
Benjamin Franklin on teaching and re-

*CarI Van Doren, ‘^Benjamin Franklin ''
(New Yorki The Viking Prim, 1988), pp. 161-
62. "

ROBERT HARE

PBOFEBROB OF CHEMISTRY AT THE HNIVXRSITY OF
PENNSYLVANIA, WHO INVENTED THE OXYHY-
DROOEN BLOWTORCH.

THE ENGINEERINO BUILDING

FROM THE EAST. HOME OF THE TOWNS SCIEN-
TIFIC SCHOOL, AND ERECTED IN 1904.

514

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

JOSEPH WHARTON
rouNOJSK or thk wbakton school,

HENRY REED

WHO AS ASBXSTAHT PftOFBSSOE OF PHILOSOPHY
AKD LATER AS PROFESSOR OF ENOUSH LITRRATTJRE
TAITOHT NOT ONLY ENGLISH AND PHILOSOPHY BUT
ALSO POLITICAL ECONOMY. HE WAS ONE OF THE
FIRST TEACHERS OF THE SOCIAL SCIENCES IN
AMERICA, BUT HE WAS BEST KNOWN FOR HIS LEC-
TURES ON LITRRATURB, BEING THE FRIEND OF
WORDSWORTH AND THACKERAY.

search in the social sciences in the United
States as that influence showed itself in
the curriculum at the University of
Pennsylvania. Oddly enough that influ-
ence revealed itself for approximately
130 years in the teaching of English.

Franklin’s ‘‘Proposals” of 1749 were
largely conc.enied with the teaching of
English as a tool useful in later life.
The pamphlet makes it clear that the
students’ reading was not to be for the
purpose of learning the beauties of lit-
erature but for cultivating a clear and
concise style which, in either writing or
speaking, would be serviceable to the
good citizen. ‘‘To form their Stile,” he
says, ‘‘they should be put on Writing
Letters to each other, making Abstracts
of what they read ; or writing the same
Things in their own Words ;”and in an-
other place : “Indeed the general natural
Tendency of Reading good History,
must be, to fix in the Minds of Tonth
deep impressions of the Beauty and Use-
fulness of Virtue of aU Kinds, Publick
Spirit, Fortitude, &c.” Furthermore,
History will show the wonderful Ef-
fects of Oratory, in governing, turning
and leading great Bodies of Mankind,”
and “Modern Political Oratory being
chiefly performed by the Pen and Press,
its Advantages over the Antient in some
respects are to be shown.” Of especial
significance, as will shortly appear, is
the statement: ^^Chotius^ Puffendorff,
and some other Writers of the same
Kind, may be used on these Occasions to
decide their Disputes.”

In fact Franklin considers that nearly
the entire curriculum, through the teach-
ing of English by means of reading, can
be looked on as a part of the instruction
in English, for be asks, “But if History
be made a constant part of their Bead-
ing . . . may not almost all Kinds of
useful Knowledge be that Way intro-
duc’d to advantage* and with Pleasure
to the Student!” Then follows a long
list of useful subjects* beginning with
geography and ending with “The His-

SCIENCE AT AMERICA’S FIRST UNIVERSITY 515

tory of Commerce, of the Invention of
Arts, Rifle of Manufacturefl, Progress of
Trade, Change of Seats, with the Rea-
sons, Causes, &c.”

It might be argued, very reasonably,
that Franklin himself did not associate

almost all kinds of useful knowledge”
with the teaching of English; that he
had merely passed with a hasty transi-
tion from the reading that would improve
the style of English composition to the
reading of history, political economy,
international law and even geography.

gentlemen taught is of interest to us
here.

The courses given by the assistant pro-
fessor of moral philosophy are as fol-
lows: to the Freshmen, ” Cicero’s Ora-
tions. English Grammar reviewed.
Themes. Roman and Grecian .Antiqui-
ties. English Composition. Declama-
tion;” to the Sophomores, “History and
Geography, ancient and modem. Rhet-
oric. Criticism. Elocution. English
Composition. Declamation;” to the
Juniors, “Logic. General Grammar.

LOGAN HALL, OCCUPIED BY THE WHARTON SCHOOL, POUNDED 1881

But let us turn to the university cata-
logues to see what they reveal concern-
ing Franklin ’s views as actually put into
effect. In the catalogue for the aca-
demic year 1828-^29, the oldest in the
University Library, we find the complete
curriculum, arranged according to the
professors who taught the courses. There
is a professor of mathematics, of lan-
guages, of natural philosophy, a pro-
fessor of moral ^philosophy (the pro-
vost), and an assistant professor of
moral philosophy. What the latter two

Moral Philosophy. English Composi-
tion. Forensic discussion.” tn the
Senior year the provost took over and
taught: “Evidences of Natural and Re-
vealed Religion. Metaphysics. Natural
and Political Law. Elocution. Compo-
sition. Forensic discussions. ’

By itself this strange medley do^ not
s The catalogue assigiu the Junior course to
the profeesor of moral philosophy and the
Senior course to the provost, who wore the same
person. Undoubtedly the assistant professor was
in charge during the Junior year, as is stated in
succeeding catalogues.

516

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

HOUSTON HALL, THE PIHHT “STUDENT UNION” BUILDING IN AMEBICA

THE POBBOOUET OP THE UNIVEB8ITY MUSEUM COMPLETED IN 18W
rntBT tJMIT or TBI BXTEHBITIC PLAMT HOUSIITO the OOLIiBOnONB W AECHEOUWS AKD ETHHOIOOY.

SCIENCE AT AMERICANS FIRST UNIVERSITY

517

indicate that English courses were the sions.” It is interesting to observe also
vehicle for instruction in subjects rang- that the entrance requirements in En-
ing from geography to history and politi- glish consisted of ^ ^ The elements of En-
cal science ; rather, perhaps, that a small glish grammar and of modem geog-
student body and a small faculty obliged raphy.” And it is likewise worth
the philosophy professors to teach every- noting that the assistant professor of
thing that did not fall to the professors moral philosophy, now the famous Henry
of languages, mathematics, or natural Reed, is stated to have charge of the De-
philosophy. partment of English Literature, but the

But if we turn to the catalogue for curriculum gives no hint of instruction
1832--33, we And that a change has taken in English literature save that ** Read-
place. The courses, if they can be called ings in Prose and Poetry’’ has been

A COBNEB OF THE DOBMITOBIES OF THE UNrVEBSITY OF PBNNSYLV^ANIA

that, are ess^tially the aame. However, added to the “English” course given to
instead of being listed by professors, Freshmen. Certainly it would seem that
they are labeled Mathematics, Classics, the university authorities in the 1830 ’s
English, etc., and the interesting point were aware of Franklin’s linking,
to observe is that the courses assigned in through reading, of the teaching of En*.
the earlier catalogue to €hie professbr and glish and of such subjects as geography
assistant professor of moral philosophy iand .international law, but whether it
are now classified as English; for in^ was &e result of trMition or a return to
stance, the provost’s course for Senion ' Franklin ’a. “Proposals” it is impossible
appears as: “English. , Evidencies of tossyliere.

Natural and Revealed Religion. Intel- The question may next arise, how long
lectual Philosophy. Law of Nations and did this association of the teaching of
Political Law, (Kent’s Commentaries.) history, political science and similar sub-
English composition. Forensic discus- jeets with English continue. Before an-

518

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

A POBTION OP THE BOTAXIOAL OABDEN8 OP THE UNIVBB8ITT

THE BUILDING TO THE READ 18 THE ANATOMY WING Of THE MEDICAL LABORATORIES.

SCIENCE AT AMERICANS FIRST UNIVERSITY

519

swerinur it, we will jump to the catalogrue
of 1873-74, in which, as for many years,
English grammar and geography con-
stituted the entrance requirements in
English; and although the curriculum,
after the passage of some thirty years,
has evolved slightly, it is still clearly
recognizable as the same. These are the
“English” courses:

Freshman Class

English . — Freeman Outlines of History and
Lectures, with Lahberton*s Historical Atlas.
Compositions and Declamations.

Bophomore Class

English. — Elements of Rhetoric. Bains BhetoriCf
with Jjectures and Practical Exercises. Earle ^s
Philology of the English Tongue, with Lec-
tures. Composition and Declamations.

Junior Class

English (Required). — Compositions and De-
clamations. Logic. (Atwater,)

English (Elective with Pure Mathematics ), —
Roman History (Student *s Gibbon). His-
torical Lectures.

Senior Class

English (Required). — Guisot^s History of Civili-
zation. Tame*s English Literature. Inter-
national Law (Lectures). Social Science
(Carey and Lectures). Compositions and
Original I)e<slamation8.

English (Eteetivc with Pure Mathematics ). —
Lectures on Modern History, lioctures on
the Relations of English History to English
Literature.

The catalogue does not directly indi-
cate who conducted these courses, but
we can assume that the work was divided
between Provost Charles J. Stills, pro-
fessor of history and English literature ;
John 0. B. McElroy, adjunct professor
of Greek and history (who had once
held Gie title of assistant professor of
rbetorie aiid history) ; and Samuel M,
Clevdand, professor of rhetoric and
oratoiy.

The catalogue for 187^74 was selected
here becanse the . Senior required course
in Ri^liah for that j^r included ‘ ' Social
Scienoe (Carey),"* and because in the
4 H, C* Oarey, * * Principles of Social Science, ’ '
a vole., 1858-59.

following year social science was digni-
fied with the appointment of a profeiSH9or
of social science. This was the Reverend
Robert Ellis Thompson, who since 18.68
had served either as instructor or assis-
tant professor of mathematics. But even
though there was a professor of social
science in 1874-75, the courses in En-
glish remained the same as in the pre-
ceding year, except that Carey ^s book
was omitted from the required Senior
course.^

But by the year 1880-81 a classifica-
tion of courses more in accordance with
our modern conception of a curriculum
appears in the catalogue. Here English
is clearly indicated as the study of com-
position, literature and philology; and
history and social science are separate,
each under its own label. The latter,
which is given only to Seniors, appears
as follows: “Social Science (Required).
— International Law ( Lectures ) .

Thompson’s Social Science and National
Economy,^* In almost every respect the
subjects and the text-books in this cur-
riculum are the same as before; they
have merely been given new labels, and
it is obvious that the new course in social
science is the old required Senior En-
glish course under a new name.

The year 1881 is important for the
University of Pennsylvania, and espe-
cially for the social sciences as taught
there. In March of that year, Joseph
Wharton, a prominent Philadelphia
business man, submitted to the trustees
an elaborate plan for the establishment
of a “School of Finance and Economy”
which he proposed to endow. In pur-
pose, the school bore an astonishing simi-
larity to the academy project^ in
Franklin’s “Proposala” of 1749. The

7 Jt it -possible that Professor Thompson,
while still assistant professor mathematies,
had given all or a part of the Senior epnrse,
instead of one of the other three men. In any
case, however, it is obvious that the inclusion of
** social science,^’ whether Thompson or another
professor introduced it, was in keeping with the
practice that originaUs ultimately in Franklin ’s
^'Proposals.”

520

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

HAMILTON WALK GATEWAY SHOWING THE ZOOLOGY BUILDING

students, well trained in English and cer-
tain other cultural subjects, would learn,
through the study of history, political
economy, law and mercantile practices,
to become useful members of the com-

munity, both as honest and competent
business men and as public servants.
Of course the offer was accepted, and as
a result the first university school de-
voted to the social sciences, in both their

THE HOME OP THE WI8TAR INSTITUTE OP ANATOMY AND BIOIXJOY
AMO vra rAiioca bat oouMmse. n was mown m 1802.

SCIENCE AT AMERICANS FIRST UNIVERSITY

521

theoretical and practical aspects, was
founded.

No radical change, however, in the
instruction already given in the univer-
sity followed. Professor Thompson con-
tinued to be professor of social science,
giving the same course to Seniors in the
College of Liberal Arts. But in the
Wharton School announcement for 1881-
82, this course broadens out into a series
of courses, given only in the Junior and
Senior years, on ‘‘History and Func-
tions of Money”; “Municipal, State,
and National Taxation”; “Industry,
Commerce, and Transportation” ; “Wage
Questions. The Relations of Capital
and Labor”; and “Lectures on Living
Issues,” such as Socialism, Communism,
and free trade and protection — all of
them matters, we may be sure, that Pro-
fessor Thompson had treated in tlie
original course in social science.

Professor Thompson continued to be
the principal teacher in the Wharton
School (his only colleague was an in-
structor in accounting) for but two
years. For reasons that we can not
explore here, he retired from the faculty
of the school and accepted the appoint-
ment to the now vacant chair of history
and English literature once occupied by
Provost Still4, and his work was taken
over by two new appointees, Edmund J.
James, professor of finance and admin-
istration, and Albert S. Bolles, profes-
sor of mercantile law and practice.^

8 It is signiSf ant that a tliird appointment to
the Wharton School faculty in 1883 was that of
John Bach MeMaster, the historian, to a new
chair of American history. The first volume of
his History of the People of the United
States, ’ * appeari^d in that year. Something of
the importance of Bdmund J. James with re*
spect to the social sciences in America is indi-
cated by the following; James, Bdmund Janes,
1855-1925, American economist and educator
(Ph.D., Univ. of Halle), was professor of public

Naturally, changes appear in the Whar-
ton School announcement for the follow-
ing year, 1883-84. The term social sci-
ence is dropped and new, more precise
names are given to the courses: ‘-Po-
litical Economy,” “Political Science,”
“History of Trade, Manufactures and
Commenie,” etc. However, a number
of the text-books remain the same, includ-
ing one by Thompson, and it is evident
that the new professors built on the older
foundations. It is also evident that
these foundations, on which has since
been erected an important school devoted
to the social sciences, reach as deep as to
Franklin’s “Proposals.”

It has often been pointed out that in
his later life Franklin showed some bit-
terness because of the manner in which
the early trustees of what is now the
University of Pennsylvania ignored his
proposals for the teaching of practical
subjects by means of English, and made
the classics a too prominent part of the
curriculum. As far as actual hours of
instruction are concerned, his hostility,
perhaps, was justified, but it is clear,
nevertheless, that his ideas possessed re-
markable vitality. That they continued
to be put into practice long after his
death and even until to-day is revealed
by what seem to us the strange combina-
tions appearing in the university cata-
logues of the last century.

• *»II » l ■ I m < — M...— —

finance and administration at the Wharton
School of Finance and Economy [now Finance
and Commerce 1 Univ. of Pennsylvania, 1883-96,
and a leader of the so-called Pennsylvania school
of economists. He was a founder of the Ameri-
can Economic Association (1885) and of the
American Academy of Political and Social Sci-
ence (1890), becoming the first president of the
latter organization.’^— Eaoj^eCopedia,
New York: 1935. The E<M)noniic Association is
now aifilSated with the 'American Association for
the Advanemnent of Science. Professor Bolles
^rote extensively on the history of American
ihdu^ti^ and finance.

522

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

A HEAVY SMOKE CLOUD FEOM A LABOE PIBEi

PROGRESS IN FOREST FIRE CONTROL

By OBOROE M. OOWBN

rniRF OF FIBF CONTROL, REGION 5, U. B. FOREST SERVICE

The drier the fuel and the better the
draft the easier a fire may start, the
hotter it burns and the more difficult it
is to extinguish. In these respects forest
fires are comparable to fires built in a
fireplace or stove.

Dryness of forest fuels depends on
their moisture content. In turn moisture
content depends on the amount and dis-
tribution of precipitation, the current
relative humidity, evaporation rate and
insolation.^

Local analyses of weather records, par-
ticularly in the West, where a large por-
tion of the national forest area lies, indi-
cate that pre<*ipitation in the forested
areas has not only varied from year to
year but also has exhibited distinct wet
and dry periods or cycles. It appears
that we are now in the driest of these dry
cycles and that the general trend of pre-
cipitation is still downward. In addition
to a general decrease in the annual pre-
cipitation, there seems to be a growing
tendency for the distribution of the rain
which does fall to be less general in ex-
tent as compared with past years. The
records also indicate a general rise in
temperature, slight, perhaps, but enough
to influence fire danger to some extent.

Since precipitation is the basic source
of the water content of forest fuels, it
seems reasonable to expect that deficien-
cies in precipitation will result in drier
forest fuels and consequently greater
seasonal fire danger. The probability of
forest fires covering larger areas and
causing greater losses, of course, in-

1 A disesiidon of the interrelatioiuiliip of the
eeveral phaies of forest Sre eontroi appeared in
Tbs SctSKViFip HoMraLT for July, 1989, pp«
21^, Forest Fyrology,'' by H, T. Gisborne,
eenior siMeulturist of the Forest Berviee.

creases as the fire danger or severity of
fire weather increases.

Despite fire weather conditions increas-
ingly adverse to protection of the forests
from fires, the area burned in the 200
million acres within national forests of
the United States has been reduced con-
sistently decade by decade. Using as
an index the area burned over per mil-
lion acres protected, the figures given in
Table 1 illustrate this progressive reduc-
tion by 5-year periods.

TABLE 1

Average

5*year i»eriod annual

acres burned

iei0<-1014 8,400

103 5-1910 6,300

1920-1924 3,100

1926-1929 3,600

1930-1934 2,400

1935-1939 1,480

1940 only 1,526

A single year of the 1940-1944 period
is not sufficient to identify the continued
success or a failure of fire-control efforts.
However, in 1940 the more unfavorable
fire weather, abnormal number of fires
and concentration of large numbers of
lightning fires in certain areas combined
to produce a situation in which large
losses might ordinarily have been ex-
pected.

During one 13-day period in 1940,
July 11 to 23, the Northern Rocky Moim-
tain Region was showered with over
1,700 lightning fii^. This was ^ice the
number ever previously .experienced in
^any area and three times the total pre-
viously recorded iu the 23,000,000 acres
of the Northern Rooky Mountain Region,
in so short a period. The gigantic task
of assembling men to hftndle such a large

623

524

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

DELIVERY OF SUPPLIB&t

FIKB FIGHTONO 8TJPPL1BB ON |}IMPtB BHBLAP PABA-
CHUTB. THB STBBAMER AJUtOWB OEOUND POIOBS
TO LOCATE THB LOAD BBADILT WHEN IT OEOPS IH

HBAVY OOVBE,’

suppression job, transporting them to
the fires and supplying them with tools,
equipment and subsistenee, althqttgh
seemingly impossible, was done. The
1,700 fires were controlled with a loss o£
but slightly over 7,000 acres.

Except for the steady advance that has
occurred in the various fields of fire con-
trol, the 1940 story might have been quite
different. Losses might have iimreased

I Photographs by courtesy of U* S* Forest
Servleo.

substantially. Instead, the record shows
approximately no increase over the pre-
vious 6-year average. Increased effec-
tiveness in preventing fir€» from start-
ing, in putting them out while still small,
and in promptly controlling those which
escape the initial attacking forces, have
resulted from continuing efforts, through
the years, to improve teclmiques and
devise new methods of meeting the fire
problem.

The old saying “An ounce of preven-
tion is worth a pound of cure” applies
doubly in the ease of man-caused forest
fires. Almost 50 per cent, of the 17,000
fires occurring annually within the na-
tional forests are of this class. Closer
and closer analyses of the causes of indi-
vidual fires and the underlying reasons
behind them have, in many cases, per-
mitted remedial measures to be devised
and applied. Such measures have not
resulted in a reduction of the total num-
ber of man-caused fires, but they have
been effective in materially reducing the
ratio between numbers of fires and the
constantly increasing number of forest
users and visitors.

The total number of fires is much too
large and presents far too great a threat
of loss. To reduce this total to a mini-
mum and hold it down, is the goal of fire
prevention. Education in what consti-
tutes carelessness with fire and how to
be careful has been an important part of
fire prevention work. It is a continuing
job, because of new users and the new
generations who will become future for-
est users.

Positive measures — such as clearing
nultoad, highway and power line rights
of way, use of spark arresters on auto-
motive and stemn equipment, providing
prepared camps for tiie camping public,
mid regulation of the time and place for
burning debris— have had their effect in
bidding the number of .fire starts far
bdow that whkh Iwye occurred if
efforts in ws direction had not
been made. Incmdiary fires, those wil-

PROGRESS IN FOREST FIRE CONTROL

525

fully started with the intention of de-
stroying the forests, are probably most
difficult to prevent. A strenuous attack
on the problem in one area, however,
secured a reduction from well over 200
such fires a year to less than 20.

The orgauiMtion needed to cope with
the fire problem varies with the fire
danger. Current measurement at estab-
lished fire-danger stations of the factors
influencing fire danger, and integration
of these factors, together with fire-
weather forecasts supplied by the U. S.
Weather Bureau, provide a day-to-day
basis for setting up an adequate fire
organization. It has been evident that
this system which permits the adminis-
trator to know in advance what fire
weather may be expected and to take pre-
arranged steps to meet the predicted
danger has helped to reduce the fire
losses.

Success in fighting fire depends on all
those engaged in the job doing the right

thing in the correct manner at the right
time. In order to attain this each man
of the fire control organization must be
trained in the methods and techniques of
controlling forest fires under a variety of
combinations of cover types, topography
and weather conditions ; in proper use of
tools and operation of equipment ; in or-
ganizing and working crews of men effi-
ciently. Added impetus to training
within the past decade has prepared fire
control men to handle their work with
fewer errors and omissions.

As in practically all other fields of
human endeavor there has been the same
constant urge to incre.ase the tempo and
demand more speed in all the stages of
action on a forest fire. Minutes saved
in the early stages of fire can well mean
hours of toil saved. The quicker one of
the larger fires is encircled with a con-
trol line, the smaller the acreage burned,
the loss and cost. Mechanization, which
is growing in fire control work, in many

PABAOHUTS JUMPIBA ON HIS WAT TO A UltE

wont nronc or nu ih mwib viobt roanaocMS.

526

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

eases permits the demanded increase in
speed of either the attack or the control
of the fire.

A larg:e mileag:e of forest-protection
truck trails (roads) built for fire-protec-
tion purposes in the past years by the
Forest Service, the CCC and under emer-
gency programs permits many fire
guards to be motorized and to reach fires
in minutes instead of hours as formerly
when they had to travel by foot or horse.
Portable radio equipment enables the
guard to call back promptly from the
fire in case help; is needed or to let head-
quarters know that he is able to control
the fire alone. Forces of men needed for
suppression work are now transported by
truck or bus over these roads to points as
near the fire as possible. Previously it
was often necessary to hike for hours and
sometimes days to reach the scene of a
fire,

Tractors, with a dirt-moving blade at-
tached in front or dragging large

strongly built plows, have come into
widespread use in building the fire line
on the larger fires, even in the more
mountainous areas. Such equipment
permits a fire line to be built at a much
faster rate than could be accomplished
by man-power. It also reduces the man-
power requirements and is not subject to
progressively decreasing production re-
sulting from fatigue as men alone would
be. As an example, in one national for-
est region in the past two summers, trac-
tors constructed some 400 out of a total
of approximately 1,500 miles of fire line
on all fires which occurred in this area.
Large logs are removed easily from the
fire line or adjacent to it by the tractor.
Formerly logs had to be cut in sections
and rolled out by hand, a slow and labori-
ous process, often impossible in the face
of a fast-running fire.

Perhaps the most spectacular mechani-
zation development in fire control is the
use of the airplane. It has been adapted

PABACHUTB JITMPEBS ANP TWO TYPES OP PARACHUTE
PBOTBCnvs SUIT AKD SPSCXAl# PAXUCaUTB SBOWN OK THX BACK Of T«K HAK TO TBB IdBFV. TSB
PABAOaUTB ON TKZ PBOKT IS OP 8TAKOABO 08SI0K, WOOK AS AK AOSIVIOKAL BAP8TY f AOTOS.

PROGRESS IN FOREST FIRE CONTROL

527

FIRE DANGER BATING STATION, KANIK8IT NATIONAL FOREST

to several distinct fire control purposes.
For about two decades the airplane has
been used after lightning storms or dur-
ing hazy or smoky periods to search for
small fires which may be burning in areas
not visible to established lookout stations.

For several years the airplane has been
used to drop supplies to suppression
forces who are fighting inaccessible fires
or isolated sectors of large fires. By
means of simple inexpensive burlap
parachutes all types of needed supplies,
tools and equipment are dropped to the
fire fighting forces. Short-wave radios
to permit communication between the
forces on the fire are dropped success-
fully and without damage. Even crates
of (^^gs and prepared hot meals are de-
livered to the ground forces. Water is
dropped in 5-gallon tins for thirsty fire
fighters on ridge tops far removed from
springs or streams.

One of the most important advantages
of delivering supplies by airplane is that
it enables the ^rees to bivouac on or near
the fire line where the work is located

rather than to waste from 2 to 4 hours of
a 12-hour shift in mere walking over
rough terrain and climbing to high eleva-
tions from the base fire camp to the dis-
tant fire line. Of equal importance is the
fact that needed numbers of men can be
placed on a fire immediately when de-
livery of essential food and equipment
is assured.

During the fire seasons of 1939 and
1940 a total of over 500,000 pounds of
food, tools and equipment was delivered
by parachute in the western United
States hours and sometimes days before
mules could have delivered these sup-
plies.

When the occasional large fire occurs
on a national forest, there is seldom suffi-
cient overhead personnel locally avail-
able to direct the efforts of the forces
employed for the Job. While the labor-
ers needed to wield the axe and shovel
can be recruited from nearby labor
centers in a relatively short time, the
overhead must be obtained from adjacent
or even distant national forests. It is

TEAqXOB TBAILBUILDBE BUILDING FIBB LINE, LOLO NATIONAL POBB8T

fruitless to place laborers on a fire unless extensive experimentation the technique
trained and experienced men to direct of parachuting, landing in the desired
their efforts accompany them. location and the development of protec-

Speed in getting overhead to the fire tive jumping suits, guidable parachutes
must equal that of recruiting the labor- and featherweight radios for use by the
ers. The answer to this is airplane jiunpers have been developed. A fire
travel. As an example, when last sehson which would require many long hours of
500 laborers additional were required to hiking over mountain trails or through
control a fire, it was possible for the well-nigh impenetrable eover can Ito
laborers to assemble and to reach the fire reached in less than an hour by. a fire
within a few hours to be available for the fighter floating down from a plane. This
next work-shift. The 50 overhead re- saving in time, this increase in speed of
quired to direct these men were not avail- attack.means that one or two parachute
able locally but were transported by jumpers can often reach and control a
plane from national forests as far as 550 fire in a dangerous location while it is
miles distant in less than 4 houra. If still small. Horse or foot travel to simi-
automobile, bus or train travel had been larly located fires would inevitably result
relied upon, this overhead would not in a much larger fire, bunting for days
have arrived for at least 12 to 24 hours instead of hours, with attendant high
and would have required a rest period damage and great expense to control*
from the fatigue of travel before they In 1940, on a more or less experimental

would have been capable of carrying out basis, two-man fire fighting crews para-
their assignments on the fire. ohut^ to nine fires which were in espe-

Parachuting men to fires in inaeeessi- eially inaccessible and dangerous areas,
ble areas is a recent development which where under existing conditions fires
has attracted much attention. Through would spread rapidly and become large

PROGRESS IN FOREST FIRE CONTROL

529

before usual suppression forces could
reach them. Parachute jumpers were
able to reach some of these fires in an
hour or less. Ordinary modes of travel
would have taken from 24 to 40 hours.
The remaininf? fires attacked from the
air were reached in from one to three
hours, resultiufr in similar time savings.

As an example, on the evening of
August 20, a lightning storm unaccom-
panied by rain hit the Moose Creek
Ranger District in the Northern Rocky
Mountain Region. Sixteen lightning
fires were started in the area in which
there were but 11 men available to
handle the fires. Pour parachute jump-
ers were dropped to two of these fires
with the result that they controlled the
fires when still less than one quarter of
an acre each. Six of the remaining 14
fires were quite comparable in all re-
spects to the two which the parachutists
attacked, except that they were more
readily accessible to roads. These fires
burned from 100 to 1,000 acres each and
cost from $2,000 to $13,000 to control as
compared with the two fires controlled
at one quarter of an acre each by the
smoke jumpers at a total cost of less than
$500. It is conservatively estimated that
if ground forces had been depended
upon, the cost of suppressing the nine
fires attacked from the air would have
amounted to no less than $32,000 as con-
trasted with $9,047, the total cost of
maintaining the parachute suppression
forces for the full season. Actual sup-
pression of all these fires cost only $2,250,
excluding non-firefighting time of the
men when engaged in other work and

awaiting fire calls. This indicates a net,
saving of almost $30,000 in expenditures
with a reduction in area burned of sev-
eral thousand acres.

Speed in controlling forest fires is also
being advanced by the development and
use of other specialized equipment such
as portable water pumps, tank trucks,
power fire-line construction machines,
portable radios, power felling and buck-
ing saws, power flame throwers for rapid
back-firing of lines that must be burned
out to stop the advance of the fire, small
tractors for transporting small crews and
supplies over trails where there are no
roads, and other similar equipment.
Equally important but less arresting is
the increasing study and improvement of
methods of working men on the fire line
to increase production and to reduce
waste effort and time commonly experi-
enced in emergency work such as fire
fighting.

Although considerable progress has
been made, the losses are still too great
A loss of 318,000 acres per year, the 1940
burned area, would be equivalent to a
loss in 10 years of over 3,000,000 acres,
too great a depletion of our natural re-
sources to be countenanced. When for-
ests burn, productivity for the period
until the resources lost are again replen-
ished and available for use must be recog-
nized as well as the monetary value of
the resources destroyed.*

3 The resoureoR of the national forests and
their importanee to the welfare of the nation
appeared in The Soientific Monthly for Au-
gust, 1939, Forest Conservation and National
Security,^’ by Biehard F. 6ainmett, U. 8. For-
est Service.

ANT MOUNDS IN SUMMER WOODS

By Dr. E. A. ANDREWS

KMERmrS PROFESSOR OF ZOOLOGY, THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY

According to the old fable the grass-
hopper came to the ant to beg food which
the industrious creature had stored up
for the f uturje while the grasshopper had
spent the summer singing. And in the
scriptures we read that the ant ** having
no guide, overseer or ruler yet stores up
its meat for the winter/’ Yet this is not
true of all sorts of ants and if we take as
example the kind known as the mound-
building ant of the Alleghanies, or to the
entomologist as Formica exsedoides F.,
we will soon find that its chief concern
is with its daily bread, with no reference
to storage for the winter, and indeed we
will come to realize that it is only its
fine bouse and family that insures this
kind of ant against the terrors of the
winter.

A mound such as seen in Fig. 1 often
swarms with ants much of the summer
time ; ants all running at such speed that
the camera fails to show them, each^ork-
ing quite separately, here and there on
the roof of their great community house,

which is so vast as compared with the ant
itself that the Reverend H. McCook cal-
culated the great pyramid of Cheops was
small work for man, in comparison. We
see each ant struggling up the slope with
maybe a stick ten times its length held
up in its jaws, as if a man carried a tele-
phone pole, or maybe a stone great in
bulk and weight, but if not to be lifted
then dragged behind as the ant runs
straight backward and yet rapidly.
Whether near the top, over the top or on
this side, the ant suddenly releases its
burden and runs down for a new load.
Objects are picked up from fifty feet
roundabout and brought to add to the
mound which thus becomes, in close-up
view. Fig. 2, covered over with small ob-
jects of many kinds looking like a sort
of museum of what can be found in the
neighborhood. Though thus gathered bit
by bit by ants seeming to have no knowl-
edge of the works of the others, yet the
mass takes on the form we see in an hour-
glass where the sand falls from a central

FIG. 1. AN ANT MOUND MADE PABTLT OF ClHABOOAL
SINCE THE OB^aOOAL BtTRKBRB CUT TBS FOREST NEW TREES HAVE SPRUNG UP AND TSE AMTS HAVE
MADE TREIR GREAT MOUND DARK WITH BITS OF OBARCOAL. THE SIX-INOB BULB GIVES THE 80ALA

680

ANT MOUNDS IN SUMMER WOODS

531

point above. But for all this work the
ant must eat: and ancient wisdom in-
forms us that the ants ^^are a people not
strong, yet they prepare their meat in
the summer/’ Follow the ants far
enough and you may see the way meat
is got — some or many ants mobbing a
worm or insect, eventually killing it and
dragging it back to the mound, where it
is lost to sight in some of the many open-
ings round the bottom of the mound.
But it is the liquid food the ants bring
home that is their chief staple, and this
can be traced to some tree inhabited by
plant-lice or other insects that suck the
sap and give out what is known as
“honey-dew,” of no use to them but wel-
comed by the ant as a substitute for milk.
Each ant becomes gorged with honey-
dew, and coming down the tree weighs
a third more than when he went up.

All food, however, is not long held as
private property, but it is shared with
those who have less, till the entire com-
munity profits. Among the beneficiaries
are the numerous young ants coming
from eggs laid by the few mothers, known
as “queens” who alone supply the com-
munity with new members to be fed and
cared for by the working ants, which may
be also builders and providers.

For the eggs and young certain tem-
peratures are necessary, and here the ant
seeks the aid of the sun. If we put ther-
mometers into a mounds as in Fig. 3, we
find out that the top is the warmer part,
the north region the cooler and other
parts varying as the day advances and
the sun shines on different parts succes-
sively : while at night all grow cooler, but
not as cool as the surrounding earths
since, as in our houses, there is stored up
heat under the tight roof ^ lasting on into
the next day.

That the ants do not only utilise the
warmth of the sun but prefer certain
temperatures rather than others, is

FIG. 2. A SMALLER MOUND

HADE BT ANTS TAKEN TO A NEW REGION. THE
SURFACE 18 COVERED WITH SMALL STICKS AND
WITH WHITE SPECKS THAT WERE BITS OF FOSSIL
SHELLS PLACED THERE BY THE ANTS. THE ANTS
DID NOT PUT THE WATCH THERE.

known from keeping them in glass en-
closures with thermometers and noting
the places to which they carry their eggs
and young ; by finding the young in that
part of the mound showing certain tem-
peratures; and by sometimes seeing the
ants coming out over the roof of the
mound to carry their young to a more
favorable part of the interior of the
mound.

, 3. TAKING TSSJIPERATUUE

or ANT MOUlb. TBBBXOIKETERS STUCK tMTO A
MOUND AND LAID ON ITS SURFACE TO TELL HOW
THE HEAT OF THE SUN WARMS TBE INSUMI, SO
THAT IT IS FIT FOR REARING YOUNG.

532

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

FIG. 4, PAETIALLY MOSS COVEHED

ALONG TfiS AOAD BY THIS WOODS ^ BDOX THB
aCOUND XS THATCHED WITH FRAGMENTS OF
PLANTS BUT ON THE SHADED FACE MOSS COVERS
THE LOWER PART. THE RULE XS SIX INCHES LONG
AND MARKS THE UPPER LIMIT TO WHICH THE

MOSS HAS GROWN.

With food, with right sun warmth and
with moisture most fitting, all goes well ;
eggs hatch as grubs, grubs rest in
cocoons that look somewhat like grains
of wheat, to emerge later as full-sized
ants to increase the population from time
to time in numbers to be inferred from
tally of the cast-ofF swaddling clothes
brought out by the old ants and depos-
ited aa frail additions to the roof, soon
scattered by the winds.

The thousands of young ants added
during the summer may more than make

up for the losses by accident and old age ;
then the community grows and with it
the mound is builded greater through
thirty or more years. But this property
handed down from generation to genera-
tion must be kept in repair; the rains
tend to destroy it, and if the ants aban-
don it the mound soon becomes as in
Fig. 5, covered with little pinnacles of
firmer earth, the posts, columns and
buttresses of the house, not as readily
washed away as are the walls of the ants’
chambers and passageways; but eventu-
ally all the mound will vanish and noth-
ing but softer earth represent its site.
Too much shade is bad for the commu-
nity — ^they work best in the sun. The
north face of the mound may be neg-
lected and moss growing up over it, as
in Fig. 4, may take entire possession when
the ants migrate to some new si^ It is
true the ants do actually bite and irri-
gate with strong formic acid young trees
and plants growing near their mounds,
but yet trees will grow and may finally
overshadow the mounds, so they are
abandoned by the ants.

On the other hand, as old mounds dis-
appear new ones may spring up, as in
Fig. 6, where some kindly wind felling
the trees made an opening in the dense
woods and there the ants found a place

FIQ. 5. IN MAY A MOUND LONQ ABANDONBD BY ITB INHABITANTS

WOBN DOWN BY BBIX TtU, YHB 8t7BI<AOS SHOWS LIVRH nWHAOUH BISISmra lABKH AMO SOKS

itims nnnn.Bs mot wasbbd away, tbs soaie av yop «v trb hoomo u six imohbs mmo.

ANT MOUNDS IN SUMMER WOODS

533

mo. 6. ANT MOUNDS CROWD CLOSE TOGETHER TO ENJOY THE SUN

WHERE THE WIND HAS THROWN SOME TREES IN THE PINE WOODS.

in the sun, not only for one, but for sev- dying away here and new ones arising
eral mounds close together. Thus a pre- there, shifting the center of population,
ferred region may count hundreds of but ants living on in the same general
mounds^ forming a city or state ; mounds region indefinitely.

PETROLEUM IN THE UNITED STATES

To an unprecedented degree, petroleum has . kinds) ; and over 400 marine tankers, of 2,770,-
become an essential in the waging of war. 000. gross tonnage. ReOnerics in the United
The position of the industry, as to production, States having combined capacity of 4,1^1,000
distribution and resources, and its capacity to barrels of crude oil daily were operij^ting at the
ea^and and enlarge its services ate of utmost end. of 1940, with additional capacity of OSO,000
consequence at this time* In 194^, production barrels daily shut down or building. In addi-
of crude oil in the United States was 1,251,847,* tion, cracking plant capacities capable of turn-
000 barrels. This production was 60 per cent, ing out 1,021,000 barrels per day of crackd^
of the estimati^ world’s total, and 28 tiniieathe gasoline were operating, with 130,000 barrels'
total prodttotion of the Aids nations. It bame eapaeity shut down or building,
from 392,208 producing wells, pf which, ,19,778 From the foregoing it is clear that as far as
were eauipleted during the year* Known oil any probable national emergency is concerned
reserves . in the United States . apprpidms^ the American oil industry is prepared. About
19,000,000,000 barrehi, .and the nationaDinren* an aiiq>le supply of crude oil to meet such emer*
tory Of petroleum preduets as of Deeember 31, gmiey, there need be no eoneem. Transporta-
1940, was 568,8^^0 barrels. tion of crude from oil fields to refineries offers

Total trsmspc^rimou facilities Included 816,* no problem. Manufacturing and dietrlbution
009 miles of crude oii, gaeolihe said gaui pipe fa^lities are adequate to aR needs, military and
Ibesi 146,000 tanh eats; 140^000 tmchs (all / tMh^tandard Oil Bulletin, April, X$41.

THE CHAKACTBR OF WEATHER

By Dn ADBLBERT XL BOTTS

ASSOCIATE PEOFEBSOB OF OEOQHAPHT, NEW JSBSEY STATE TBACRBBB OOLUBOE AT TBENTON

Weather is eapricious. It is fickle,
undependable, inconstant* For the
great majority of people in the United
States the most apparent characteristic
of weatlier is its changeableness. From
January first until December thirty-first
the weatiher provides, for most of us, a
continuous, fluctuating succession of
^‘spells,"' involving innumerable combi-
nations of heat, cold^ sunshine, cloudi-
ness, rain, drought, wind and calm,
usu^ly with no apparent rhyme nor
reason to the process.

Early man turned to the gods for his
explanation of the weather. According
to the temper and affection of the gods
for their children, destruction and hun-
ger or love and plenty were dispensed
through the agencies of ever-changing
weather. Having provided satisfactory
explanations for the causes of weather
changes, man’s next task was to learn
how to forecast the changes. Sages
sought signs. A vast body of weather
lore evolved. In the development of
weather lore man acquired the rhyme
as well as the reason for weather con-
ditions.

When the wind is in the dsst, ’tis good for
neither man nor beast.

wbon the wind le in the eoiith it blowe the b&it
to the dahei month.

he knew both the cause and the signs of
the wither, man might have been satis-
fied. Bat he wasn’t. Skeptics ques-
tioned not only the function of the gods,
but the validity of the weatbar signs as
well. Benjamin Franklin is recognised
among the skeptics. His numeroos ex-
periments and observations led him to
revolutionary conclusions. Besides iden-
tifying electricity as a phenomenon of
weather, he is cr^ited with observations
which helped to establish the faet that
storms tend to travel from the west
toward the east.

From that idea gradually devdoped
the concept of weather as a series of
eastward-moving storms. With the aid
of barometers scientists learned to iden-
tify storms with changes in sir pressure.
Eventually they devised a classification
of storms based on barometric pressure
conditions. The weather nomenclature
of that period included such terms as
"isobar,” lines on' maps connecting
places of the same pressure; "cyclones,”
areas of low barometric pressure, more
commonly referred to as "Lows”; and
"anticyclones” or "Highs,” areas of
high pressure.

The United States Weather Bureau,
originating in lfi70, establuAed its

These, with a multitude of local addi-
tions and variations, comprised ^the
"weather prophet’s” stock in tri^e.
And we must not be haughty in our atti-
tude toward prophets and their lingo,
for, although oft^ scorned by SeiSnoe,
numy weatiier proverbs have firm foun-
dations in fact.

Aftmr reaching that happy state’where

splendid system of observing, reporting
and forecasting, weather while the . in-
fluence of the air pressure metec^lbgisto
was at its hs^ht The Weatiter Pureau
publkhes d^y wM^er maps <m whi^
stpms ace id^tifi^ as "Highs’’ ^
"Lows,’’ depoad^ir wheth«r h%h w

low atmb^fam^ liraMure dom^tim tM
centm: of tiie ikbna areas. Oartfiil
' aaudyt^s xit preat^ areas a

THE CSABAOTEB OF WSATHSB

535

Msoeiate ratliw definite weather phe-
nomena with “Highs” and “Lows” and
with their Tariona parts. Knowing the
genoral characteristics, the paths and the
nsoal rate of movement of storms, fore-
casters have been able to achieve a very
high degree of accuracy in prognostica-
tion.

But again skeptics have arisen. Their
activities have developed an “air-mass
analysis” system of weather study.
“Air-mass analysis” students contend
that their system of weather study is
more accurate and dependable than the
“barometric system” because it deals
with the whole atmosphere of a region
rather than with a limited number of
phenomena. Whereas the older system
studied “High” and “Low” pressure
areas, the newer system amdyzes “air-
masses.”

An “air-mass” consists of a highly
homogeneous body of atmosphere sev-
eral hundred miles in horisontal diame-
ter, three to five miles thick. Each
^*air-ma8s” is a separate and distinct
individual possessing characteristics dis-
tinguishing it from its neighbors. Some
'*air-ma8ses” are cold and clear, some
warm and rainy, some cool and rainy;
and a few are warm and dry. A succes-
sion of contrasting “air-masses” pass-
ing over a locality provide frequent and
occasionally violent changes in weather
within brief periods of time.

Air-masses affecting the United States
appear to originate either in the high
pressure sone lying to the south of us
or in the polar high pressure aone.
Masses from those two sonrees approach
each other, generally arrange them-
selves in alternating succession, overlap
along the sones of contact and march in
mi easterly direction across the country.

The character of any individual air-
mass develops at the point of that indi-
vMtial's Masses originating in

film tropics aeqtfbre ti^ipieal characteris-
this; l£ose from polar regimis become

polar in their nature. Oceanic air-
maasea are and damn. C<Hitinental
air-masses display extreme temperatures
and low moisture content. Bach tends
to maintain its original character as it «
passes across the continent, but its suc-
cess in that regard depends mainly up<m
the speed at which it travels and upon
the nature of the land surface over which
it moves. A slowly moving mass is an
inconstant mass. The land or sea over
which it passes convejrs to its lower lay-
ers many modifying characteristics.
High mountains in the paths of air-
masses cause them to drop their moisture

BEGIONAIi CLIMATE MAP

and often change their temperature as
well.

Air-masses are named and identified
according to their regions of origin.
Perhaps the three most common air-
masses visiting the United States are
Polar Continental (commonly called
Pc), Tropical Gulf (Tg), and Pcdar
Pacific (Pp). In addition to these,
others that visit our country are Tropi-
cal Pacific (Tp), Tropical Continental
(Tc), Tropical Atlantie (Ta) and Polar
Atlantic (Pa). If, because of slow rate
of toavel or beeause of obstructions in
their paths, air-masses suffer modifica-
tion they lose some of their distinctive

536

THE SCIBNTIPIC MONTHLY

oharacteristios. Such ehanges in charac-
ter necessitate changes in name. In sndi
a manner a slowly moving, mild Pc
(Polar Continental) air-mass becomes
an Npc (Modified or Neutraliaed Polar
Continental) air-mass. The Pc, as be-
fore, indicates the source and essential
character of the mass. The N testifies
to changes that have occurred in transit.
All other modified air-masses are like-
wise identified by an N placed before
the original initials.

The names indicate that dominant
characteristics in air-masses are en-
gendered by two sets of opposing fac-
tors. On one hand, polar versus tropical
factors provide cold or warm air for the
masses. On the other hand, factors of
continental versus marine nature deter-
mine the severity or mildness of the
temperatures as well as the amount of
atmospheric moisture.

Continental climates are notoriously
extreme in temperature conditions. If
they are cold they are extremely cold;
if hot, infernal. Usually, also, they are
dry. As a consequence, air-masses mov-
ing out of a region with a continental
type of climate possess extreme tempera-
tures and low moisture content. Polar
continental North America experiences
extremely cold weather during eight or
ten months of the year. At such low
temperatures the atmosphere is unable
to contain much water vapor. For those
reasons the weather is clear, cold, crisp
and dry.

As an air-mass moves out of such a
region it transports . to regions lying
south and southeast of its point of origin
a first-rate sample of McKenzie or Hud-
son Bay weather. Such masses are
particularly frequent in the northern
states during the winter. There they
account for most of the clear weather
and for the “unseasonably cold”
weather. Occasional pure Pc (Polar
continental) air-masses move directly

from north central Canada to the Qidf
of Mexico. On such occasions the news-
papers are fiUed with descriptions of the
“cold wave” and of “freesea” para]^
ing the Qulf Coast and destroying the
citrus crops of Florida. Such air-
masses also furnish us with frosts <m
clear nights in early autumn and late
spring.

Marine climates are generally mild.
In winter they are wanner than conti-
nental areas of similar latitude. In
summer they are cooler. Consequently,
air-masses originating in areas with
marine types of climates are less extreme
in temperature than continental air-
masses. Also marine air-masses are
more humid than are those of conti-
nental origin.

But marine air-masses are not all
equally humid. The contrast between
those coming from polar regions and
those coming from tropical regions is
very marked. That is because warm air
can contain more moisture than cold air.
Thus, most of the rainfall of central and
eastern United States east of the BodQ^
Mountains comes with tropical marine
air-masses. Among that group the Tg
(Tropical Gulf) air seems to be the most
dependable and least erratic provider at
precipitation. Tp (Tropical Pacific) air
has little opportunity to serve more than
a small section of the southwest because
of the great distance to be traveled and
of the high mountains in the path. Ta
(Tropical Atlantic) air is, compared
with Tg (Tropical Gulf) air, a rdativdy
infrequent visitor but a most lavidi
spender of its liquid assets when it does
come. On several occasions, warm, damp
Tropical Atlantic air has moved directly
from the sea into the northeastern
states where it wedged itself in between
stable, c<dd air-masses from the nmrth.
In such a situation it is literally aeenrate
to say, “It doesn't rain but it pours.”
As evidence of the wmrk of Ta (Tropical

THE CHABACTBB OP WEATHER

537

^^tiantio) air>maases are the New Bn-
gland fl(^ of November, 1927, the New
York flood of July, 1935, and the gen-
eral flood of the Northeastern states in
March, 1936, as well as the hurricane of
September, 1938.

All parts of the United States have
some variety in the air-masses that visit
them. The far Northwest receives Pp
(Polar Paeiflc) air most frequently, but
Tp (Tropical Pacific) and even Pc
(Polar Continental) air visits that area
occasionally. The southwestern coast
enjoys Tp (Tropical Pacific) air-masses
more frequently than its northern neigh-
bor; but it does not lack entirely the
more stimulating air-masses from the
north and from the continent. Southern
California summer weather embraces
some hot dry Tc (Tropical Continental)
air-masses which originate in the arid
region of Northern Mexico at that
season.

Air-masses tend to move in an easterly
direction, but once in a while they swing
to the west or travel directly north or
south before adopting the eastern com-
ponent of their itineraries. Conse-
quently, the western mountain section
receives parades of Pp (Polar Pacific),
Tp (Tropical Pacific), and Tc (Tropical
continental) air-masses with winter Pc
(Polar continental) masses for added
variety. Throughout much of that sec-
tion of the country Pp (Polar Pacific)
and Npp (Modified Polar Pacific) air
dominates, bringing heavy precipitation
to the western sides of the mountains
and mild but dry weather to the eastern
aides.

The northern plains and prairies, east-
ern Montana to northern Ohio, add
strong Pc (Polar continental) masses to
the procession, while the soutiiem states
contribute Tg (Tropical Gkilf) air. As
is the ease in all parts of the country the
number and intensity of the dominant
air-masses of titose regions fluctuates
with the season. The masses frmn the

Gulf are more numerous and intense in
the summer. Those of polar continental
origin dominate in the winter.

To be sure, many of the weaker west-
ern air-masses lose their identity by
mixing with larger and fresher masses
before they reach the eastern states. Tp
(Tropical Pacific) air and Tc (Tropical
continental) air reach the eastern coast
only on rare occasions. Pp (Polar
Pacific) air is almost always modified by
its journey over the mountains and
across the plains.

In spite of these losses and modifica-
tions the northeastern states from Maine
to Virginia are in a position to view the
parade of air-masses at its most varied
best. In that region it is an unusual
month, indeed, which does not experi-
ence Tg (Tropical Gulf), Ntg (Modified
Tropical Gulf), Pc (Polar Continental),
Npc (Modified Polar Continental) and
Npp (Modified Polar Pacific) air-
masses. In addition to these "standard”
masses a little pure Pp (Polar Pacific)
and some Ntp (Modified Tropical Pa-
cific) or Ntc (Modified Tropical Conti-
nental) air from the west may assert
itself. From the east Ta (Tropical
Atlantic) air, heavy with rainfall and
Pa (Polar Atlantic) wielding a "north-
easter” may join the procession and
give added variety to the weather.

The ever-changing succession of air-
masses passing over an area does provide
an abundance of variety. However, the
relations of one air-mass with its neigh-
bors increases still further the ocnnplex-
ity of weather probabilities. Between
every two adjacent air-masses there is
a sons of contact and mixture with a
"type” of weather all its own.

Zones of oontaet'and mixture between
neighboring air-masses are called
"fronts.” The lone between a cold air-
mass followed by a warm one is a "warm
front,” that between a warm mawi fol-
lowed Ity odd air is a "odd front.” Air-
masses differ in dmaity primarily be-

538

THE SOIBNTIFIO MONTHLY

i *

cause of differences in temporatnre and
moisture content. When th^ meet, the
colder one being denser and drier than
the other stays dose to the ground and
forces the warm, moist air along the edge
of a warm air^mass to rise. In a warm
front the warm air crowds into the rear
of a cold air-mass. In that situation the
warm air climbs up over the edge. The
back side of the cdd air-mass becomes a
long gentle slope up which the warm air
dimbs as if it were climbing a hQl, and
the effects are almost the same. Warm
fronta are usually rainy because as the
warm air dimbs the "cold air hiU” it
becomes cooled, douds form and precipi-
tation forms. But the warm front rains
are not usually stormy. The processes
inTolred in the dimbing are rdativdy
mild and sddom result in severe condi-
tions.

On the other hand, cold front weather
is nasty weather. As in the ease of warm
fronts, the odd air stays dose to the
ground and forces the warm air to rise,
but in odd fronts the process is often
a vident one. As the cold air advances
into a region occupied by warm air it
displaces the warm air by crowding
under it. Consequently, the warm air,
on frequent occasions, is forced to rise
with rapidity and much turbulence.
Turbulence results in local storms. The
severity of storms depends upon the
violence with which the displacement of
air occurs and upon the amount of air
involved. Cdd front storms vary all the
way from gusty weather to the mpat
destructive tornadoes. Squalls, thun-
derstorms, hailstorms, ‘‘dtuters,” blia-
zards, tornadoes — aU are commonly bom
in cold front zones.

Because of its frequent defini t e n ess
the approach <ff a odd front bi oue of
the most easily observed weather phe-
nomma in many parts of the ITnited
States. It usually advances from the
west, accompanied by high, Uadt, roll-
ing douds, and regar^ess of the time of
day, may cause an abrupt and distinct
reduction in the temperature. A five or
six degree reduction of temperature
within a few minutes is not unusual
with the arrival of a cold front
Weather does have rhyme and reascm.
It is difDcult for us to appreciate the
rhythmic sequence of warm and cdd air-
masses, especially when that sequence
contributes to the making of such head-
lines as the following :

Belief Manhaled for South ea Toll of Twnado
Bisee

186 Dead, 800,000 Homeleia in Xlooda; ‘Whed-
ing Deluged, Washington Hit, New Bngland
Cut Off above Hartford

Buffalo Area Gets 84 Inches of Snow

Soggy fall eontinues and eity, out of re-
moval funds, lets tralBe halt

Cold Wave Moves Bast in Storm’s Wake
Many towns snowbound in Dakotas

West Plagued by Dust Storm and Odd Wave

Thunderstorm Breaks Heat of 81; Qloudbntst
Bloods Nyaek as Dam Gives Way

In the midst of one of these i^enom-
ena we lose sight of the succession of
related events contributing to its occur-
rence. It is only when observing the
westhdr over an extended period of time
or abstractly as on a map that we can
truly appreciate the beauty of the eystem
and realise that air-masses passing across
the country do respond to definite laws
of rhyme and reasmi.

THE REAL IN ART

■r Dr. IAMBS BTSNIE SHAW

nanoTOB PunwaoB or iuthiiu«iob, mmiuaTT or uumoib

1. Cbbatob AND Created

In order to appreciate an artist’s pro-
duction one must reproduce in himself
the living state of ^e artist when he
created his expression. This means he
must permit those processes in the artist’s
spirit and in his own which are essential
in the creative act to have full dominance
over him. This is easily evident in the
mobile arts. A performer of a musical
composition practically becomes its cre-
ator for the time ; the dancer relives the
ecstasy with each repetition. This is,
however, just as necessary in the static
arts. To see completely a statue or a
painting, the spectator must become the
vicarious creator for a while. The fun-
dammital processes I shall label: En-
rythm, pose, poise, grace, personality, vi-
sion. I^m their nature these are not the
names of intellectual processes. They
represent purely spiritual structures,
living, changing, quite vague from an
intdleotiud point of view. They are
branching lightning-trees, lunar rain-
bows, vanidling ribbons of the auroral
lights, lilies blooming out of the nebulous
douds over a mountain-top. But these
spiritual structures are among the most
real entities the human creature will ever
And.

Eiirythm will mean that phase of the
creative spirit which leaves its stamp
in the quklity of a production called
rhythm. Wi^out eurjrthm in the iqiirit
no rhythm vrould appear in the produc-
tion. It is a directive agent, the inner
pulae-beat, the cosmic wave of the spirit ;
for ffpirit palpitates even as matter or
light

Pose will mean that phase of the spirit
irMidi leaves its record in what we call

design. It is the directive agent whidi
places space-forms, time-forms, number-
forms, color-forms, selecting the patterns
they Aould exhibit

Poise will mean that phase which di-
rects Ihe production of qnmmetry. The
spirit most balance itself before it can
create outward balance. It is the cre-
ative act of weaving threads of life into
a net of symmetry, however intricate.

Cfraee will mean that phase which pro-
duces harmony. In the sway of its con-
trol the parts of a production At together,
are consistent, complementary, sympa-
thetic.

Personality will mean the centralising
phase which keeps everything organic,
unitary. It is the quality of identical
persistence of the spirit.

Tiston will mean the phase of the spirit
which sees things not yet actual, which
creates new spiritual forms to have ex-
pression in some medium. Without vi-
sion art would be impossible.

After a work of art has been Aniahed,
particularly in tiie static arts, it may then
be made the object of intellectnal study
ud criticism ; but this is no more a study
of art than the determination of the
Fourier series for the crinkled groove in
the phonograph disc is a study of music.
The art is not in the statue but in the act
of creation which gave birth to the statue.
In this act must be found the reality.

Man is not entirdy the product of
“evolutionary” forces, for he has alwayn
deAed the world that environs him by
attempting to bend it to his will. What-
ever his method of doing this and whether
successful or futile, it diows clearly that
he knows himself to be a creator, even
though the material out of which he m^ift

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

aetoaliie hk dreams as beat he can is Hi-
adapted, inadequate or refractoiy. At
times he is only too conseioua that he is
a leaf whirled in the eddying gnat, hat he
has never accepted this fate. His very
study of his environment is partly due to
a gadfly curiosity, but it is due just as
much, perhaps more, to his intention of
becoming the master of the world, making
it subservimt to his wishes. For whatt
More food and clothingt More posses-
sionsf It takes little observation to see
that these are usually secondary. What
he is after is spiritual power: power to
carry out his ideas, power to prove him-
self a builder, to give outlet to the seeth-
ing forms that emerge far down inside
him, in that inner life which is his most
real life, the life that would be bound,
inert, inactive, ineffectual, unless he ac-
quires power to put it into some ex-
pressed form. He flnds that outlet in
creative activity: he may do it in the
dance for rain, he may do it in Hamlet,
or he may construct a dender stem hold-
ing a flower high up above the arid city
street Though he be tossed by the winds
of destiny, though he may float on the
river of heredity, he is not content with
this. He is also an individual, something
imique in the universe, and he has within
himself an urgent inner life which must
be let loose. He flnds at times that his
environment is too much for him, and he
makes himself passive to influences out-
side his o(mtrol, so ttyit he may study
them carefully, keenly, to penetrate their
secret structure and tp leapn in what wny
and to what extent he can turn their tur-
bulent currents into channels of his own.
He devdops his analysis of them, his
imagined laws, his system of science, his
constructs, finding within himself what
matches them, so that he may go with
them long enough to get command of
them. But he knows intuitively that his
place in the universe is not that of a mere
spe<^tor, seeing things only by “flashes
of lightning,”^ the rest all darkness and

^ Poinear^, * 'La Talear da la seienoe* ' ’

mystery. He is not a begntar-ohild lock-
ing wistfully through heavy plate-glass
at the feast of the universe. Neither is
he a walking-ddl that sa3rB “nuuna“ and
goes to the ash-barrd when the mecha-
nism is broken. He is an adventurer who
is out on a quest of beauty. There is in-
side him an incessant' longing — not al-
ways consciously known, — but yet per-
sistently there — ^for an invisible, intan-
gible, inaudible reality, which is more
important to him than all the trumpery
with which he may surround himsdf , for
this reality is indeed himself. It is a
glorified espression of that idiich he sees
himsdf potentially to be. Whatever
means of expression he finds will be as
inadequate to express his vision as the
paper and iok to carry an impassioned
lover’s rhapsody.

'When the first primitive tribe with
sweating labor managed to stand on end
a huge monolith, their expression of the
majesty and power of their first vague
intuition of the unknown, expression of
their own dim eonseiousness of capabili-
ties, of powers to be attained only in the
tedious march of centuries, a monolith
reaching up higher than they, solid and
undisturbed rain or frost, was there
nothing real and permanent for whieh
this dumsy qrmbd stood? Bven the
archeologists and ethnologists who see in
it nothing but a phallic symbol will have
to admit that the insurgeui^ of life and
the urge to creation are worth a qrmbol
which shows them as eternal realities.

The two-f<fld eharaeter of the psyehe
is easily evident with only a small amount
of refleeticm and very little insight.
There is the ability to crystalliie the
evanescent and flowing waves of events
into definite and stable forms, and this
is called knowledge. Then there is the
constant urge to create new dements,
more spontaneity, unguessed and un-
dreamed forms tor the inner life, and
this is called art So fleeting is the con-
figuration of the ptydte that tiie fixed
and stable dements are ascribed not tO:

THE BEAL IN ABT

it bat to aa objective world '<diicb is as*
somed to be independent of the pa 3 rche.
Knowledge k assomed to be understand*
ing of an extraneous entity. Art k as-
sumed to be mere play of the spirit, fleet-
ing emotion, of only passing interest.
Both assumptions are wrong, since knowl-
edge k the more or less temporary system
of invariants with which the psyche
plays, while art k the emergence of the
new life-forms of the psyche itself.
Those creations of the psyche which it
retsinB for a while constitute knowledge,
and the creating of a new form k art. It
k easy to restate knowledge since its
forms are for a while permanent, but to
state art one must accompany the wild
duck in its flight, must freese the rainbow
the sun produces against the shower of
events. Thk means of course that knowl-
edge and art are human, even if they
plumb the absolute. What sort of psy-
chical material a Martian cherishes as
knowledge we can not know. What sort
of art he creates we can not know either.

The stable routes from one item of
knowledge to another we call logic. They
seem to os to be necessary, but merely
because we have made them habitual in
going from one judgment to another. To
And other routes would be an act of cre-
ation, which would be art, not logic, and
thk process of making new logics k actu-
ally going on. Stable modes of art would
be impoBsiUe, since creation implies the
unaipeeted, ^e versatile, the ever-new.
Thk does not mean that in the creative
process there k not a permanent reality.
Reality does not mean flxity, crystalline
structure. Any organism that maintains
its individuality as an organism, even
though subject to a steady flux of mate-
rial, even if every atom, material or men-
tal, k cb«w*g iw g momentarily into a new
atom, k neverthdesB a reality. The hu-
man' body k a reality, the immaterial
sieve tlvough which chemicals flow. The
reality of art k of thk nature. An easy
siamide k dual synunetry, both eomide-
mentaiy idiases together oonstituting the

541

unitary symmetry. Thk may be found
in positive and negative number, in geo-
metric reflection in a plane mirror, in sine
and cosine, in wave and particle, in the
facade of a temple, in the right and left
of the human form, in the purple and
yellow of the sunset, in the assonance and
dissonance of music, in the earthly and
the heavenly love, in male and female, in
good and evil — what matter the medium
in which the dual symmetry expresses
itselft The reality k that which gen-
erates the symmetry; the forms are ad-
ventitious. The stable idea of symmetry
k knowledge, the aetualieing of sjnn-
metry in some form k art Indeed
knowledge and art are phases of a dual
symmetry in the psyche itself, though
tixere are ako to found trinities,
quatemities and many other forms. The
struggle of the poke of the spirit with
its medium of expression k often intense :
"white, white blossom, fall of the shat-
tered cups day on day.”* To many of
the realities of art there do not corre-
spond ideas; they are not expressible
in the abstractions and static forms of
language. The nearest approach in
language k in creative, metaphorical,
suggestive poetry. Hence stating an
example in words k very inadequate. It
k at best a sort of ticket for reality it-
self. "Art k the very flowering, the
tangible flowering, of ^e creative soul
come to ecstasy.”*

There k a constant interplay of the
two characters of the psyche. It k the
creative character whidi ftnmiahes
knowledge its hyjratheses, the most steady
source of advance m science. It k the
crystallking character which fnmkhss
art its types of expression, the most
steady source of production of art works.
Research goes on all the time both ways.
On the knowledge side it usually consists
in an increase in dkpersive power. Blot-
ting principles into more universal prin-

> J. Q. yietelter, '*WUte Sya^pluniy.**

• 8. OtwacT', New World Ardiiteetaze,*’'
p. 847.

542

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

dplM or more fundamental hypotheaea.
On tile art aide it naually eonaiata of
eiperimenta made to find a mwe ade*
qnate method of handling the medinm,
eapreaaing more fully the artiat’a viaion.
Often the apparently unrelated re*
aearehea apring from the aame aouroe
deep domi in the psyche. It has been
pointed out that much modem art is an
aotualiaing in art forms of the aame uni*
Teiaal invarianta as appear in science in
the Einstein theory. Human life, after
all, is unitary, and we should expect this
symmetric dualism in its manifestations.
When crystallisations made by the
pqrche no longer fit experience we have
an advance in science. When forms used
for art no longer convey the message of
the artist we have an advance in art.
Neither advance is welcomed by the mul-
titude, for the usual human being is
Faust, always seeking the moment he will
bid to stay because he has found his
supreme desire. Man is still quite hairy
with his past

A few years ago a picture labeled
“Life’* hung in an exhibition. It was
not large, but the canvas was a confusion
of gaudy patches of yellow, green, blue,
red, in chaotic arrangements and vague
outlines. A bystander remarked, “Look
at it! Did you ever see anything so
cnuyt” Thereply was, “Is that a beef-
steak in the center or a volcano in emp*
tionf” Other comments were similar.
Yet the artist in h^ conventionally
jangling colors, his disorderly arrange-
ments, his unformed ontlipes, really por-
trayed vividly the struggle of the eu-
rythmic, the pose, the poise, the grace,
the vision reaUy inherent in the spirit of
man, with the clumsy, stumUing, dstiuur-
monious unbalanced environment after
the war. An erudite volume would not
have made it as plain. “Art may tell a
truth obliquely, do tiie thing shall breed
the thought. “ ‘ ‘ So may you paint your
picture, twice show truth, beyond mare
imagery on the wall,— so, note by note.

bring musie fmn your ndnd, deeper than
ever Andante dived,— so write a book
shall mean beyond the facts, sulBee the
eye and save the soul beside.”*

A work of art u the exhibition a
significant form in whidi the ereative
spirit of the artist incarnates itedf. Its
purpose is to effect a transfer of some
part of the spirit-life of the artist over
into that of his public. In the static arts
the flame of creativity is frosm in its
flickering, but an intense moment is
ohosen so that the imohanging exhfliition
will always suggest the lambent fire. In
the mobile arts a portion of the ereative
life is caged and placed on exhibition,
and may be reproduced many times.
The dance, the drama, music, mdiile-
color, give us a chance to live the life of
the artist for a few exalted momenta,
caught up in his ecstasy, feel his rapture,
and glimpse eternity.

PreMBOM plsiii in tlie plaee: ... a lUuh of the
will that eait, . . .

Bzltteitt bohlad aU laws: that made them, and,
lo, they aiel ...

until we say:

Well, It is gone at last, the palaee of aasie 1
reaied, . . .

I feel for the oonumm elu»d agaia, the 0 major
of this Ufa. ... *

Art is not concerned with life as life,
any more than mathematics is flowering
for astronomy or physics, but with that
essence of life which is in the ever-diang-
ing structure of tiie spirit. Art is not
primarily concerned with value,- tiiongh
values will be attached to its products,
just as to the produets of the intellect.
It is not the function of art to moralise,
but to set forth the character of spontane-
ous potentiality in the spirit When he
carved in stone Villon’s poem, Bodin ex-
pressed in “Tbe old courtesan” not the
miseraUe end of a misspent lif^ but “the
antithesis between the spiritul bdng
which demands endless joy, and the body

«B(awBlag, **Wag aad tha Baok.^'

■ Bnwnlag, *‘Abt Yoglae.’*

THE . IN ABT

543

wliieh waatM away, deeaya, and anda in
nothingnaaa.’** Art ia not oonoemad
arith penaltias but with oreatire acpreO'
lion. It aeisei and paaaes on to ns the
atruetore of pure form, the reality in
apirit. Knowledge may evolve from
atage to atage, but art oan not evolve. It
expand!, flowera in new bloaaoma, oreatea
new imiveraea.

Art it not anteeptiUie of intrisiic progreia.
From FUdiu to Bombraadt, there it morenuBt
but not progrett. The freocoe of the Sittine
Ohtpel tidu abtolntefy nothing from the metopee
of the Parthoion. Betmee your itept at far at
you like, — from the palace of Vereaillea to Hei-
ddberg OaaUe, frmn Heidelberg Oaatle to Notre
Dame of Paria, from Notre Dame of Paria to the
Alhambra, from the Alhambra to St. Sophia,
from St. Sophia to the Coloaaeum, from the Oclot-
aenm to the Propylaea, from the Propylaea to the
Pyramidt! you may go backward in centnriec,
you do not go backward in art. The Pyramidt
and the Iliad remain la the foreground.'

The events of art are the aspirations
of the spirit, and the invariants of such
events are hopes. They furnish a system
inherent in human life just as valuable
for profound study as the invariants of
the phenomenal world. When hopes are
organised into a wild bird of the spirit
ready for its flight, they become visions.
Through tiie centuries these have been
the dominating factor in the life of man,
not the fogs of his swamps nor the rain
of his tropics nor the crags of his fast-
nesses, nor the Uue-white sun of his
deserts. Through the acquisition of
knowledge we attach our tentacles to
what tilte psyche has made stable for it-
self. By the enchantment of the artist
in receive the power of new life. Art is
an offering of a sacramental communion
of one peracnality with another.

n. Mxthbiutics; Ci^tqb op
Fsobt-Fdowbbs

•

Sandbmig said poetry is the achieve-
mont of the synthesis of hyacinths and
biaonits, and we may read mathematics
of poetry^ boMuse mathmnatics is

sBodia.

Rigo, “flludcMpaan.’*

the child of the ereative power of tiie
artist and the crystallising power. Many
times mathematics has created new
worlds, and devdoped them intelleeta-
ally. Some forgotten genius saw tha ror
flection of ordinary numbers, and created
negatives, opening a vista to a new infl-
nite horison. Then another genius saw
an inflnite plane of wwlds of number all
radiating from the central sero; and a
century ago Hamilton saw this center
sparkling with rays in all directions.
Since that time the worlds of number
have bectnue inflnitdy numerous, and the
intellect has work for centuries. When
the school of Pythagoras stood appalled
before the flrst irrational known, they
little guessed the swarms yet to appear.
When a rebellions youth named Qalois
looked at the roots of equations, he saw
they were arranged as petals of more and
more intricate flowers, each made from
the conjugate sets of roots of special re-
solvent equations, each conjugate set
generated by a single irrational, the
whde furnishing a glowing eordla, a
unitary work of art. They were like sets
of dancers when the group of the equa-
tion began to act, going through patterns
tangled but describable in terms of a few
fundamental changes. The ddlant quin-
tie was tamed, and its twelve pentads, or
twenty triads, or thirty dyads, connected
together, gave all the recurring cy^es of
the dance. Some day we. niay see a
Ziegfeld producing the *'Danee of the
Quintic.”

When Lobatchevdiy created a new
world of space it did not take long to
create many other new worlds of space,
wortds bisarre to common sense. Thsy
furnish hundreds of crystallisations
called theomns, and have even suggested
to the Bckutist better patterns to hang
^is phenomena on. Four-dimensional
geometries and others have appeared, full
of latmt possibilities fbr new demgns for
artists. Indeed, much modem art is based
unccnscioosly mi such space hsErmonies.
Thqr spring evidently frmn a common

THE SCIBNTinC MONTHLY

sonroe, though ej^ressed in art forms or
studied by the intellect.

Bernoulli created expansiozu of func-
tions in powers of the argument, and
later Fourier in series of trigonometric
functions, but they did not see the host
of new and startlii^' functions thus bom
into the world. Their successors created
more worlds of functions, and the day
came when one such world called “wave-
mechanics” was all that was left of a defi-
nite character in modem physics. The
linear operators which furnish these ex-
pansions are intelleetual forms which
arise in the living transformations of the
spirit itself. Under their magic we see
the world of matter bending into new
shapes, and even if it is an inanimate
world these forms have an intrinsic
beauty of their own, which is what fasci-
nates the physicist. The study of these
operators shows that while change may
be expressed in an infinite and continu-
ous series of manifestations, yet in the
changing itself there may reside a per-
manent and stable essence, the stracture
of the operator itself, which is ultimate
reality. We finally see the entire collec-
tion of different iiutants simultaneously,
just as we visualize a differential equa-
tion by its field of characteristics, or just
as a musician can grasp a whole ^on-
phony as a single unit, a timdess form.
The futurists undertook to do the same
thing in painting for motion, presenting
together a succession of,different experi-
ences, thus suggesting the unified experi-
ence as a single undivided, whole. >

Eempe defined mathematics as the
science of pure form, and C. S. Peirce
as that subject which studies ideal 0(m-
stmctions. We might then be tempted
to consider all art as consisting of
' branches of mathematics. There would
be some justification for this in much
modem sculpture, painting and music.
But ^ must not forget the distinction
pointed out at first, between the two
modes of knowing, one studying the crys-

tallized product, tile otiier the prooess of
creating. Mathematics makes pearis, art
living tissue, ilrtists themselves are
sometimes confused as to what art is,
when they neglect this distinetiim. If
one studies the forms created Iqr mu-
sicians be is not then an artist He might
write a quite mathematical treatise on the
subject. Neither is he a musical artist if
he merely gives expression to what has
already appeared in a diffmrent form.

It is the function of the intelleot.ti>
examine the cold product of the ai!^^
and such study may deceive the istiident
into thinking he is studying art It is the
function of the intuition to seize the es-
sence of the creative act, to experience
directly the thrill of creation of coiurse,
but in the rich complex of emotions to
perspicate that which is not emotion nor
thought, but a permanent and abiding
reality, the very essence of the spirit as
it dissolves into a new seraphic body.

The question whether mathematics is
time, or whether a work of a painter,
poet, sculptor, musician or dancer is true,
is without much meaning. All it can
mean is an inquiry as to how far the form
of expression chosen adequatdy conveys
the artist’s dream. For instance, BIb-
mannian geometry is true, so* is Bn-
clidean. They are both creations. A
Gothic cathedral is true, so is the Bm-
pire State Building. The Moonlight
Sonata is true, so is the Bhapsody in
Blue. One does not ask whether an
orchid is true, though it does not resem-
ble a lily-of-the-valley. Both are expres-
sions of creative energy. One of the
delightful qualities of art is tiie variety
of ways in which the same ultimate real-
ity may be ezpres s ed. All the art, aU
the mathematics, all the seienoe in the
world could be destroyed, and humanity
would start the next day to produce
more, very liktiy utterly different firom
what has been b^ore, but yet just as true.
The reality in . mathematics is in the
spiritual energy looked up in its crystal-

THE BEAL IN ABT

545

linB floweri, and if tliay melt in l&e atm,
the same energy will flower “anew in other
fonna.

m. POBTET : CBEa.TOB Of
SniBNT SoNoa

Bea-Tiolini m moTing up the saadi,
Ourved bowB of blue and white are flaahing over
the pebbles;

Hear them attadc the chords: dark basseS; ris-
ing trebles,

Dimly and faint they croon, bine violins*

^^Buffer without regret,’’ they seem to cry,
^’Though dark your suffering, it may be music.

Waves of low sound that wash the midsummer

So»>Tioliu that nioTe aerow the laade."*

Poetry ia twiu-aister of mathematics.
Mathematics is wordless poetry, and
poetry is mathematics in words. Both
are essentially independent of the senses,
though botii use visible or spoken symbols
as a means of communication. While
mathematies talks largely in terms of
concepts, poetry talks largely in terms of
memories and images. The use of any
kind of language is symbolism, so both
use symbolism. Both speak in meta-
phors, for the particular statement made
is pregnant with meanings not stated.*
The significance flowers and fruits con-
tinually long after the first statement.
“Poetry is the arch from inspiration to
appreciation.”**

Poetry is somewhat more concrete than
mathematics, its Qonbols more associated
with actual living. In the quotation
above the endless beating of the sea, the
distant horison, the fladiing blue and
white, the music of the waves, the over-
mrehing sky, are symbols full of meaning
to those with experiences. The endless
beating of the years, the mysterious hori-
Kms whence time emerges, the aspira-
tions, tiie defeats of the days striking
against the hard unformed facts of life,
are rieh to those who have lived and open
far vistas to the young.

• Joba Gould notcbor, Bock,” p. 90*

• C/. Beott BQ^Uaaa, ”Poetry and Maibe-

uCBands CBunniin, ** Odette.”

Is it necessary to repeat the reality the
poet is living as he singsf This reality
is the underlying music, the symphony
which human life may be, despite the
daily monotony, the petty swash of the'
environment, the apparently inert peb-
bles played on by the ocean of circum-
stance. Is this symphony aiy less reality
than the ceaseless whirl of nebulae or the
pulsating ultra-microscopic f<^ called
dectronst Is it any less important to
point it out with an accompaniment of
emotitm which will carry it into the lives
of the readers as an effective force, than
to quote the latest cold statement about
the supposedly npanding universe f
Since the poet states his vision in words,
can we argue that the artistic form is
unnecessary t Not at all. The stark
philosophic statement has no living ap-
peal, is abstract, is part of an argument
which proceeds in straight lines to a con-
clusion. The poetic statement is “a suc-
cession of curves, the direction of thought
is not in straight lines, but wavy and
spiral. ”** There must be rhythm, order,
symmetry, harmony, unity and ideality,
themselves due to the characteristics of
the spirit when creating, as mentioned
above. The technique of the poet is part
of his art. If spirit knew how to pass its
creations consciously directly to other
spirit, technique and media of expression
would be unnecessary. The abstract
words alone fhil to convey the full mes-
sage of the poet. Abstraction gives at
best a gau^ illusion which simulates
reality. Intellectual comprehension is
an anatomist behdding a corpse. Intui-
tional appreciation touches the living
body.

What the artist does for us is to grow
an evanescent flower, blowing but a mo-
ment, fragile, yet the focus of an intense
■creativity. If the poet can so assemble
words that they catch us up into a whirl
of intense flame, make time cease to be,
external tilings to vanish, open an illumi-
nating insight to distant ides, emerge an
J. Q. FMoher.

546

THE SCIENTIFIO MONTHLY

ecstasy to carry the spirit up and up,
until life, the world, the self, everything
is seen by a supernal light and frran a
sublime height — ^then he is a perfect ar-
tist The limitations in doing this by
words only are heavy, the butterflies are
weighted down by their wings, and even
after these many centuries the poet has
not yet full command of his medium.
New visions appear and new modes of
writing poetry must be discovered. The
modem poet is not transcribing emotions
nor depicting bits of raw experience, but
is incarnating in a body of words those
spiritual forces which are cresting new
organisms out of the life of to-day, weld-
ing together new groups of humans, evok-
ing a new civilisation, a new humanity
which is not going to be crushed by the
machinery and the financial systems of
to-day; new forms of personality capable
of dominating the enormous material
power turned loose in past decades ; vic-
torious spirit flying freely over the mael-
strom of seething energy, and in the
cyclonic whirl of disorganisations gener-
ated in the chaos of war. Are there reali-
ties in art f The artist sees only realities
— realities which would drive man mad,
gaunt demons that haunt his soul, grin-
ning garg(^les that look out over the
tragedies in the city of civilisation, in-
sidious specters floating over the land-
scape bringing woes and desolation :
realities that man himself creates day by
day, wittingly or not; and also realities
that have the serenity of gods, joyful
Ariels of adventurous youth, triumphant
angels of a transfigured world. We are
in a creative renaissance, and one must
expect the dream-intoxicated artist to
find queer unusual forms for expressing
his coruscating life.

I WM taken sad eavdoped in a dond.

Wind! awoke and ealled me far away.

Now I ware a veiled farewdl
To the land! I knew and loved.

To the erimioa ennaet, reetiag far off on blaek
Bountaina,

'When there rises the fall moon

I dun sail rapidly in the waning Ui^

Hearing nndemeath au the billewy rarit

of spray.

Bnt the rridte dead, mindly erested.

Shot and throbUng with pale dre,

'Whirls me over inllaite ooeans

'Whieh the gates of baek-flnng snnaet let esaape.**

Dbsiu.: Cbxstqb w Invkiblb

' Rhtthxs

Poetry steps out on the stage in human
form, and becomes a mobile art, the
drama. Tragedy, comedy, religions rit-
ual, the first expression of man’s rriigion,
expanding through the ages into what we
see on the modem stage, commercialised,
cheapened, degraded, occasionally ethe-
realised, it remains a great art Mnidi of
the stage production to-day is of course
relaxation from the huriy-burly of
present-day life, taking us out of our-
srives for a little while — and indeed that
is one thing art is for — the drams may
point out serious problems in morals, may
initiate us into forms of life beymid our
reach, may take the place of the churrii,
may ^ the only means of recreation, but
it is none of these as a work of art: as art
it is a complicated form in which we see
expressed deep realities of the artist’s
spirit, those csdenced or brrimn eu-
rythms accompanied by passions. Ihis
becomes evident in some of the mod«m
abstract theatric art, often assisted by
the other arts to produce a complex form.
“Pell4as and M^lisande” in proper set-
tings, wilh Debussy’s wistful music,
brings mystery, exquisite beauty; mean-
ing too deep for woi^. ’’The Beggar on
Horseback” with its dream-like charac-
ter, fantastic stagCHWtting and lighting,
and acting not meant to be realistic but
metaphoric, expresses an innate beauty
which is hinted at in the inset pantomime.
’’Lysistrata, ” recently shown in very un-
conventional setting and acting, pur-
posely exaggerated in some ways, pre-
sents a fine example of Hugo’s runaik
that art never grows old.
u J. Q. Xlatelwr, **]Ua«k Be«k,”p. IS. ; '

THE BEAL IN ABT

Thoai^ th «7 may appear atartling,
daring, shocking, fantastic, unreal (what-
ever adjective may be used to indicate
that the aonl has been stirred out of drab
monotony), modem theatric art will no
doubt some day culminate in a work of
supreme beauty, holding immense audi-
ences breathless, spell-bound, silent,
swept out of time, infused with new
eurs^thm, seeing the spirit in a new pose,
with new poise, full of grace, abounding
personality, and with a vision of a glori-
fied new life for man.

IV. Abobiteotuse! : Cbeator of
Musical Cbtstals

Architecture is an art far removed
from the subtleties of mathematics and
poetry, for it deals with matter directly
in great masses, grouped into buildings,
usually designed for utilitarian purposes.
Here artist and engineer meet, and lately
the engineer has been the artist. We
might pause to consider whether archi-
tecture has the character we have insisted
upon, expressing realities of the human
spirit But it becomes evident that we
do have a definite reality appearing here,
which may be called the timelessness of
the spirit. The human race has always
fdt that there was an indestructibility in
tile spirit, and it has tried to express this
in towers of Babel, pyramids, gardens of
Babylon, temples, cathedrals, tombs. If
man were really convinced that he is but
a bubble poured by the Btemal Saki, he
would live in any kind of shelter that
would answer his needs. He would have
no incentive to contrive architectural
beau^. But he knows himsdf as outside
the flux of time, he feels his power to
build things that will last, since he has
himsdf the lasting quality, and his archi-
tectural products are qrmbolB of that
which is inadequately called '*his charac-
ter,’' In his buildizic^ he leaves a record
for his posterity of his aspiraticms.

Louis StdBimn says :

lIsB have wit lalt ihs OMd to bnUd. As they
built, tiwgr ssade, used, sad loft bahfad them ne-

oids of tiurir fUaklng. Then h throngk Uie
yean atm non eaau irith ehanged tiunights, so
arose new bnlldlngs in eonsonanee irttk tin
ehange of thought— the bnllding always the ex-
pressiott of the thinking. WIiateTer the ehar-
aeter of the thinking, just so was the ehanetar
of the building.

The architecture chosen for the world
fairs of to-day exhibits the character of
to-day. The new “sky-architecture” of
America is an mchibition of the new life
appearing in the western continent. It
is organic, arising out of the purpose it
has to fulfil. It is simple, stripped of
convention and usdess ornamentation.
Life has become that, conventions are dis-
solving, artificial taboos are laughed at,
and modem life in every way is becoming
more naked and unashamed. The sted
girders which support life are left visible,
glass w a ll s let light into living, and also
i^ow the world that what goes on inside
is nothing to be hidden. Modem archi-
tecture represents downright honesty
and simplicity. By the lavish use of
color and lighting effects it expresses the
joy in living. It exhibits those hidden
realities in the spirit of man which we
call organizing power, dominance of
mind over matter, arrest of decay. So
far as it transcends the organizations of
the past centuries it points out the essen-
tial character of our new civilization of
frankness.

Most of us recall the marvelous dream
of Bliel Saarinnen for the building vdiioh
should have represented the modem
newspaper as the daily expression of the
life and dreams of several millions of
people. Perhaps the present building
does that only too well 1 Is the poet right
when he says :

Though food be eeaMo aad driak be laeUag,
though labor be in revolt aad trade be deeUalag,
America will go on Hading its viaiona in the
. miat that haaga nnatirriag, though throu|^ pad
beyond it eome the loud eraah of wavea ^•w^g
Uie granite, beatiag like iaexoraUe dmma d
fate, aouadiag boom on boom; — ea eh one a
miaute-gna to mark the yean that muot dapoe
befon the moment of ita doom.u

i* J. O. Fleteher, “Breaken aad Oraaite."

548

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

We ma7 have hope, however, vdien we
surve 7 the newest architectnre, mam*
moth and massive as Ariaona buttes and
canyons, or slim and straight as it soars
into the slqr, reminding ns whmi in color
of the everlasting rock in the desert which
defies sun, time, wind, weather, petty een*
turies, and like the temples of we Grand
Canyon, the same yesterday, to-day and
to-morrow. We even fed in these struc-
tures that all the rackets, gangs, crime
and rotten polities of the cities can not
really destroy the life of the people, for
it is at bottom mammoth, massive, rich
in color and aspiring towards the light.

SOULFTUBE : CSEATOS OF SUEBPOTO

Bjeautt

Sculpture usee solid material to express
its vision of the realities of the inner life.
It waves a magic chisel and the princess
lies enchanted, motionless, until the
prince appears. Sometimes it is on the
side of a mountain or in a block of mar-
ble, or it may be a mass of wet day, even
a bit of carved ivory. The form may be
the Sphinx, an Aphrodite of some for-
gotten Greek, the “E[iss” or the ‘‘John
the Baptist” of Bodin, a bas-rdief of
Aristide Maillol, a distortion of Archi-
penko or an abstraction of Duchamp-
Villon. But in every instance the sculp-
tor is trying to put into the deep of three
dimeiuioiu a creation which comes from
his own eurythm, pose, poise, grace, per-
sonality or vision. In different sculptors
these realities may have different empha-
sis. When he sees man as the creator* of
his own body, a daily sculpture, the epit-
ome of all principles of art, he may put
into stone Browning's verses:

For pleasant is this fleili;

Our soul in its rose-mesh

Pulled ever to earth, still yearns for rest.

l<et us not always say
Spite of this flesh today

I stroTo, made head, gained ground upon the

whole.

The sculptor realises that the body fa

itself a manifestation of the spirit, the
creator which organises ehemieals into
human forms. So he has typified thou-
sands of limes in his statues of num and
woman, strength, power, defeat, vague
aspiration, sheer lovdiness. The daneer
fa arrested in her pose, yet showing the
rhythm, with the moment before still
warm, and the moment to come heard
breathing. The sculptor does not make
dead things, his statue fa deeping, not
lifdess. Presently it will stir, and new
life will emerge from the dreams of that
deep. He chooses a significant deep so
that the great fundamental invariants ot
spirit may be seen when in faandtory
motion they might be missed. He uses
his masses to convey properties of life;
life caught for a moment in repose, one
phase of the rhythm ever present And
when love inspires P3rmgalion Galatea
shall awake.

PuNTiNa: Cbbatob of Smomo

Liobt

We lose solidity in painting, thoo^
we may create the illudon of it, but vre
gain the subtlety of color, and the chords
of color we may strike from the prism.
The gain fa at the risk of a sense-reality
which may hide the spirit-reality that the
painting fa to exhibit A painting may
copy nature or wma aspect of humanity
so faithfully that it fa deceptive, and we
catch the scent of the flower in the Add
and start to speak to the person. It may
even become a perfect anatomical or
psychological study. Then its external
reality fa a will-o-the-wfap to lead ns into
the swamps of the subject. This fa so
great a danger that smne modem paint-
ers have avoided painting any subject at
all recognisable. Also the scene depicted
may stir our gympathies or our memories,
and we tell oumdves a tale, jovial <«
heart-breaking. This fa perhaps the
function of the novdfat, but it fa not vd>at
painting fa for. ”The Bakefa Progrem”
may be a good snmon, but it fa not fear

THE BEAL IN ABT

549

that reaaon good painting. Then again
a painter may have such extraordinary
with hie brush and palette that he
imitatee flesh or tapestry almost per-
fectly, but mere dexterity does not pro-
duce a work of art. It may make a
shadow photograph in color which re-
minds us of the original and which we
love to look at and to live with. But this
is not the purpose of painting.

If one studies the wonderfully flowing
lines, the balanced curves, the unified
composition in Georgia O’Keeffe’s “Lake
George’’ he cares little what lake it is or
if it is a lake at all. In her “Cos-Cob’’
there is no intelligible story, but the mas-
terly placing of musical ripples and flow-
ing winds is a study of the eurythm and
the grace of the spirit itself. And in her
“Music — black, blue, and green’’ she has
made the spirit itself visible in an act of
creation, in color and composition that
sings. In these paintings there is little
to distract us from perceiving the reality.
We have a view of beauty herself veiled
in diaphanous gause. In the last-men-
tioned there is even a glimpse of ecstasy,
an all too rare reality, yet vividly real
and abiding once attained.

The painter uses colored spaces and
lines of drawing, but th^ are passed
through the magnetic field of his esthetic
personality and come out curved into
more than color and line. There is added
what artists call “the fourth dimen-
sion,*’ a term borrowed from mathe-
matics. The forms are idealised in a
sense similar to the mathematical sense,
not in the omamentalising sense. This
kind of idealisation is a perspioation of
the essence of the form, and vivifying it
into a body for the spirit-reality. When
this takes place it may happen that there
is introduced a distortion from what
would be ejcpected in a naturalistic, un-
idealistifi painting of “things as they
are.” But this is often necessary in
order to produce the expreaaiim desired.
Whatevw one outy think of paintings in

which parts of objects, geometric figures
and other fragments are placed in (gueer
positions on the canvas, after all it fa not
very different from the mathematician’s
various projections of a four-dimensional
object, itself a unit to. be synthetfaed
from its projections.

The highest outcome of the progress of
painters in handling color is shown in
“Synchromy,” an attempt to express by
color-compositions with no definable
shapes, the realities of the artist’s spirit.
Morgan Buasdl ’s ’ ’ Synchromie Cos-
mique” is an example. He says of it “a
spiralic plunge into space, excited and
quickened by appropriate color contrasts,
is designed to get rid of definite objects
to intensify color rhythms, and thus em-
phasize the innate beauty.” When one
hears these songs harmonized on the
melodies of light, he comes to the very
spirit of beauty. He might intellectual-
ize them and would find therein a struc-
ture very like many things already in
mathematics; and he could state theo-
rems and might thus convince the intel-
lectual critic that they surely hold real-
ity. But a wild rose is something more
than a dihedral group of order ten, and
synchromy is more than a kaleidoscopic
moment. The spiralic plunge into the
scarlet mockery of weakness, gray mid-
winter smd dead dreams, violet memories,
green pastures, orange conflicts of the
spirit with itself, black whirlpools of
struggle and failure flecked with golden
sparks of illusions, out into blue depths
and mysteries, through the golden eity of
art, to the white unattainable perfee-
tion,^* swept along on the cosmic winds —
shall we reach the ultra-violet ecstasy the
spirit passionately longs fort

Col(»-Mc8io : Obextob or Bam-
Bow Phsmtoxs

We are led inevitably to the considera-
tion of the orchestration of color just as

M See preface to J. O. Vletdier, "GobUBS and
Pagodas."

550

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

sound is oi^Aiiued into miuic. TlieclaYi*
lux and similar instruments for tiie im>-
duetion of mobile color, one of the newest
arts, has been made possible by the devd-
Opment of electric lighting in all its
forms. Before a performance of this
organ one sits in silence, entranced by a
new world, space and time have yanished,
old ideas are gone. We see the birth and
vanishing of creative forms in marvdous
colors, almost actual spirits. It is a cos*
mic art, for it has flung a net over the
Aurora, the only thing nature produces
like it. It is very complex, for there are
tints corresponding to musical tones, but
of a far greater range of nuances. There
are values for which music has no coun-
terpart. There are intensities, odor mel-
odies, polyphotic effects, counterpoint.
When we have many such instruments
combined into modem simultaneous art
we might conclude there is no art supe-
rior to this. It carries all possibilities of
abstraction, all the spiritual qualities of
light itself. It does not represent objec-
tive things. It is the essence of esthetic.
There are no copies of nature, however
lovely ; no story condensed to the simplest
tabloid ; no suggestiveness by hinting at
something uqeeen; no B}rmbolism for
something else. We have sublimated art
with no background to distort our vision.
We have the unique experience of the
wondering child seeing his universe as a
fredi, living, changing meadow of flow-
ers. We witness the<flrst act of creation
under the command, ‘*Let there be
light.” And there is. light in many
senses, for in the study of these rainbow
phantoxns we come to see in an unob-
stracted view the kind of reality the
artist is setting before us, a new port of
mathematics indeed, with its very dis-
tinct and vivid spiritual fusings that take
the place of material relations. Some
day there will be written the great treat-
ise on “Harmony and Counterpoint of
Color-Music,” an account of the struc-
ture of intoxicating beauty of the most

spiritual kind. And a coming Beetiioveii
will create ormphouies surpassing any-
thing the world has yet seen.

V. Mumo : Cbbstob of ETaxanaij

FnowxBs

Boom I and the deep-toned note of the
big bdl drifts away under the curved
roof of the temple, and ripples against
the golden curtain, dang 1 frmn all the
gongs, and the golden veil is rent, dis-
closing a “naked, rose-empurpled god,
rippling with crimson-violet lifl^t.””
The artist feds something has been bom
of him. These instantaneous waves of
sound in a harmonic instant give a pic-
ture in tone. They are static, but they
awaken echoes in the soul from both past
and future. Music itself, however, is not
static; it is a mobile art given to the
world centuries ago when man learned
how to control sounds long before he
learned how to control light. Music was
bound to come as the natural outlet of the
eur3rthm in his spirit, though the flrst
great art was dancing.

“The secret of music is the secret of
all art.”'* It is called an abstract art
like mobile-color. There is no subject-
matter, it tells no story, there is nothing
objective save a few ungnessed ripples of
invisible air. It passes away with the
playing, can not be placed in a museum,
nor hung in a salon. It shows very
dearly the aynthetuing power of the
pqrche, for it consists objeetivdy of noth-
ing but sequences of many simultaneous
sounds, yet these are organiaed into a
single unit The entire omnposition,
however much time may be ne c es sa ry for
its execution, is a single work of art
Then too the spirit of music, even more
subtle, is not in the sounds at all, but yet
is the essential i>art. Hence it may be
called an abetract art, but that does not
mean intdlectnally abstract Husidans
mean the opposite of sensuously eonorete,

u J. O. TMeker.

MOdln “amuwis.”

THB TtmATi IN ABT

651

and arthatiaally abitraet, not philoaopM-
oally. Yet beMxue of its ‘very tennons-
BflM it appeal* to more persona than any
other art. Plato says : “Mnsie gives sotd
to the universe, trings to the mind, flight
to the imagination, a charm to sadness,
gaiety and life to everything. It is of
the essence of order, and leads to all that
is good, just, and beautiful, of ‘which it
is the invisible, but yet dasading, passion-
ate and etemtd form.”

Music is the ezpreasiou of such pro-
found realities as personality with its
thousand fascinating varieties, persis-
tent, free, creative and immortal, 'the
phoenix ever rising from its ashes.
These are inflnite terms whose content
has been declared to be nil. But in this
art we And direct experience of these
realities, not as concepts, constructs nor
conclusions. Music represents the con-
tinuity in spirit, its fusion with other
spirits, its intuition of itsrif as individ-
ual. It is the complete expression of
pure personality. It is the expression of
the ineffably divine. It is the expression
of our awareness of the spiritual uni-
verse in whose ambient atmosphere yn
ll've and move and have our being. In
music man expresses his appreciation and
understanding of his ultimate goal. This
explains the intimate mixture of music
and religion, whether we And it in
Brahms or in Ootmod. Music is a power
which lifts us on the ‘wings of asjMration
into that empyrean vhose crystal air and
ethereal light is beyond all reach of the
transient, the phenomenal, the cease-
lesriy and vanishing. Through

musks we reach the world of truth which
Ihe mystic finds, “even as the waters of
the infinity ocean send their waves to
break among the pebbles that lie upon its
aheres.**^^ Ckmsider the prdude to
Lcdiengrin. It has been said that Bee-
thoven wrote the Ninth Symphony to
iphftit the eidateaee of Ckid. Beethoven
hhnadfaaidh^ Sonata Appaaaionata'was
Shakeaipeare’s “Tempest.”

xfWUiiamfsBas.

Idke all arts musie has expanded and
tried to get away from eon'ventiions and
canons whose only source of authorily is
their age. It has attempted to find more
freedom in new ways of expression so as
to set forth profounder apiritual reali-
ties. The names of Stra‘vinsky, Schoen-
berg, Varese, Casella, Falla are well
known, even ^ough they have not accom-
plished all they had in their souls. Back
of these are Strauss, Debussy and Bavd
with others. They have tried to produce
sheer music, free from the usual attach-
ments, symphonies corresponding to the
synchromies of the painter, 'with the
added dimension of time. 'Whatever the
music of the future may be with new
modes of expression we know that it will
be powerful in the lifb of man.

VI. DsNomo : Cnurrat or Badumv

Youth

Pom, pom, pom, the drum is sounding,
and on the Imrd ground of the New
Mexican 'village the thud of dark feet,
accompanied by the chant of Indian
'voices, is dancing the seed down, down,
do'wn, into the ground 'with all the trans-
ferred energy of the Indian soul to make
it grow, sprout and fruit plenteonsly.
Some day the blue, red, yellow and white
grains will give back more energy. Dur-
ing the whde day “Winter” and “Sum-
mer” have alternated dances increasing
in vigor, becoming “an organic paean of
praise of life.” The powerful rhythm
even gets into the blood of the spectators
with its movement, vitoating color and
intense spiritual fire.

The stage is dim, and the Uadk vdvet
curtain at the back hangs in long f olfis
that lead up into the top. There gUd4
out upon t^ boards a piece of floating
thistledown, which begins to weave pat-
terns in the spotlight, back and forth, in
graceful curves, a body as fieziUs as a
wisp of mmt.

Moie ihsa the lipgle d gram esA watm fiowiag,

ICON than the paathar^ gnea,

Or Uly awrad ly wiada fram aaaaet Uewiag, . . .

652

THE SCIENTIPIC MONTHLY

; •

An eraneaeent pattern on the eight . . .
Beauty that Urea an Instant to beeonM
A riater beauty and a new delight.

Through you the past is ours,

Through you the future flowers,

Through you we And again
That birth of bliss and pain,

That thing of joy and tears and hope and laugh-
ter

That men eall youth.

Danee on, translating ns the mortal’s guess
At Beauty and her immortality, —

Tonrself your flesh-dad art and lorelineas.i*

The dance is over, the stage is dark
again. Then the spirits of the aurora
begin to play, formless, glowing with
such color as conveys subtlety, all the
intricacies of the wistful dreams of man,
‘’the imprisoned essence of the winds,
varicolored lightning, fairy forests, the
laughter of spring and the golden browns
of autumn"** — sighs, hopes, dreams, as-
pirations, wraiths of beauty in the mak-
ing. Into the vaporous light there wind
low threads of music — such music as
Bavel could write for a fairy dance — and
home on the haunting strains dancers
float m, drenched in color, glowing with
light, and all the radiant beauty of un-
veiled spirit is visible, exquisite, en-
wrapped with poignant sound, expressed
in the most perfect of all media art could
use: the human body in the sway of a
creative artist. Through all the music,
the color, grace, shines the greatest of all
reality — eternal youth. Gan art surpass
this in any other wayl
Dancing may become again what it was
originally, the exptessibn for the‘ re-
ligion innate in man. Here is a stage,

u George Sterling, “To a Girl Baaeing.’’
w Sheldon Oheney, “A Primer of Modem
Art.”

half-way up a hill, set against the sly.
The Prophetess sits brooding ovor the
sins and the suffering of the wmrld; be-
low her feet the milling, toiling mob of
humanity ebbs and flows, suffering, lov-
ing, hating, battling, a chaos of emoti<nis.
The Prophetess asemids to the heights
invoking the higher powers. In a flash
of iHumination the Powers above remind
her man is the child of qiirit not matter.
This message she conveys to the dis-
tracted masses, a little at a time, till all
have joined in one great spiral praise,
the dance of cosmic harmony. This is
Buth St. Denis in her new program.
When will she be seen in “The Beati-
tudes," "Babylon Is Fallot," and "The
Woman and the Dragon"? Will this be
the form the churrii of the future will
have?

Thus the danee ctnnpletes the ojrde of
the arts, and comes badk to its beginning
in one of the great vortices that sweqt
the soul of man along the ages — tiie dd-
est of the arts, using the human body
alone, the most perfect as the most difll-
cult of media. The grand orchestral
qrnthesis of resources of all the arts,
modem dance in modem dance-composi-
tions will give a magnificent, overwhelm-
ing, complex interpretation in art to man.

All dmau that Hope has pnasiMd Lore

All Beauty he has sought la vala.

All J<ty hdd moo aad lost agaia.so

For man is the gorgeous, newly emerged
psyche, drying his wings for an everlast-
ing flight through the eternity of beauty,
over the ocean whose singing blue is the
harmony of the spheres, following tiie
radiant sun. The artist sees realities
onlyl

*oG. Storllng;

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY?

By Dr. ARCHIB J. BAHM

ABOISTANV raOFBBWn Of PlIILOBOPHT, ItZAB TBOBNOUMnOAL OOUJHB

PhUiOBOPht is Been differently through aim here is to set forth a few fnnda-
different eyes. Some see it as good, mentals. Appreciation will follow nn>
Some see it as bad. To some it is mys- derstanding.
terious.

The good view comes, naturally, from One of the most difficult questions
its appreeiators ; the bad and the mysteri- which a philosopher or teacher of philoso-
ous from those who fail to understand it. phy has to answer is : “What is philoso-
The blame for these latter views rests phyt" “The word,” a student tells us,
partly upon the inherent nature of phi- “is one of those elusive abstractions
losopby— its impenetrability to the un- which, rabbit-like, always barely escapes
initiated — ^partly upon those professors capture and definition. It means a vari-
of philosophy who glorify themselves by ety of things to a variety of p^sons.
appearing in a doak of mystery or who Bach man you questioned would stop,
are too impatient to lead the novice step meditate and give you another defini-
by step, but most of all upon those im- tion.”

patient seekers who wish in a moment A perusal of current attempts to define
what can be had only in an hour. philosophy would confirm this student’s

The of the estimation of view. The differences between defini-

philosophy is well worth viewing. A tions offered by contemporary spedaliats
student informs us: “The term ‘philoso- are not merely verbal — ^they are real,
phy’ conveys to most people a vagueness The “basicness” of these differences will
and uncertainty. The layman is igno- be demonstrated in a moment. First, a
rant of its aiwm and the popular impres- word about method,
sion is that it is a collection of high-flown. No attempt will be made to define

words and phrases on useless philosophy— to confine philosophy to the
subjects.” Such a view is not without limits of a single sentence. What follows
foundation, but it is a foundation of fail- will be a description, not a definition,
ure. The grapes are sour to those who Four distinguishable components are
can not reach present in philosophy. A description of

MysterionsT “Philosophy is a mys- all four is necessary for a complete de-
tedouB subject,” says 0. J. Ducasse. soription of philosophy, even though
Yet philosophy is no more mysterious many definers neglect, and others deny,
tiiAfi agronomy, astrophysics, ethnog- the importance of some of these compo^
raphy, seismology or any other subject nents. What are the four components t
with which one is not familiar. The un- Philosophy is a kind of attitude, a kind
known is mysterious. And while phfloso- of method, a group of probleme and a
phy does deal with the unknown, its mys- group of theories. Not all attitudes are
twy comes mainly from ignorance and philosophical attitudes. Not all methods
unfamiliarity. a^w philosophical methods. Not all prob-

Fhilosophy is good— to those who un- lems are philosophical problems. And
derstand it Ydumes of praise testify not all theories are philosophical theories,
to its value. But praise of philosophy is Philosophy as an attitude and method
no proper part of this essay. Bather the is emphasised by Brightman and Barrett.

663

654

THE SOIENTIFIO MONTHXiT

Says Brightnum ! ‘‘Philosophy is essen*
tiaily a spirit or method of approaching
experience, rather than a "body of oontdu-
sions about experience.”^ Rejoins Bar*
rett: ‘‘It is not the specific content of
these eondusions, but the spirit and
method by which they were reached,
which entitles them to be described as
philosophical.”* Ducasse apparently is
willing to confine philosophy to method
when he says: ‘‘Were 1 limited to one
line for my answer to it, I should say
that philosophy is general theory of
criticism.”*

Emphasis upon philosophy as problems
or theories, on the other hand, appears
in Leighton’s definition: ‘‘Philosophy,
like science, consists of theories or in-
sights arrived at as a result of systonatie
refiection.”* For Maritain, as for Her-
bert Spencer, ‘‘Philosophy is concerned
with everything, is a universal science.”*
To this Sellars adds: ‘‘Our subject is a
eoUeetion of sciences, such as theory of
knowledge, logic, cosmology, etiiics and
aesthetios, as well as a unified survey.”*
Any student of the history of philosophy
will testify that problems and, especially,
theories are what one seeks in philosophy.

Regardless of the varying emphases,
and in spite of the genuine differences,
is contempmary definitions of philooo-
phy, philosophy can be described. It
shall be described as being constituted of
all four eomponenta, not of any one or
two alone. Let us consider each in turn.

m i Vi

What is the phUosophietd attitude f
Certainly not all attitudes are philosoph-
ical attitudes. For example, attitudes of

joy, of jealousy, of despair, of fear or of

8. Brightouai, *'lBtrodiietioa to Philos-
ophy,” p. 7.

* Clifford Buistt, “ndlosophy,** p. v.

■ 0. 3 , Doeosss, *'PhilotopIiy of Ait,” p. S.

* 3 . A. Leii^toa, ”Tlw Pldd of Philowii^,”

Mooad edition, p. 8.

■ J. Uarits^ "latrodnotion to PhOosorinr,”

p. 108.

«B. W. Sellan, ''Piineiples and Piohloiiis of
Ihilosophy,” p. 8.

intblwanee are not philosophioal. Pen-
scms who are at times philosophical vasty
also have these attitudes, but when they
do have them they are not philoaophioaL
The philosophical attitude can best be
characterised by nine words or phrases:

Troubled, perplexed, wondering, mii-
losophy begins in wondnr. It begins in
perplexity. It begins in curiosify. There
must be a problem. An untroubled atti-
tude is not a philosophical attitude.

Reflective. Merely being confronted
with a problem does not constitute a
philosophical attitude. The problem
must be thought about, pondered over,
and a solution attempted.

Doubting, undogmatic. He who would
be philosopUcal must be able to entertain
doubts about his beliefii. Reflection with-
out willingness to doubt accepted beliefs
can hardly be considered philowphieal.

Open-minded, tolerant. One with a
philosophical attitude will be not merdy
undogmatic about his own beliefs, but
open-minded and tolerant about the be-
lief of others. He will give every bdief
a hearing, and will not oondonn without
reason.

WUUng to be guided by experience and
reason. Since, with regard to moat
fundamental problems, the facts are not
all in, the philosophic attitude is one
which is charactorised by a willingneas
to discard present beliefii and to accept
new ones if new facta of exparioice de-
mand a change. By reasoning logically
about problems we often find that certain
of our bdiefi must be g^ven up if others
are to be hdd. The philosoifiiieal atti-
tude is one which accepts the guidance
of logical reascming.

Uncertainty, suspended fudgmont.
The philosophical attitude involves will-
ingneei to remain uncertain about any
and every question c<mceming which the
evidence is not dl in. The irihlilcsopher
is willing to suspend judgnhnt as loii^ im
conclusions are not wsmutisid.

BpecuUdiv^ .BeUeving as wtfil as
doubting ehsraeteriass tim

WHAT IS PHTLOSOPHTt

555

attitude. Bven thoogli the facts are not
dl in, thore is alTnym an attempt to
achieve a satisfactory solution in the
lig^t of the facts that are in. Tentative
solutions are sought after. It is a believ-
ing attitude, vrithout being a dogmatic
attitude, that is, it is speculative.

Persistent. Philosophy is a persistent
attempt to solve problems. A momen-
tary doubt or speculation does not make
a philosopher. The philosophical atti-
tude is an outgrowth only of a long
period of reflective thinking. Philoso-
phy is a quest for understanding which
refuses to be discouraged by difficulties —
is '*an obstinate effort to think clearly.”
It is not so much intelligence, as patience,
which prevents the average man from
becoming philosophical.

Unemotional. The philosopher is noted
for his “cool calm reflection.” It is a
disputed point whether any attitude can
be free from emotion. At any rate, the
philosophical attitude is one in which
emotion is at a minimum and reason at
a maximum. As philosopher, one does
not love or hate, like or dislike. One
simply seeks to comprehend, to under-
stand.

Whal is the phUosophioal method f It
is the method of reflection. Beflection is
not peculiar to philosophy, for every
science must employ it also. But most
scienoes, in addition, employ experi-
mental methods. Philosophy is not
averse to experiment, but its problems,
fur ^ most part, are sudi that they do
not permit of e^;>erimentation. The
philosopher, like the mathematician (the
qiost exact scientttt), usually pursues his
wuy witiio^ a labontory, though he is
qdck to smtiniie the p^ucts of the
lahomtoriai of others. Being limited,
titn% to tho BMithod of reflection, the phi-
iMoiMMr ought to become an expert in it
Jii»d indeed ||0 is. Bvm the method of
reflection it|leV km become ea object of
III ttnd the result is the

liltilh inetiiodeltetie^ scimiee, logic.

Details of logical methods are out of
place here. It is sufficient to iqention
that at bottom stands an ixuristenoe upon
consistency, the principle of non-contra-
diction. ^l^en two assertions are cohtra-
dictoiTi obviously, one of them must be
false. Again, there is the principle ot
implication. When one assertion implies
another, it can be validly deduced that if
the flrst be true, the second must be true
also. Upon these principles is elaborated
a system of “necessary truths” about
method. He who is master of these is
indeed a master of thought.

It is common practice far philosophers
to probe their problems in two directions,
which we may call analytic and synthetic.
By way of analysis, they “divide up their
difficulties,” in the words of Descartes,
and tadde each one separately — pressing
it down to its ultimate premises. So im-
portant is this procedure that 0. H.
Langford has ventured to say that “phi-
losophy consists in ostentation,” t.«.,
philosophy is the darifleation of concepts
to their minutest detail. It is the method
of Socrates, who went about humbly ads-
ing questions, seeking simply to get a
dear answer. Synthesis, on the other
hand, is pursuit of the whole. Parts
never stand alone. Th^ are always
parts of a whde. Thus, in order to com-
prehend a part completdy, one must
comprehend its whole. He cannot under-
stand a spoke, who has never seen a
whed.

What problems ore philosophical prob-
lemst To ask “How far is it from Mew
York to Londmit” is not to adc a philo-
Bophioal question. But to adt “What is
distancet ” or “What is spaoet” is to ask
a philosophical question.

“Do you know whether it will rain
to-moitowt”— a question of no philo-
sophical importance. But “What is
knowledge t”-— a questitm most basie in
philosophical inquiry.

“Is ft true that aU swans are whitet”
This may trouble the aodogist, but not

556

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

the philosopher. But '‘What is trutht”
Here the philosopher is deeply con-
cerned.

"Is it a fact that Caesar is dead!" or
"Is it a fact that two plus two equals
fourt" These are concerns of the his-
torian and mathematician. The philoso-
pher wants to know "What is a factt"

"What time is itt" — ^not a question
for philosophy. But "What is timet" —
a question of great interest.

"Is the shirt you are wearing the same
one which you sent to the laundryt"
Philosophers ignore such questions. But
"What is samenesst" The philosopher
would like to know.

"Are the Niagara Falls beautiful!" —
a question for sightseers. The philoso-
pher wonders "What is beautyt"

"Is it wrong to commit bigamy in the
United States t" — a problem for jurists.
Philosophers inquire "What is the na-
ture of rightness and wrongnesst"

"What is your purpose in reading this
essay T" — a private matter. But "What
is purpose!^’ and "Does the world have
a purpose t * ’ Upon these the philosopher
ponders long.

The above samples, pairs of related
questions — ^the one philosophical, the
other not-— should reveal that philosoph-
ical questions are always general. Ques-
tions concerning particular things do not
constitute philosophical problems. When
a philosopher seems to be pussling about
a particular, he k really seeking a gen-
eral — a most general — ^principle exhib-
ited in that particular.

If we are to survey with any degree
of completeness the problems included in
philosophy, we shall have to go beyond
mere samples and to classify them- sys-
tematically. For purposes of dassiflca-
tion, philosophical problmns may be di-
vided into two important groups: those
which constitute the so-called phUosoph-
iedl sciences and those which constitute
philosophy as a eompr^entioe scienoe.

The PhUotophieei Beieneee: Philoso-

phy containB within its broad d<«iain
several more or less well-devdoped
subject-matters which are properly called
sciences, although thsy have not been
received by all as sciences of full stature.
Bach prolm a basic question, the answer
to which is essential to a complete ac-
count of the world and of life. Each

examines a phase of experience as dis-
tinct and as fundamental as the so-<»lled
non-philosophical sciences. What, tiien,
are the philosophical sciences, and with
what problems is each concerned t

Logie, as already noted, is the science
of the methods of reflection. This is the
most basic discipline in all philosophy
and in all science — more basic even than
mathematics, which rests upon logical
foundations. What principles are pre-
supposed in valid inferences t What fal-
lacies commonly occur in thinking , and
how may they be avoided! What deduc-
tions are possible from any given state-
ment ! And how tmstwor&y are induc-
tions foom any spedflc set of data!

Epistemology is an inquiry into the
nature of knowledge and truth and cer-
tainty. Close to psychology in sime of
its phases, epistemology ponders the
problem of the relation of knowing to
that which is known. Is an idea of a
mountain like a mountain! It is not like
it in sise; for the idea is within one’s
head, but the mountain is larger than the
head. It is not like it in stuff, for the
mountain is made of granite and soil and
sand and snow; but there is little of these
in the normal head. It is not Iflte it in
shape ; for the mountain has three dimen-
sions, though seen in only two, and the
mountain has numerous ridges and ra-
vines, the idea only a few. It is not like
it in duration; for the mountain endures
for thousands of years, the idea for tite
flash of a second. How, tben,.is hnord-
edge like its object!

MetapJvyeiee investigates many iprah-
lems, all rtiated to the general qtMstion
"What is the nature of beingf*’

WHAT IS PHTLOSOPHYt

557

out tronUiag to dwtingoish between the
enbdivisioni, ontology and ootmology, let
08 review some of the many metaphysical
^neetiona : How many kinds of being are
weret How can a universe be both one
and manyt What are the most basic
characteristics of being t What is timet
What is spacef What is substancet
What is a relation! What is a causet
What is a faott What is samenesst
What is purposet What is change!
What is novelty! Is the world deter-
mined! Is the world purposive! Is the
world progressing! Is there a Qod!

Axiology is the science which asks
about value. What is the nature of
good! What is the nature of bad!
What are the kinds of value! Naively
the child thinks the candy bar good.
And later, when sated, thinks it bad.
Are goodness and badness in candy bars,
or in the thinking ! When a baker bakes
a loaf of bread, be says it is good for
health. Health is good for steady work.
Work is good for making money. Money
is good for lots of things. But is there
something that is good for nothing except
itself! That is, is there something which
is just good, without being good for
something!

Eihiet examines the right and the
wrong. Popular notions identify ethics
with oommandments : “Thou shalt” and
“Thou shalt not” But no sdenoe ever
emnmanded or preaehed. As a science,
ethics investigates. It wants to know
how to determine when an act is right.
What is obligation! What is duty!
What is conscience! What is justice !

Etthetioo asks two questions: “What
is beauty!’’ and “What is art!’’ That
titese two questions, often confused, are
dkitinet is obvious. Pmr some beauty is
beauty of nature, not of art. And to
SCRBS art is ugly, not beautiful. Both of
tkttM oueitioiit ah aiisw6r« A

picture may be bewitiful to one, ugly to
another. Where then is beauWt In the
<*eye“ of the bdhdder! On the canvas!
Ot* sMasuhefe else! ^ving settied this

question, the esthetieian is troubled a
greater: What are the essential charac-
teristics of beantyt That is, what is it
that all beautiful objects or experiences
have in common! There is beanly' in
music, painting, poetry, drama, sculp-
ture, architecture, costumes, the dance,
sunsets and women. All have something
in common. What is it!

Philosophy of BeUgion is a branch of
philosophy which inquires into the na-
ture of religion. Phflosophy of religion
is not religion. Bather, it is a science
which seelm to understand. The nature
of religion — a very important factor in
every normal life — ^needs to be under-
stood. It is the philosopher, mainly, who
grapples with this question. There are
many great religions : Christianily,
Brahmanism, Buddhism, Confucianism,
Taoism, Shintoism, Judaism, Moham-
medanism. If all these be religions, do
they have something m common! Is
there an essence of religion which is to
be found in all! If so, what is it!

To this array of philosophical sciences,
many more might be added. PotitiaA
and social philosophy is relativdy impmr-
tant, but with the development of politi-
cal science and sociology as separate dis-
ciplines, questions of the nature and
purpose of social and political organisa-
tions is being left to them more and more.
Philosophy of education, which seeks to
understand the ultimate purpose of edu-
cation, is being handled at present largely
by educational specialists. PhUosopky
of history, which attempts to interpret
history, not merdy in terms of political,
sodal and econcnnie processes, but iu
terms of cosmic processes— what is the
place of the history of man in the picture
of the universe— is a Add yet rdativdy
undeveloped. Other minor proUems of
philosophy must not detain us here.

Philosophy as a oomprehonswe soteaoe.
The philosophical sciences do not mdiaust
the problems which c<afront the philoso-
idiw. The best known, and perhaps most

558

THE SOIENTIflO MONTHLY

important, problema of philoaoi^y are
atiU to be eoziaidered. In three waye,
philosophy functions as a oomprehensive
science : it criticiaes the sciences, it iyn>
thssizes the sciences, and it is the
''mother" of the sciences.

The scimices, physics, chemistry, Inol-
ogy, psychology, sociology, astroncnny,
etc., stand in ne^ of ortiteums. These
criticisms are of two sorts: criticisms of
presuppositions and criticisms of condu*
sions. Each science makes presupposi-
tions which, if examined carefully, may
be found to be untenable. To philosophy
falls the task of careful examination.
Again, each science makes presupposi-
tions which, when compared with the
presuppositions of othmr sciences, may be
found to contradict them. And each
science eventually arrives at conclusions
which, when compared to the conclusions
of other sciences, may be found to con-
tradict them. To philoB(9hy falls the
task of comparing assumptions and con-
clusions.

There are many pretuppontiotu which
scientists naturally and normally make.
Some examples: Things exist in space
and time. The objects of knowing are
independent of their being known. Be-
lations exist. Facts exist. True belief
is possible. Things are really separate.
Assumptions so obvious as these com-
monly pass unquestioned. But at times
trouble appears because of them. The
problem of examining them for the
sciences becomes the eoneem of philoso-
phy. Also, when different seienees malri
contradictory assumptions, philosophical
problems arise. So long as a scientkt
keeps within his own field, he encounters
little difficulty. Being occupied by the
trrables with his own details, he usually
fails to discern the implications of his
assumptions for other fields of seimice.
An illustration should make this clear :

PhysicistB, biologists and psyohologista
tend to assume that every effect must
have a cause. That is, nothing hap-
pen without being caused to happen In
the way that it did happen. A.b^yfalls

toward the earth instead (ff away firam
it because of gravitation. One's eyes ire
blue instead of yellow because of definite
hereditary structures. A child is afraid
of oats because he has been negatively
c<mditioned by previous experience. For
these sciences, the "law of cause and
effect" holds universally.

But jurisprudence, ethics and re-
ligion, on the other hi^, presuppose the
contrary. That is, not everything must
have happened in the wsy that it did.
People are free to choose. They are pre-
sented with alternatives. They may
select the <me or the other without inevi-
table compulsion. Punishment is in-
flicted on the assumption that the law
violator deliberately chose to vidate.
The young and the insane are exempt
because they are not normal ethical
beings. But the normal man is free to
choose. If this were not a basic assump-
tion, surely our laws would be writtmi
differently. Ethical codes are founded
on the belief that a man can dioose to
follow them or not He can do right ^
he can do wrong. If it were not so, no
man could be held blameworthy, and no
man could be immoral. Few are the fd-
lowers of Socrates who said, "No man
can do wrong vduntarily."

Religious salvation is a matter of will-
ing. "Believe and thou shalt be saved."
Heaven and hdl are alternatives. The
sinner must choose. But iohi<A alterna-
tive is a matter tat him alone to decide.
His will is not determined. Itore the
"law of cause and effect" is nes^eeted,
ignored, denied.

Allowing for exceptions which occur to
the alert B is still true in general that
these two ctmtradiotory asnnaptimis are
basic to different fld& of ei^laaation.
Such a contradietioa can not stand in a
final picture of the worid. No scienoe Is
complete which can not fit Itself into the
eondusimis of other sdmees.* To wiu
this dear is one of the difficult tails eit
philosoidiy.

C<mehuian$ tff adsneas, lihe thnit is*
snmptimts, occasional eMtirsdihd. Hi;

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHyf

550

sUitlMnutiei it it aa aeoapted prindple
that 1 -f 1 B 2 «ui that lx -f Iz s 2z. By
MflMtioB alone the mathwaatician ar>
lived at thia eoneloaion.

Phyaiciata have ohoaen an ezperim«ital
method to determine the apeed of light
and have eoneluded that approzimatdy
186,300 milea per aecond is the faateat
poaaible apeed. Now if light wavea are
traveling in two oppoaite directiona from
a aouree, at what apeed are they aepa*
rating f At the apeed of light, or at
twice the apeed of light?

Whenever eontradictiona appear, they
muat be reaolved. When they involve one
acienee alone, the difficulty is called aeien-
tifie. When they involve more than one,
the problem may be called philosophical.
Thus, both with regard to assumptions
and oimdusions, philosophy functions as
a criticiser of the sciences.

Synthesis is the second function which
philosophy performs for the sciences.
Badi science dwdls on one phase of ez-
periaaoe. Bach does its part. But
where there’s a part, there’s a whole. To
know a part only is to have a distorted
view. The final goal of science should
be to understand the whole— to see the
picture complete. Philosophy, as a
“soienoe of seienees,” as a “supreme
seienee,’’ as a “comprehensive science,’’
aedv constantly to perform this function.

^’The objeet of philosophy,’’ says C. D.
Broad, “is to take over the results of the
various seienees, add to them the results
of reUglous and ethical expmienees of
TWAnirfrtd, and then refleet upcm the
whole, h^ing to be able to reach some
gMieral eondusiona as to the nature of
the universe and as to oUr poaition and
prospeeis in it”

“jrailesoifiiy,” for Whitehead, “is not
one iuhoag the seknees with its own li^e
sd^Sttie of abstraetions which it wmha

avM^ at perfbet^ and iinproving. It is

the mrvey oiadeh^ with the qweial

slie^ of fhehr hiiinony and of their
»n '

lA H. WUWhssd, *’8«isaM sad the Xodsm
'■ *» ip. m-t*

Who has not heard the story of the
four blind men of Burma and theif vkit
with the elephant. Upon returning from
their venture, they emnpared condusieos
about the nature of the beast Said one,
who had felt the dephant’s 1^, an do*
phant is like a tree. Another had
grasped the tail and reported an dephant
to be like a rope. The trunk was traced
by the third, who insisted it was much
Ike a serpent The othw had stretched
on the dephant’s side and likened him
to a bam. When a seientist insists that
the whole universe is like the part which
he investigates, he is to be eompwod to
a Burmese blind man. We might have
the separate reports of all the sciences
and yet not see the whole dephant In
order to comprehend the total scheme, the
function of synthesis is necessary.

As mother of the sciences, philosophy
has had a long and interesting history.
At one time there was no distinction be-
tween philosophy and sdence. Gradu-
ally, as the reflections ujmn problems
became increasingly complex and as
special techniques were developed, spe-
cialists limited the range of their in-
quiries, and sciences were bora. Among
the first were mechanics, mathematiea
and astronomy. Among ^e latest were
p^ohology and sodology. The romance
of the maturing of these (Spring of the
fecund mother most be left to the hist<ny
Of science. Deeper concern is fdt for
those yet unborn-— the philosophical
sciences which have not yet been granted
independenee.

Wonder about bearing children gives
rise to q>ecnlation about philoaopl^^
future. Will the phfiosophieal sdenees
become, one day, soiencea in their own
right? If so, philosophy’s tadc be
done? Will dte beomne barren? Or will
there be new conceptions now unsus-
pected? Optimism about her future is
eq;>ressed in the following paragraph
from Peny:

As tin adsBoas hqve lattied sise after stea «f
Us erlgUal Amula, tin .pUlosepher Ins pWhad
ea to tin eater eSge of tUaga The fhyslaal

560

THE SCIBNTIPIC MONTHLY

f rontiar, we are told^ has eaaaed to eziat-^o far,
at any rate, aa Ame^ca ia eoneerned. There ia
no more free land. But the paaaing of the in-
tellectual frontier ia not in eight. There ia
plenty of free land beyond the areaa whieh re-
ligion and the acienees haye fenced and eulti-
▼ated, and brought under the rule of law and
order. The philoaopher livea on thia frontier
and makea crude eharta of the region whieh liea
beyond. In the nature of the caae, the maaa of
mankind muat remain in the aettled eommuni-
ties, while the pioneers muat be few and sparady
diatributed. But it has alwaya been true in
America that aomie flavor of the frontier apirit
haa pervaded even the settled communitiea--^ome
love of freedom, some boldness of action, some
primitive sense of fair play. So it ia not un-
reasonable to suggest that the great body of
normal, sane, practical, respectable pec^le, the
people with whom philosophy ia not a vocation,
will, especially if they be American and have
the blood of frontiersmen in their veins, never-
theless And the essential spirit of philosophy con-
geniaL They will, perhaps, wish to make occa-
sional excursions for themselves; but in any case,
they will respect those qualities of mind that
prompt other men to plunge into the deep waters
and roam the trackless forests of the great intel-
lectual adventure.*

By way of miinmary, we recall that
philoeophy is a group of problems. It
accepts as its own both the problems of
the nebulous philosophical sciences and
the problems of a comprehensive sciehce.
Its comprehensive functions include,
first, giving birth, then, settling quarrels,
and finally, harmonising in one house the
several somewhat self-centered sciences.
And “a mother's work is never done.”

What iheoriet art philosophieal thta-
rieaf Perhaps the siniplest, if somewhat
inaccurate, answer to this question is
that philosophical theories are those
which have been propounded by philoso-
phers. This leaves the problem of decid-
ing who were and who are philosophers.
Such an answer may serve when we are
concerned with philosophical theories of
the past. Traditions have developed in
the history of philosophy. We now point

*B. B. Peny, Defense of PhiloiopIkT,”

pp. 66-6.

without question to Socrates, Pbtto,
Aristotle, Plotinus, St Augustine, St
Thonuus, Bacon, Hobbes, Descartes,
Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Spinosa, Leib-
nits, Kant, Hegel, Schopenhauer, ScheU-
ing, Neitssehe, Bradley, Bosanquet,
Boyce and James.

But there are many others. And who
shall decide which othersf Further, not
every theory proposed by each of these
men can be considered philosophical —
Berkeley’s essay on tarwater, for exam-
ple. Yet such an answer suffices for the
novice investigating history, provided he
select a competent guide.

But for contemporaries — how shall
their status be decided? Dewey, White-
head, Bussell, most will agree, are phi-
losophers. But who elset There are
hundreds who deserve the name. Yet not
every teacher of philosophy is a philoso-
pher. How shall the line be drawn?

Another answer to our question is this :
Solutions to philosophical problems are
philosophical theories. Having deter-
mined what problems are philosophical,
it becomes comparativdy easy to deter-
mine what theories are philosophical. In
epistemology, for example, realism, ideal-
ism, pragmatism, mysticism, scepticism
and solipsism are properly daaMd aa
philosophical theories.

Still another answer has been given.
Here attitude and method are deciding
factors. Barrett, as previously cited,
would reply: ”It is not the specific con-
tent of these condusions, but the spirit
and method by whieh th^ were reached,
which entitles them to described as
philosophical.”

Philosophical theories are a genuine
part of philosophy. Philosophieal prob-
lems constitute philosophy. Philosoph-
ical method is essential to phSosopliy.
And there can be no philosophy wi^out
the philosophieal attitude. These oom-
ponents are major in a oomplete deseri^
tion. This is vtimt phflosqoby hH-to-day.

THE FIELDS OF ENVIRONMENTALISM '

Br Dr. RODERICK & PBATTIB

FBonaaoB or otooiArar, obio state umvEBSiTT

Tam paper is presented because of the
distinct condemnation which Pfeifer' has
uttered against environmentalism. Also
Hartshome* recently has chosen to lay
emphasis so almost completely upon cul-
tural rather than environmentalistic geo-
graphic philosophy. In this reply 1 shall
almost immediately belie myself. After
pleading against over-rigid definitions, I
shall risk attack by making three limiting
descriptions. A tendency towards too-
great definition in any field is dangerous.
It is a poor omen. Science, like art, is
in a decadent stage when it becomes con-
ventionalised. Philosophic progress can
be measured by the willingness to ex-
plore. The complacent or timid stay at
home. In a colony of coral polyps it is
the organisms on the fringes of the reef
that are best nourished. It is the fron-
tier that gives most to history. Geog-
raphy is no exception. I must give credit
to those who would construct a strong
core of what is called pure geography.
But more leaven is to be found upon the
margins. The stimidation that means
progress is for those who explore perilous
frontiers. In such advanced areas defini-
tions of fields of study are merely re-
stricting.

-Having spoken against definitions, I
find it, however, necessary to my thesis
to difFerentiate between ohorographers,
cultural geographers and environmental-
ists. I hasten to add that to me these
schools of effort are none of them oppo-
sitional, but that they are comple-

lOottfried Pfetfer, *'BegioBEl Oeogrsphy ia
the tlBlted States Slnee the War,’* AuMrieaa
Seegraphieel SMtetJ**

• Bfa&ard BartihenM, 4e)iet* e/ the AMooio-
Mea of AmerUm gHgmpheri, S^tamtwr and
taaber,

mentary. Moreover, the supporters of
each are ordinarily regionalists. Bty
personal reaction to geography is that it
is little if not regional. No regional con-
trasts — ^no geography. Even compara-
tive geographers must have regional con-
cepts as a basis of their comparisons.

The chorographer is a trained observer.
He records m in utiae with scientific accu-
racy. The results of his work are funda-
mental. Ohorographers are trained land-
scapists, archivists. I count myself as
one among them. I value the experience.
I believe every geographer should under-
take chorographic studies. On the other
hand, I am quick to state that chorog-
raphy has its limitation. It is difficult
to conceive of chorography as a philoso-
phy. Such a technique of approach
should never be thought of as an end in
itself. Collecting facts leads to erudition
but not necessarily to intellectuality in
the philosophic sense. Bobert Platt sup-
ports this idea in his recent article on
British Guiana. Certainly, the chorog-
raphers were correct when they insisted
that accurate recording of facts must
precede generalisation. On the other
hand, we do not need to map every
square mile of the earth, except Iqr vray
of. inventory. I believe the sampling of
^ical areas will serve our purpose. I
exemplified this in a study of the Bastam
Pyrmiees. Again, geologists, from whtMn
we borrowed the survey method, do not
map every detail of a mountain range
befqre theorising upon orogeny. Also,
limitations of chorography are iUnstrated
by the prevailing unliterary character ,of
the reports. I find them dull reading. I
have been guilty of this same boring of
my public.

562

THE SCIENTIPIC MONTHLY

The cnlttiral sohocd ot geographj ia
distinction to the enyironmoitalistie
school arises naturally from the recipro-
cal character of the geographic relation-
ship. The philosophy of each school ia
in no way exclusive of the other. The
cultural geographer concerns himself
with man ’s adaptation of the earth to his
purpose. Thus a sophisticated landscape
is the result of man’s choice. Rightly
most geographers are cultural geog-
raphers because most of the features of
modem countries are artificial. Think
of a campus, the arrangement and mate-
rial of the buildings and its exotic Gk>thic
arches. I, personally, have not contrib-
uted greatly to this line of thought
because I fear that in many cases, deal-
ing as one does with such obvious tangi-
bles, my conclusions would be patent to
all. The field lacks, to me, controversial
aspects except when it enters the realm
of economics. By way of indicating that
much excellent work is accomplished by
people outside our academy, let me men-
tion that my favorite piece of cultural
geography is called ’’Grape Harvest.”
It is by Nora Wain and is found in the
Atlantic Monthly for October, 1987.

I must now defend that Cinder^,
environmentalism. Environmentalism
has been sent to the comer in the ashes
because of the error of her ways. I grant
no scholarship has been more erroneous
than that of environmentalism. As
stimulating as Bodin, Mbntesquieu and
Buckle were in their ^y, their generali-
sations were damaging to the philosophy.
Even the well written dust-to-dust state-
ment that opens Miss Semple’s great
book is sentimental rather than rational.
Some of the environmentalists have bebn
faulty, to say the least, in their thinking.
Reputable journals l^ve printed ma-
terial that never should have gotten into
print.

What is this environmentalism f It is
usually thought of as tiie slow and not
easily measurable influence of physical

factors <m the ways ot life. Ordinarily,
it is a passive influence whose result is
perceptible and best measured in terms
of the centuries. It invdves such f actms
as isolation and directional contacts. It
results in such conclusions as geographic
limitations to cultures or the diffusion of
cultures. Contrary to the popular belief
it is sddom, indeed almost never, deter-
ministic. lather, cultural geography is
the school of thought which leans towards
determinism.

Because there is so mvuM insistence
that environmentalists are determinista,
I must clarify the matter. So far geo-
graphic factors have been referred to as
passive. Such influences are in the eco-
nomic aspects of life only limitations.
The presence of coal does not determine
an industrialism. But let physical con-
ditions alter, and it is another matter.
Let aridity increase in Central Asia or
the Dust Bowl, and aridity is found to
determine a change in the afhirs of man.
You are all familiar with Ward’s
sketches of what happens to the farmer’s
family during the passage of a tornado.
All catastrophic geography is determin-
istic. Ellsworth Huntington’s theory of
climatic energy in human affairs ap-
proaches a definite contrcfi. 1 suspect
that the concept of exhausted resources
forcing us to a reconsideration of our
economies might furnish some with a
belief in envirtmmental determinism. I
am willing to go further and say that the
demands of conservation are forcing
upon us a new socialism.

An evaluation of the several factors
controlling cultural fiusts and events may
be obtained from conceiving all history
as existing within a cube. Let ns begin
our three dimensions with the lower,
forward right-hand ewner. The three
dimensions shall rep re se nt the three fao-
tors of heredity, environment and human
choice or volition. Proceeding from this
comer each dimensional arrow would
represent increasing importanee of aaeh

THE FIELDS OF ENVIBONMENTALISM 563

of the faeton. Every fact of emlieation Inoidly eonadona of the geographical fho-

may then be plotted in apace within the
cube according to the varying impor-
tance of the three faetora. Moat human
hiatory haa, of courae, a genetic predeter-
mination. However unimportant, the
environmental factor ia certainly preaent.
The human choice ia all too obvioua.
Again, the Gk>thic arches of the uni-
versity are a matter of human choice. If
there is a determinism due to any one
factor, the results must be plotted at the
far comers of the cube. Such results
are mathematically highly improbable.
To believe in a single factor as determin-
istic, we must demand of our judgment
that two of three variables be reduced to
aero and, on the percentage basis, the
third factor be rated exactly one hun-
dred. Such conditions may happen but
obvioualy are rare. . The question of
determinism is therefore hardly worthy
of our attention. And by determinism
I mean a dynamic and not a limiting
fmrce.

Is environmentalism of any significant
aervieet The primary field for the envi-
ronmentalist may be looked upon by tbe
geographer as too broad for his attention.
This is the field of environmentalism as
opposed to genetics. There are excellent
bMka in this field by biologists and
medicos, as the recent '^Environment and
(shrawth” by Sanders. The geographer,
witii few exceptions, has ignored the fine
philosophic opportunities to be found
there. He is at times sorely needed be-
cause the biologists and medical research
men are not qualified by training to
evaluate geographic factors. As we main-
tain sub^partments di biology called
genetics, we should maintain sub-depart-
meats of tfivironmentalim.

A second field is that of the geographi-
cal factor in history. Unfortunate^ the
iBwgH^h have perverted the phrase, his-
todoal geography, until it stands for
inerely plaoe geography written ihto his-
tory, Bdt some historians have been

tor in history. Lack of snppmrt of this
important philosophy of history is the
geographers’ fault rather than the hii^.
torians’. More has been done along -this
line in ancient and dassical hiatory than
in the later periods. I have only to men-
tion the names of James Breasted and
Ellen Churchill Semple. I can not think
of any brand of geographic thought
which has a greater opportunity for
philosophic depth or for popular appeaL
The economic historian and the realist in
current affairs, usually non-geographers,
have seized upon the opportunity. But
again, the trained geographer is here
needed and too seldom has responded.

A third, and my last, field for the en-
vironmentalist will, I am afraid, not
appeal to many persons and yet is a prob-
lem of regionalism. There is interaction
between the three factors of my postu-
lated cube. Environment and heredity
interact upon each other. Man’s choice
affects both the other factors. We can
not deny then that environment affects
man’s choice. In short, environment
affects psychology. There is a regional
psychology. Obviously, the geography
of mental characteristics is not of the
same definitude as regional economics.
But lack of definition makes a fact none
tbe less real. That which can be defined
or even proved may be of less significance
than the unprovable and imponderable.
After all, much cultural history and cer-
tainly a great deal of current conflict is
based upon regional psychology. That
there should be a geography of cultural
attitudes is not startling. Philosopheai,
essayists, novdists, poets and artists haiM
known it for a long time. Geographers,
however oonscions of it they may have
been, have given the influence of physical
bircumstance on psychology little written
support.

If philosophic ’writers in other disci-
plines and ^ creative arts are taking
advantage of environmentalism, vie

564

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

should in turn take advantage of them.
Geographers will do well to read the psy-
chologies of MacDougal, Porteus, Eufflca
and Lewine. After reading Cressey on
China, go to the works of Pearl Buck.
Her characterisation of Wang Lung and
his obsession for land is grand Chinese
culture. No one has demonstrated better
the harmony between soil, rhythm of
nature and peasant mentality than Louis
Adamic in “The Native’s Betum.”
There remains yet for the geographer to
surpass the relationship of depleted re-
sources and mental depression exempli-
fied by Archibald MacLeish in “Land of
the ^ee.” I have read one of Mao-
Leish’s manuscripts critically, and I
know he prepares himself weU in envi-
ronmentalism.

Since we do not believe in actual in-
heritance of social traits, we must search
for other causes for the persistence of
national psychologies. The answer is
that there is a cultural surge to history.
Strong and often dominant factora in
culture character are isolation, the soil,
the climate, the sea. Indeed, the most
sensitive measure of regionalism is a
people’s temperamental attitude towards
life. We have definitely discarded tiie
theory of racial characteristics for the
more plausible culture characteristics.
Celtic imagination is not inherited, it is
handed down. Psychdogies are not in-
bred ; they are intrained. And the great-
est discipline we receive has always had
an earthly origin. Environment is like
a number of finely medied screens, selec-
tive according to the shapes of the inter-
stices. We encounter these screens in our
restlessness or as the screens change with
unstable physical conditions. The story
begins with the isolated culture of Egypt.

It explaiiu the sea motif in Greek his-
tory. It can not be ignmed in Soviet
affairs.

I am not insisting that we must all
as ecologists pursue environmentalistie
theories. Thinking environmentalisti-
caUy means casting aside exact postula-
tions, fomulas and conclusions. It calls
for imagination and a quality of scholar-
ship which at times may seem not to be
starkly rational. Yet, if it lacks statis-
tics Jby which the equation may be solved,
it frequently demonstrates by its logic
more significant hypotheses and theories
that can be demonstrated by the dearly
observable. Moreover, its even partial
condusions are frequently of as wide
interest and of as great philosophical
consequence to the world as a v^ole as
is the enumeration of sequence occu-
pance.

Yet, I hdd in high respect 'the ad-
vanced labors of the chorographer and
cultural geographer. The chorogra-
phers’ work is basic. Only after the
cultural geographer has completed his
work can the environmentalist reach his
complete condusion. But I must insist
that environmentalism remains a signifi-
cant pursuit of great philosophic depth.
It has been so for two millenniums. In
all justice, let me say, that if cultural
geographers do not wish to recognise
environmmitalism as having a place
above the salt, environmentalism wd-
comes and needs the efforts of its younger
brother. Gtonetioist, environmmatalist,
cultural geographer and peychologist
should unitedly put their Moulders to
the whed. I might well have labded
this paper, which is little more than an
exposition of a persond choice of phi*
losophy, “With Malice towards None.”

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOR LAYMEN

THS TRUTH ABOUT THB CUCKOO*

Nbablt two decades ago, Mr. Edgar
P. Chance published his book on
the European cuckoo, Cucvlus eanorus,
and simultaneously exhibited the motion
picture record of his observations, both
entitled “The Cuckoo’s Secret.” It is
no exaggeration to say that no single
study of any particular species of bird
ever caused as much interest and heated
controversy as did this one. Chance was
able to reveal so convincingly that so
much of what had passed for Imowledge
was in reality only unwarranted assump-
tion or ill-found^ tradition that many
die-hards, finding themselves imable to
adjust their thoughts to the new evi-
dence, clamored loudly against the cause
of their discomfort. From the start it
was obvious that all the direct positive
evidence was on Chance’s side, and the
years have witnessed a more and more
complete acceptance of his conclusions.
The main points that Chance established
were: (1) the cuckoo lays her eggs di-
rectly into the nest of the victim and not,
as previously stated, on the ground, sub-
sequently placing them in the nest with
her bill; (2) the female cuckoo has a
definite territory to which she adheres
throughout the season; (3) each female
cuckoo lays a constant type of egg and is
decidedly specific in her parasitism, t.e.,
uses only nests of a single kind of bird
aa a host; (4) by destroying the nests
of the favorite host species in sequence,
so that only one nest was available at a
time, it was possible to force the cuckoo '
to lay in a given nest and therefore to
witness the process. Since Chance’s first
book in 1922, a number of other observ-
ers have used his methods and fully con-
firmed his observations.

In his new book, here under review,
CSianoe repeats all that was said in his

t Tk» Irvtk e(oirt iJu OwHioo, Bdgar Ohsiiee.
xfi4-807 pf, 1940. Setilnur’s Bom.

earlier one and gives many additional
data from subsequent observation of the ■
same individual cuckoos and of other
ones as welL In addition, he discusses
such topics as accidental fosterers (spe-
cies rarely parasitised), the adherence to
fosterers (host-specificity), the behavior
of fosterers when subject to a cuckoo’s
attention; the young cuckoo and, espe-
cially, its habit of ejecting other young
or eggs from the nest, and the question
of mating and pairing and the moot sub-
ject of territory and territorial domi-
nance in the cuckoo. He produces a
considerable body of evidence suggesting
that the cuckoo may pair as do most
birds and not be guilty of the promis-
cuous excesses literature has attributed
to it. Chance even hints that pairing
may be for life — ^but for this there are
no proofs.

The final topic discussed is the matter
of the variation in cuckoos’ eggs and the
evolution of adaptive similarity in the
egg of the parasite to that of its favorite
host. As Chance says, “. . . If one ex-
amines an extensive range of cuckoos’
eggs, together with those of the fosterers
with which they have been found, one can
not help observing how often the eggs
of the parasite tend to resemble those of
the fosterers. ... To put this another
way, let us picture say three hundred
cuckoos’ eggs mixed up at random which
have been genuinely taken as to one
hundred each from nests of pied wagtail,
meadow pipit and reed warbler. I am
suggesting that the experienced oologikt
would, with more accuracy than error,
sort out these eggs and assign them to
their correct foster species. Surely this
shows that evolution in coloration has
been and is going ont ... Of course, if
it is argued that similarily can occur in-
finite^ often by coincidence, then the
whole case for ‘adaptation’ or ‘evolu-
tion’ in enkkoos’ eggs falls to . the

gnnmd, bat I diare tba view tbat the
ptnrooitege of eaeei of etrikhig resem*
blanee between eodtoos’ egga end tiboee
of their fosterer* is too great to be mere
ooinoidenee.” This leads to the oonten*
tion that tile species, Cueuius canonu, is
composed of gentes, each gmis iiormaU 7
parasitizing a particular species of fos-
terer (the number of common hosts be-
ing not very large, the number of gentes
would be equally moderate, all cases of
rare victims being considered as acci-
dental in one way or another) and that
matings take place within the same gens.
The genetics of the cu^oo are, of coarse,
very imperfectly understood, but in an
appendix to Chance’s book, l^fessor B.
C. Punnett has added a most interesting
and suggestive chapter on the genetical
aqicet of the cuckoo. The value of this
chapter will become apparent in the
work it may stimulate on this fascinat-
ing subject

The reviewer has a special and very
deep interest in the problems touched
upon in this book, because it so closely
parallels bis own work on the cowbirds.
He is continually impressed by the close
agreement he finds in intei^retations
and results between his own experience
and Edgar Chance’s, especially when
taking into account the very different
birds each has worked with. If Chance’s
work needed any indirect corroboration
and support, the data on the cowbirds
would give it ^

TTiB fttt iB w r FbQBDXANK

MAIUIALS OF Ak BKICAi

A OABBFUXi reading of this bo<fic will
convince the reader that the author has
made good use of original Ihei^itare
sources, that he is thoroughly convrasant
with the subject-matter and tiiat he has
carefully considered the presentatum
pertinent facts. It is a book that every
m a mm a l ogiat naturalist and sportsman

I AewHose JCcfiMNolf. W. J* Hsmitton,
XSwtratad. sU-t-4M pp. IASS. 18.76. ]Ce>
Onw-EUL

will want to read. Bepresentstivs ^fpea
of the mammal familin of North
ica, from Panama to the Aretie barMn
lands, are chosen to illastrata the par-
ticular topic under discussion, but no
attempt is made to give detailed accounts
of each species. The first two diapters
are devoted to a discussion of the an-
cestry and daarifieation of
Prior to the publication of ‘’American
Mammals,” reference works available to
the interested reader were plainly state
descriptive lists, taxonomic treatises of
genera, economic reports and game man-
agement accounts. From all these and
many other sources data were drawn in
preparing the chapters on adaptations,
food, storage, reproduction and early
life, homes, hibernation, migration, pop-
ulations, behavior and totribution. The
concluding chapters are arranged in such
a way as to give a general account of the
economic relations of mammals. IRiaae
in this category are classed as useful

inj iirimm m ^TniwuAlf^

fur-bearing and predatory mammals.

In the chapter on the duuraeters of
mammals, the reader gets a good insight
into the function and use of teeth, hair
specialization, pdage cdorathm, antler
and hom structure, body temperature,
normal actions of akin glands and aee-
ondary sexnal characters. Especially in-
stmetive to the lay reader is tiie chapter
dealing with the external and intnnal
modifications of mammals for swinuning,
burrowing and dimbing, and the fac-
tors that make oistence possible in polar
regitms and in desert areas. Since Bnb-
ner’s body surface law is the i^rsmise
around whidi mndi of the section on
Aretie mammals is organised, attention
should be dkeoted to the staneitimt dif-
ferent ccmdudons readied by Benpdiot
(1986, Carnegie Inst Washington
474, pp. 282-886). In all! the dui|4ws
the emphasis Iks distinctly ki tto hoo-;
logical aiqproaeh as a means for kstik-
wctinff iIm Tttsnknii

bidogy. ChM of tin best fcstonw #

567

BOOKS ON SCIENCE FOB LAYMEN

book is the direct citation of consulted
source materials.

RBSMINGTON KEUiOQG

THS PATIENTS RESPONSIBILITY ^

Optimism is a potent force, but it is not
omnipotent. Carried to extreme it is
prone to become self-destructive. Sci-
ence must be constantly conscious of the
dangers of wishful thinking. We mUst
not promise more than we know is fea-
sible. The promise implied in the title^
of a recent book for the lay reader on
problems of health preservation is mis-
leading. Health and longevity are not
to be had for the mere asking ; fairies and
genii no longer work miracles upon re-
quest. Neither can the physician main-
tain health without earnest effort on the
part of the patient. And even then,
there are many to whom health and life
are denied. To be sure, modern medical

science now has far more than ever be*

(

fore to offer the person seeking sound
sdviee as to how to mamtain health and
prolong his years. The poteniialiiies of
personal preventive medieine are im-
mense, but their realisation depends
largely upon the conscientiousness of the
indiv^ji^ patient.

ManUnd reveals a curious perversity
in declining to exert himself in prophy-
laxis on his own behalf. The causation
of several of the significant and increas-
ingly menacing discmlers of middle and
later life is frequently assodiated with

other. It is, therefore, doubly dangerous
to imply that mere asking for healt^ suf-
fices. Pampering paternalism has al-
ready wrought havoc with the sense of
responsibility of our citizens. '

Throughout 'the book Dr. Steincrohn
maintains ’ a strtmgly optimistic tone.
Such encouragement is desirable and
should bring many well people to their
physicians. This is the first and vital
step in personal health maintenance.

This message can not be over-empha-
sized. But there is just a little too much
stress upon what the doctor does and too
little clarification of the patient’s own
responsibility to himself. Ambrose Par4,
the father of French surgery in the six-
teenth century, was fond of saying, ‘*I
dressed his wounds and Qod healed him.”
To-day’s version of the relative role
played by the physician might read:
”The doctor assists the body to do its
own repairing.” For exaniple, we may
prescribe medication for the correction
of an anemia, but it is the body which
must manufacture the blood cells.

Information for the layman on health
evaluation, heart disease, cancer, dia-
betes, ppeulnonia and similar problems
is clearly presented. The statements are
sound. Very little effort is made, how-
ever, in aplaining'the mechanisms un-
derl^g disease and the basic reasons
for therapeutic procedures. It has been
the reviewer ’s experience that intelligent
and effective cooperation is obtained best
when the patient understands why he or

indulgence and excesses. Thiu, preven-
tive management often involfes irksome
restriet^tms and prolonged personal ef-
forts. All too often the dislike for such
continuous limitations leads to tbeir neg-
lect ; the physician is then blamed f(m;;ihe
If^nre ihe Few, indeei}, an^

those individuals who do not wdcoma afi
opportunity to pass responsibility to an-

for iht AMkg, PeterJ.lMdB*
erolSB.: .SIS pp. 4a>00. IMO. S. AppMon-
Ceatuiy lOsmpii^

she ahould dp things. The style is light,
with many personal narrativb sketches
Used to illmitrate tibe author’s points.

In eontraat vdtb the many widdiy ina#^
curate hefdth, hygiene and n^l-

eine intended fpr the layman, this is a
very sound cmtttriWtion and Jts well in
4he ‘^Poptdar Realfh So^es” of the pub-
lisiim. It is no^ hpniever, an outstand-
ing or profoiuadiy volume.

Rparaim J. S1SB8UXZ

AEBIAL VIEW OF THE CAMPUS OF THE UNIVEB8ITT OF NEW HAKPSHIBE
uwnm mox or tbs AwmoAK absooutiok n» «ai AsvAwonainr or aomtoi nr itnne. m
urs rOUDGBOfDMD If A CMOUP OT SOKiaTWIM, 'OOMMaWMO OT WntttU BAU., FABOBlUr BAIA ABB
TBB OOXKONS. BUYONS TBIIC » ISI BAHninW SKmV UMUBT AMB liTOlCD IT, MSAB TBI fU»

rou, w TBOdtPBOx BALt., TBS ADBansTSATmt soouiro. nr tbs viscuiob, at tbs anrs nr sni

STSSST, U TBS HSLO B0V8S, WBIOB, WITB SSAmB CATArnTT <» ZfiOO, VATM V«» IMM MSSttinW.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

SCIENCE AND VACATION AT DURHAM. N. H.

Prom June 23 to June 28 the American
Association for the Advancement of Sci-
ence will combine business with pleasure
in holding a meeting at Durham, New
Hampshire, in connection with the cele-
bration of the seventy-fifth anniversary
of the founding of the State University.
Immediately preceding the meeting of
the association the university will hold a
Congress of Science and Humanities as a
part of the celebration.

The meeting of the association will be
a pleasure to those who participate in it
because on its thirty-five programs there
will be many reports of new adven-
tures in science. It will be a pleasure
to pass a few days in the tranquil atmos-
phere of a university town. It will be a
pleasure to draw apart briefly from the
strife of the day and take a long look at
the nature of the physical and biological
worlds and at the problems of man. It
will be a pleasure to visit the sea, the
lakes and the mountains of perhaps the
most restful and delightful vacation land
in our country.

Although the association will hold a
meeting from September 22 to Septem-
ber 27 at the University of Chicago in
connection with the fiftieth anniversary
of its founding, a varied and interesting
program will be presented at the Durham
meeting. It will range from the rare at-
mosphere of abstract mathematics to the
racial origins of the inhabitants of pres-
ent New England. The meteorologists
will consider questions pertaining to the
atmosphere above and the geologists to
problems of the earth beneath our feet.
The programs of the botanists and the
geologists will consist largely of field
trips. Somewhat envious members of
other sections and societies may attempt
to tease their botanical and geological
friends about sibling pleasure trips sci-
ence, but the latter can make this re-
joinder that Pope would have said, if he
had written m the subject, that the
proper study of botany is plants and of

geology is the earth, and few would have
challenged the statement.

Other sections and societies will visit
laboratories of various kinds, experiment
stations, gardens, forests, etc. The Sec-
tion on Social and Economic Sciences
will devote three days to discussing social
and economic problems of New England.
Questions of the production of food will
be considered in the programs of the
horticulturists and agronomists, the
preservation and use of forests by the
foresters, and the protection of human
health by the Se<?tion on the Medical Sci-
ences. Long ago Dr. L. 0. Howard, then
permanent secretary of the association,
said that the greatest war on the earth
is that between human beings and in-
sects. That this has become an all-out
war in dead earnest is proved by a sym-
posium in which the entomologists will
present coldly explicit directions for kill-
ing insect enemies — ^the young and oW,
both while resting in their homes and
while at their regular business — ^by the
use of the most deadly poisons the chem-
ists can produce.

As states go. New Hampshire is not
great in area or population, but it has a
long and honorable history and its peo-
ple have always been noted for their
granite integrity. What is now New
Hampshire was first seen by white men
when Martin Prang visited its coast in
1608. Two years later Champlain dis-
covered the Isles of Shoals oft its coast.
Captain John Smith visited it in 1614
and wrote enthusiastically of its attrao-
tions. John Mason, who received a land
grant from King James 1, in 1622, is
known as the founder of New Hampshire.
The fl^t indisputable settl^ent in New
Hampshire was by David Thompson, in
1623, at Little Harbor (now Rye). Orig-
inally a part of Mi^chusetts, New
Hampshire did not become a separate
province until 1679.

' At the outbreak of the American Revo-
lution New Hampshire had about 80,000

569

570

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

inhabitants, most of whom ardently de-
sired to become separate from Great
Britain. In fact, on June 15, 1776, two
weeks before the Declaration of Indepen-
dence, its Assembly voted for separation
from the mother country. It was, how-
ever, the ninth state to ratify the Federal
Constitution ; the vote of its Assembly in
1788 gave the two-thirds of the thirteen
original states necessary to make the Con-
stitution effective.

New Hampshire was a part of Massa-
chusetts when, in 1647, it passed a law
requiring every town having fifty house-
holders to maintain a school for teaching
reading and writing, and every town
having one hundred householders or
more to maintain a grammar school. It
has preserved to an exceptional degree
the fine qualities of the neighborhood
school, and one might still often say with
Whittier,

Still sits the school house by the road,

A ragged beggar sunning,

And round it still the sunmcs grow
And blackberry vinos are running.

The little red school house on the hill
lacked the lavish equipment and the ath-
letic teams of modem public schools, but
it opened somewhat the windows to life
and lore and instilled deeply the funda-
mentals of human character. No one can
certainly say at present which type of
education in the long run will be the
befter.

New Hampshire, however, has kept in
tune with the progress of higher educa-
tion. Dartmouth College first opened
• its doors in 1769 and for more than 170
years has occupied an honorable, and in
some respects an almost unique, place in
college education. In 1856, Benjamin
Thompson, a farmer of Durham, left his
entire estate to the people of New Hamp-
shire to establish a college of agriculture
on the land he had owned. The Univer-
sity of New Hampshire, beginning in
18^ as a department of Dartmouth Col-
lege, was removed to Durham in 1891. It
now consists of the College of Agricul-
ture, the College of Liberal Arts, the

HAMPTON BHACH, ONE OF THE MANY BBSOBTS NBAB 0UBHAM

SOINIO ATmACnOHS KSAE OmiBAH VAST nOU BSAOmiS, sues AS THIS 80 UXSM OISVAKT, ^ WS
WHITS 1IOUKTAIM8 AKP LAXB WUrKSrgSAtllCXB, WHIOB ASX OVht A.IVW ROUES ’ DStWI AWAT.

THE PROGRESS OP SCIENCE

571

GREAT BAY FROM WEEK ’8 POINT, IN DURHAM TOWNSHIP

THIS INLET ON OTBTEK BIVKB, AT THE HEAD OF THE TIIWWATEE, IS ABOUT THEBE UILES FROM THE

CAMPUS OF THE UNIVEBSITr.

College of Technology, with their nu-
merous departments, and its Graduate
School. It has a faculty of nearly 200
of the grade of instructor and higher
and more than 2,000 regularly enrolled
students. In its summer school this year,
beginning on June 30 and closing on Au-
gust 8, courses will be given in more than
60 subjects, including all those usually
found in college courses. In addition
there will be held the fourth annual In-
stitute of Public Affairs, a Writers*
Conference, a Guidance Institute, an
Elementary Education Conference, a Li-
brary Institute and an Office Workers’
Institute.

Durham is in a region rich with memo-
ries of great leaders in learning and lit-
erature of an earlier day. In this area
Whittier, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Emer-
son, Thoreau, Webster, Thazter and Al-
drich lived and work^, and there are
found shrines in their honor. The uni-
versity is only a few miles from ocean

beaches and within a half day’s drive of
hundreds of beautiful lakes of the central
part of the state. Lake Winnepesaukee,
twenty miles long and from one to eig^t
miles wide, is noted for its 274 green
islands. To the north are the mountains
culminating in Mount Washington in the
Presidential Range with an altitude of
6,293 feet. Following the scientific meet-
ing at Durham from June 23 to June 28,
many of the scientists and their families
will journey northward for pleasitre to
the lakes and the mountains, to sUence
and to solitude — ^no ! not to solitude, for
as Byron has written.

To oH on rocks, to muso o’er flood and fell.

To slowly trace the forest ’s shady scene,

Whore things that own4iot man’s dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne’er or rarely beenj
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen
With the wild flock that never needs a fold^
Alone o’er steeps and falls to lean;

This is not solitude; ’tis but to hold
Converse with Nature’s charms and view her
stores unrolled.

F. B. Moulton

572

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

THS ANNUAL MEETING OF THE NATIONAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES

The Beventy-eighth annual meeting of
the National Academy of Sciences was
held on April 28, 29 and 30, 1941, at
the Academy building on Constitution
Avenue, Washington, D. C. One hun-
dred and thirty-three members and one
foreign associate attended the meeting.
At the scientific sessions thirty-two pa-
pers and two biographical memoirs were
presented; of these, twenty-one papers
were given by members. The distribu-
tion of the papers among the sciences
was : mathematics, 1 ; astronomy, 3 ;
physics, 5; chemistry, 2; geology, 5;
botany, 5 ; zoology, 6 ; physiology, 1 ; bio-
chemistry, 1; anthropology, 1; psychol-
ogy, 2 ; oceanography, 1. In presenting
his paper each speaker sought to em-
phasize the general nature of his investi-
gation and to limit technical details to
essential data, so that the purport of the
work might be more readily understood
by scientists outside bis special field of
research. As a result the papers were
unusually interesting and were freely

DE. T. Y. THOMAS

PEoriasoa or hatbbmavxos, uvnrxasnr or

CALirORNU, LOS AKOBLBS.

discussed. The average attendance at
the scientific sessions was 300.

On Monday evening the public lecture
was given by Drs. B. A. Millikan, H.
Victor Neher and W. H. Pickering, of
the California Institute of Technology,
on ‘ITesting in India a theory of the
origin of cosmic rays’' to an appreciative
audience of 350. The lecture was fol-
lowed by the showing of still and motion
colored pictures taken by Dr. Neher in
India and on the journey to and from
India.

At the annual dinner the president of
the Academy, Dr. Prank B. Jewett, dis-
cussed briefly the many problems faced
by the Academy in connection with re-
quests by the Government for advice
and noted the progress that has been
made in solving a number of these prob-
lems. He referred also to the steps that
have been taken to establish the proposed
National Science Fund. A committee
of the Academy under the chairmanship
of Dr. A. F. Blakeslee has been working

BE, ABTHUB S, KING
suFBatKTvaaiMT or mt frysioal labobayobYi
xomr WILBOR OSSBBVATOaT, FASADBRA.

THE PE0GBES8 OF SCIENCE

573

DR. ROBERT WILLIAMS WOOD

MSCAKCH PKOrBSSOB OF EXPERIMENTAL PHTSIOB AT THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNITXB8ITT, WHO WAS

AWARDED THE HENRY MUPCR MEDAL.

on this proposal for several years ; at the
hnsiness meeting of the Academy the
committee submitted a proposed consti-
tution for the Fund together with recom-
mendations for its administration. The
constitution was adopted by the Acad-
emy. The object of the National Science
Fund, as stated in its constitution, “shall
be the promotion of human welfare
through the advancement of science.”
Under the spofiiiiprship of the Nationid
Academy of Sci^ces, the National Sci-
ence Fund may reemve bequests, dona-
tions, grunts and other gifts to be ad-
mini^red by a Board of Directors
appointed by the Council of the Acad-

emy. The Academy is the i^oial sci-
entific adviser to the Government and is
qualified to evaluate the needs of science
and to assure wise use of funds provided
for research in science. To administer
the National Science Fund the Council
of the Academy appointed a Board of
Ilirectors consisting of 12 non- Academy
members, and 17 Academy members; in
addition, the President and Treasurer of
the Academy, the Chairman of the Na-
tional Research Council, and the Presi-
dait of the American Association' for
the Advancement of Science serve as
cx officio members.

Organised as an agency of the Na-

574

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

K ill

tional Academy of Sciences^ the National
Science Fund is a permanent mechanism
which affords donors, who may desire to
devote funds to the welfare of mankind
through research in science, assurance
that wise administration will safeguard
the entrusted funds and disburse them
in support of effective original work in
science.

The Henry Draper Medal was awarded
to Robert Williams Wood, research pro-
fessor in experimental physics at the
Johns Hopkins University, in recogni-

ami

'•;v-

■r

''V,' . . ■{' Cl'i

’■'m

'■i,.

DR. J. R. OFPENHBIMER
PBOFSSSOR or FHTBIOB, VKiyBaSIVY Of CAL1<
FOENIA, BBRXBUBT.

' ' 'ii x

V',‘

I . ^ ^ . '

V - J . rt

. 'I'"

DB. W. B. BACHMANN
PBOrSaSOB or OEOANIO OBlUISTItT,
VKIVEB8ITY OP MICRIOAN.

tion of bis contributions to astronomical
physics ; more especially bis pioneer work
upon resonance spectra, his use of color
filters in astronomical photography and
his development of methods for concen-
trating to a high degree the light from
difiFraction gratings in desired orders
and regions of the spectrum. Such grat-
ings not only are of great value in solar
and laboratory spectroscopy, but have
made possible the use of higher disper-
sk>u than has hitherto been employed in

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

575

the study of stellar spectra and the ex-
tension of observations into the far ultra-
violet. Dr. Wood’s experiments with
objective grating replicas have also led
to results of great promise in the photog-
raphy of spectra of faint stars. In his
presentation speech Dr. Otto Struve of
Yerkes Observatory emphasized the re-
markable advances which Dr. Wood has
made in the ruling of diffraction grat-
ings. Through selection and shaping of
the point of bis ruling diamond Dr.

DB. JOSEPH BLEPIAN
aSSXAaOR BNOINlZa, wksvinobodsb xlbotbio

ANO lIANUrACTtmiMO COICPANT.

Wood has succeeded in throwing as
much as one half of the incident light
into a chosen order of the spectrum. He
was the first to achieve excellent results
in ruling gratings on films of aluminum
evaporated on glass. As a result a Wood
grating with high concentration qf light
is one of the most effective instruments
of research in stellar spectroscopy. It
has made potllble the analysis of the
spectra of the brighter stars on a large
scale, has opened up the almost unex-

DR. L. P. SMALL

HEAD CHEMIST, NATIONAL INSTITUTE OF HEALTH.^

DB. W. M. STANLEY

STOOHSMIST, BOCXBFBLLBE IN S Tl TIj TE FOE MEDI-
CAL BESXABOB, nUNCEION.

576

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

DB. KABL SAX

PROFESSOR OP BOTANY, HARVARD UNIVEBSlTy.

DB. QEOBGE B. W18LOCKI

PR0PB880B or ANATOMY, HARVARD HBDIOAD

8CHOOL.

BE. J. T. PATTEBSON BE. MBlm JULES BUBOS

PROPESBOR OF ZOOLOOY, UNIVBR8ITY OF TEXAS. ROOKEFELLER INSTITOITI FOR MBDIOAt RiniBARCE.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

577

DR. GVABTS A. GRAHAM

PBOFESSOR OF BUBOERY, SCHOOL OF HEOIOINE,
WASBINOTON UNIVERSITY, ST. LOUIS.

plored ultraviolet region of stellar spec-
tra, and has already led to discoveries of
interest regarding the constitution of the
gases in interstellar space.

On Monday afternoon 75 Academy
members and guests visited the National
Gallery of Art which was erected through
the generosity of the late Andrew W.
Mellon and was opened to the public only
a few weeks ago. Special guides showed
the visitors through the gallery and com-
mented upon the various collections of
paintings and works of art which were
well exhibited and were greatly admired.
The architectural effects and beauty of
the building itself attracted attention
and impressed the group profoundly.
The short visit was extremely interest-
ing and was appreciated by the visitors.

At its business meeting on Wednesdky,
April 80, the Academy elected the fol-
lowing officers and members :

Viee-Pretident

Dr, Isaiah Bowman, prastdent of the Johns
Hopkiaa TJaiversl^, Baltimore, ICd.
Mtmbm of the Ooimett of the Aoademf/

B. A. llitehell, Leander MeOormiok Observa-

DR. GEORGE GAYLORD SIMPSON

VERTEBRATE PALEONTOLOatST, AXERICAN HU6RUM
OF NATURAL HISTORY.

tory. University of Virginia, Oharlottesville,
Va.

E. B. Fred, professor of bacteriology. Univer-
sity of Wisconsin, Madison, Wis.

New Foreign Aeeooiatee

Edgar Douglas Adrian, professor of physiol-
ogy and fellow of Trinity College, Cam-
bridge University, Cambridge, England.

Archibald Vivian Hill, Foulerton research pro-
fessor and secretary of the Royal Society,
London, England.

Sir Arthur Keith, Bnckston Browne Farm,
Downe, Kent, England.

Fifteen men, whose portraits are here
reproduced with the exception of Dr.
Alfred L. Loomis of the Loomis Labora-
tories, Tuxedo Park, N. J., were elected
to membership in the A<»demy.

The present mmbership of the Acad-
emy is 819 with a membership limit of
850, There are 5 members emeriti.
The number of foreign associates is 42
with a limit of 50.

The autumn meeting of the Academy
will be held this year on. October 18, 14
and IS at the University of Wisconsin,
Madison, Wisconsin.

P. E. Wmqht,
Some Secretary

578

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

DR. £UOBNl£ DUBOIS, 1859-1940

It has been learned that Dr. Eugene
Dubois, famous for his discovery, in
1891, of the skullcap of the Java ape-
man, known as Pithecanthropus erectus,
recently died at his home in Holland at
the age of 82 years.

No finds relating to human pre-history
have received more attention and pub-
licity than those attributed to the Pithe-
canthropua, and none deaerved mow.
Nor are the diacuasiona yet ended. The
remaina were diacovered between 1890
and 1897 in Java, by or under the di-
rection of Eugene Duboia.

Aa a young pbyaician Dr. Duboia waa
appointed to the aervice in Java aa a
reault of hia own efforta. He waa al-
ready an accompliahed anatomiat, pale-
ontdogiat and student of human ances-
try, ahd he went with the object of

searching for possible human ancestors
in the East Indies. From 1887 he served
aa a “Health-Officer” in the military
organization of the Colonies, but a con-
siderable part of bis time was devoted
to a search of the eaves in Sumatra and
the collection of fossils.

In 1889 Dubois came to Java, and in
April of that year he was delegated by
the Colonial government, at his own de-
sire, “to extend his studies to the tertiary
and diluvial fauna of Java.” From
then on until the middle of 1895, the
government Mining Bulletin carried
quarterly a report Dubois or others
on the progress of his work, and it is in
these reports that the original accounts
of his fortunate discoveries are recorded.

The first note of importance is foimd
in the report for the first quarter of 1890.

THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE

579

Dr. Dubois anuounces that he had dis-
covered, on November 24, 1890, in the
so-called Kendeng deposits of the water-
shed of the Bengawan river, a human
fossil, consisting of a fragment of a
lower jaw.

The first report by Dubois on the finds
relating more directly to the Pithecan-
thropus appears in the third quarter of
1891. Speaking of the work near Trinil
he says : “The most remarkable find how-
ever was a molar tooth (the upper third
permanent molar of the right side) of a
chimpanzee.”

In his report for the fourth quarter
of 1891, Dubois announces the discovery
of the skullcap, gives the first notes and
measurements on it, and attempts its
classification. He says: “The Pleisto-
cene fauna of Java, which in Seiitember
of this year was augmented by a molar
of a chimpanzee, was much further en-
riched a month later. Close to the spot
in the left bank of the river where the
molar appeared, there was unearthed a
fine skullcap which, with even less doubt
than the molar, may be attributed to
the genus Anthropopithecus troglodytes.
That both the specimens come from a
great manlike ape, is at once clear.”

The next note of much interest by
Dubois is found in his report for the
third quarter of 1892. He here an-
uounces the discovery of the femur, and
gives the form represented by the finds
its first specific name. The femur was
discovered, he states, at the same level
as the skullcap and the tooth, but 15
meters (nearly 50 ft.) further upstream;
and it is plain to him that the three
specimens, the tooth, skullcap and femur,
belong to the same individual, probably
a female of advanced age. ‘‘Through
each of the three recovered skeletal parts,
and especially by the thighbone, the
Anthropopithecus erectus Bug. Dubois
approaches man more closely than does
any other antnopoid.”

With the season of 1898 the excava^
tions at Trinil came to an end; and
towards the end of the second quarter

of 1895, Dubois himself departed for
Europe.

In 1894 Dubois ’4rst important report
on the Trinil remains appears under the
title ** Pithecanthropus erectus ^ '"eine
menscfhenahnliche Uebergangsform aus
Java.” In this he characterizes the new
form as follows : Order : Primates. New
family : Pitheeanthropidae.

In the same original, able and pains-
taking memoir, Dr. Dubois gives his
principal measurements of the skull and
corresponding measurements of four
chimpanzees and two gibbons.

All the above showed conclusively to
Dubois that the form could not be as-
stTibed to the Simiidae; at the same time,
numerous characteristics of the skull,
those of the teeth, and some features
even of the femur, indicate that the form
cannot be classed with those of the
Hominidae, It is an intermediary form
which necessitates its classification as a
new genus, the Pithecanthropus, and a
new family, the Pitheeanthropidae,
Pithecanthropus erectus is a transitional
form which must have existed between
man and the anthropoids; “it is the
precursor of man.”

Dubois’ reports on the Java finds, and
above all the specimens themselves after
he brought them to Holland, attracted
naturally the liveliest attention of the
scientific world. A number of promi-
nent anthropologists, paleontologists, and
anatomists, such as Manouvrier, Marsh,
Flower, Virchow, Smith Woodward, Sir
William Turner, Schwalbe and others,
were given the privilege of seeing the
specimens; and on September 16-21,
1895, the originals were exhibited to all
before the Third International Zoologi-
cal Congress at Deyden, where they
received great attention and much
discussion.

Dubois’ discovery was universally
acknowledged as one of great impor-
tance; but his views were soon com-
batted. The case presented two main
problems. The first was the qu^ion of
whether the seVei^ parts, «.e., the skull,

580

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

the two teeth and the femur, belonged
to the same individual or at least to the
same form ; the other, that of the identi-
fication of this form.

But all this is not the pivotal essential
of the find, and diminishes in no wise its
high interest and value, both of which
are universally acknowledged, particu-
larly since the endocranial cast has be-
come available. Neither should the stu-
dent allow himself to be confused by the
seeming flood of discrepancies of opinion
on the remains. The differences are
often more apparent than real, and even
where real they by no means discredit
the find, but are only so many attempts,
under all the great limitations of our
present collections and knowledge, to
reach a true conclusion.

The Trinil skull alone is sufficient to
establish the presence in what is now
Java, somewhere during the early Quat-
ernary, and possibly earlier, of a class
of beings that so resembled the anthro-
poid apes, on one hand, and came so far
in the direction of man in the other, that
if they were to be named today we could
hardly find a more appropriate name for
them than ‘ * Pithet^anthropus. ’ *

In recent years a number of additional
specimens that may be attributed to the
Pithecanthropus were found in the same
region of Java. These arc not yet fully
described, but do not change the main
conclusions of Dubois.

AlE§ HfiDLieKA

.tJ. 8. National Museum

tHE BIOLOGY ALCOVE OF THE SMITHSONIAN^S NEW *TNDEX EXHIBIT

The whole field of the biological sci-
ences is too vast for any one institution
to cover. Like other research organiza-
tions, the Smithsonian has bad to re-
strict its own labors to a small section of
it and has remained faithful to the old
descriptive aspects of biology, where it
has been one of the most pr^uctive in-
stitutions in the classical fields of taxon-
omy and biogeography, leaving to newer
laboratories, unencumbered with the care
and responsibility of great museum col-
lections, the more recent experimental

approaches to the science. The biology
alcove in the Smithsonian’s new Index
Exhibit” accordingly has for its central
theme ”the forms of life.” Here, on a
hypothetical diagrammatic ^‘tree,” are
painted the main groups of animal and
plant life, arranged to show their sup-
posed relationships.

Flanking this are exhibits illustrating
the work involved in ^description and
classification” on the one side and ”va-
riation and distribution” on the other.
In the former, the theme is developed

THE BIOLOGY ALCOVE IN THE SMITHSONIAN ‘‘INDEX EXHIBIT

THE OINTEB OHAET IS A DtAOBAM OT THE TOSKS Of LIFE. THE LEFT PANEL EEMONSTEATSS CLASSI-
FICATION AND DBSCaiPTXON, THE EIOHT ONE PBBSENTS VAEIATION AND mSTBlBHTlON.

INUmDUAL VARIATION

AN BXIItBIT TO 8BOW aPKOiriG PHA8KS OF BIOLOOIOAL WOBK. VABUTI0N8 IN TBB 8A1IX 8PZCIXS
ABB BXBMPUFIBD IN TBIS CABB BT BPBCUIXNS OP BirrTBBPI.IBS AND SHELLS.

around the basic work, the first main
step, that of collecting the materials for
the specialists to study. In the upper
center is a map of the world, showing all
the places where Smithsonian biologists
have explored and collected in the past
ten years. This map is enlivened by a
series of colored transparencies showing
field parties at work in various parts of
the world. Under this is a recessed case
of "recently received material of special
interest, ’ ’ containing at pment a series
of Siamese fresh water fishes, showing
remarkable adaptive features and habits.
On either side of the expedition map is
a vertical rec^tmed case — one with the
title, "Colleetikg Bxpeditions Add New
Species to Knowledge," and the other,

"Collecting Expeditions Add New Facts
About Known Species." In the former
are shown a few selected specimens of
new species discovered as a result of
Smithsonian work, the total number of
which is estimated to be over one hun-
dred thousand. In the other case are il-
lustrated groups of animals and plants
being monographed at the present tiime.

The exhibits dealing with "variation
and distribution" comprise three re-
cessed cases. The central one is devoted
to tike matter of the great range of indi-
vidual variation in nature— some species
being very variable and others quite con-
stant. The examples used at present are
mollusks and butte^es. The case to the
left of this one demmistrates geograph-

582

THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

ioal variation and the phenomenon of
geo^aphical subspecific groups — ^the
song sparrow being used as the illustra-
tion. The right-hand case explains bio-
geography and shows on two colored
hemispheres the main biological regions

of the world and illustrates by means of
specimens the peculiarities of one of
these faunal areas, in this case, the Aus-
tralian region.

Herbert FRiEiDMaNN
SMiTHaoKiAN Institution

PHYSICISTS IN NATIONAL DEFENSE

In his report to the Governing Board
of the American Institute of Physics,
Dr. Henry Barton estimated that one out
of every four physicists in the United
States is working on problems of national
defense. The estimated number is 1,400
out of a total 4,100 physicists who are
members of at least one national profes-
sional society in physics.

A recent survey of more than 130 uni-
versities indicates tliat, of their total staff
of 1,100 professors and instructors of
physics, over 100 have recently been
called away from their campuses for offi-
cial defense research projects. At least
another 200 have been named consultants
or assigned full- or part-time defense
tasks at their home institutions. Some
50 graduate students of physics have
dropped their studies to accept defense
assignments.

In addition, there is approximately
300 physicists in the technical services of
the army, navy, air corps and other gov-
ernment departments, mostly full time,
and of these at least 250 are at work on
problems intimately cbncerned with na-
tional defense. It is estimated that ^00
of the 2,500 trained physicists employed
in industry are at work on problems re-
lated to national defense, and the de-
mands of defense agencies and industries
for physicists is greater than can b4 met.

In industry it is estimated that 2,500
trained physicists are employed, many
of them in the research laboratories of

large corporations. On the basis of re-
ports received at the institute office, at
least 800 of these have gone onto new
work programs in line with the needs of
national defense. Indeed, if all work
designed to improve or speed the produc-
tion of defense materials and products
be counted, the number is greater than
800.

Not only is the supply of physicists
being strained, but the output of new
physicists is being curtailed. The men
who have been called from universities
for defense research are often those best
fitted to train new research physicists.
However, their remaining colleagues are
assuming increased teaching loadi^ to
keep up the standards of training offered
to students.

Unfortunately, the careers of many
students are about to be disrupted by the
draft. Most of them are unmarried and
of draft age. Unless something can be
done to keep these much needed students
in the graduate schools, the number of
men receiving advanced training in phys-
ics will drop to less than half of the
cent average of 130 per year. What the
country needs is to multiply this figure
rather than to cut it. Since a thorough
training in physics requires three or four
years of gr^uate study, it is nearly im-
possible to increase the annual increment
of good new physicists. Therefore, every
effort should made at least to keep
it up. <nr

INDEX

NAMES OF CONTRIBUTORS ARE PRINTED IN SMALL CAPITAIiS

OivUisatioiif The Physieist asd Evolving^ L.

Abbot, 0. G., Astronomy Section of Smithsonian
Institution ''Index Exhibit^” 378
Allen, W. E*, Ocean Pasturage in California
Waters, 261

AloOtian Islands, Exploration of Mummy Oaves
in the, A. Hrdli^ka, 5, 113
American Association for the Advancement of
Beienoe, Philadelphia Meeting, F, B. Moul-
ton, 86, 184; Durham Meeting, P. K. Moul-
ton, 568

Andrews, E, A,, Ant Mounds in Summer Woods,
530

Ant Mounds in Stiiumer Woods, K. A. Andrews,
530

Art, The Real in, J. B. Shaw, 539
Astrology, Scientists Look at, B. J. BoK and
M. W. Mayall, 233

Aui^hter, E, 0., Washington Exhibit of Bureau
of Plant Industry, 94

Bahm, A. J., What is Philosophy I, 653
Banting, Frederick G., J. C. Collip, 473
Biology, Race Concept in, T. Dobzhansky, 161
Birds, Expedition to Study Mexican, 283
Bok, B. j., and M. W. Mayall, Scientists Look
at Astrology, 238
Bombproof Shelters, 486
Books on Science for Laymen:

American Mammals, W. J. Hamilton, Jr., 566;
Chemical Pioneers, W, Hajrnes, 81 ; Chemistry
in Warfare, F. A. Hessel, M, S. Hessel and
W. Martin, 875; Comparative Psychology of
Mental Development, H. Werner, 82; Desert
Wild Flowers, E. C, Jaeger, 81; Developmen-
tal Anatomy, L. B. Arey, 181; Dynamies of
Indammation, V. Menkin, 470; Evolution of
Land Plants, D. H. Campbell, 275; Integra-
tion of the Personality, C. G. Jung, 469; John
and William Bartram, E. Earnest, 180 ; Man-
kind in the Making, M. C. Borer, 180 ; Miracle
of Life, H. Wheeler, ed., 277; More Years
for the Asking, P. J. Steinerohn, 567; New
Bystematies, J. Huxley, ed., 276; Organisers
and Genes, C. H. Waddington, 374; Penobscot
Man, F. G. Speck, 470; Scienco on Parade,
A. F. Collins, 471 ; Stars and Men, 8. A. and
M. L. lonides, 83; Truth about the Cuckoo,
E. Chance, 565; Twilight of Man, £. A.
Hooton, 274; ITnconquered Enemy, B. Boko-
loR, 378 ; Unresting Cells, B. W. Gerard, 371 ;
Wartime Control of Prices, C. 0. Hardy, 372;
Whale Oil, K. Brandt, 178 ; Why Men Behave
Like Apes and Vice Versa, E. A. Hooton, 274:
World of Plant Life, 0. J. fiylander, 179;
Your Mental Health, B. liber, 871
Booth, A. W«, Can tj. 8. Have Butter and
Gunsf. 442

B0TT8, A. K., Tho Character of Weather, 534
BunDBXTE, J. D., Ori|^ of our Numerals, 265
BtrnKs, B. B., Heredity and Mental Traits, 462
Burning of Gaseous Explosive Mixtures, Nor-
mal, E. F. Fiocm, 216, 849
Butter and Gansf, Can U. S* Have, A. W.
Booth, 442

Census, The, 291

Chromoso^ies and Nucleoli, New Method for
Btainingi B. B. Gates, 886

Tonks, 430

Clark, A. H., Science Progress through Pdblic-
ity, 257

('OLLiP, J. C., Frederick G. Banting, 473
Colorado Museum, New Auditorium at, 290
(*OLTON, H. B., Prehistoric Trade in the Boutb-
wost, 308

C^iBT, B. E., Land Tenure in Tunisia, 403
OUMMiNK, 11., Ancient Finger Prints in Clay,
389

Darwinism Came to the United States, How,
W. M. Smallwood, 342

Davenport, C. B., Post-Natal Development of
the Hoad, 197

Development of the Head, Post-Natal, C. B.
Davenport, 197

Disease Damage in Grains, N. E, Steven h, 364
Dobzkansky, T., Race Concept in Biology, 161
Dowlin, C. M., Science at America’s First Uni-
versity, 604

Drake, 0. A., Higher Education, 367
Dubois, Eugene, A. Hrdli^^ka, 578

Education, Higher, C. A. Drake, 367
Environmentalism, Fields of, R. 0. Peattie, 561
Ethics, A Physicist’s View of, G. A. Fink, 146
Explosive Mixtures, The Normal Burning of
Gaseous, E. F. FiOCK, 216, 349

Fee, j., Maupertuis and the Principle of Least
Action, 496

Finger Prints in Clay, Ancient, H. Cummikb,
389

Fink, G, A., A Physicist ’s View of Ethics, 146
FiooK, E. F., Normal Burning of Gaseous Ex-
plosive Mixtures, 216, 349
Forest Fire Control, Progress in, G, M. Gowrn,
522

Forestry and Grazing in the Southern Pine Belt,
£. Terry, 245

Fobhag, W. F., Geology Alcove of Smithsonian
Institution "Index Exhibit,’’ 479
Franklin Institute, Paper-Making Machine at^
E. D. Wallace, 484

Friedman, H., Biology Alcove of the Smithson-
ian ’s New Index Exhibit, 680

Garvey, B. 8., Jr., Synthetic Rubber, 48
Gaseous Explosive Mixtures, The Normal Burn-
ing of, E. F. Fiock, 216, 849
Genes, Distribution of Human, H. H. S^Nir
8KOV, 208

Gilun, j., Emergent Races and Cultures in
South America, 268

Gowsk, G. M., Progress in Forest Fire Control,
522

Grains, Disease Damage in, N. E. Stevens, 864
Grating in the Southern Pine Belt, The Future
of Forestry and, £. I. Tebrt, 245
Grippitr, 1 ., Sea— Inside, 293
Growth of an Idea, The, 0. E. Ssabrorb, 488

Head, Post-Natal Development of the, D. B.
Davenport, 197

Heart that Fails, The, 0. J, Wigoers, 34
HeduOxa, A.,h Eugene Dubois, 577 ; ' Mummy
Oaves in the Aleutian Islands, Exnloratioii
of, 6^ 118

588

|i84 THE SCIENTIFIC MONTHLY

Idea, The Growth of an, C. £. SEAsnoas, 438
ladJaiMi, Oarrier, J. H. Steward, 280
Itthedtanee of Meivtal Defect, L. Penrose, 359

dSNNxaoN, M. ‘W., Dynamics of Sneeaiiig, 24
dimiffraujoeh, the High* Alpine Univernty, 882

Land Tenure in Tunisia, B. E. Crist, 403
Langmuir, Irring, W. B» Whitney, 183
Lawyer, Heredity, and the, A. S. Wiener, 139
Leake, C. D., Beligio Scientiae, 166
Lehman, H. C., The Creative Years, 450
Lodge, Oliver, W. F. G. Swann, 279

McDouoal, D. T., Trends in Plant Science, 487
Mackun, M. T., Heredity and the Physician,
56

Maupertuis and the Principle of Ijcaat Action,
J. Fee, 496

Medical Gave, Indivldttid Vi. Group, 289
Mental, Defect, Inhoir^iMie of, L. S. PtoaosE,
859 ; Traits, Heredity Rlid« B. B. BORiOB, 462
Msneel, D. il, Ptnface lo Mar Beseaveh, 320
Microsme, The Electrcnpi^ T. A. Smith, 887
Miller, tfaidon C., W. E. Wiorenden, 377
Miner, J. B., and J. Berkson, B. Pearl, 192
Morgan, A. F., Vitamins and Senesc^gmo, 416
Moiti/ton, F. B., American Association for the
Advancement of Science, Philadelphia Meet*
ing, 86, IM; Durham Meeting, 568; Salt of
the Earth, 386

Mummy Caves in the Aleutian Islands, Explora-
tion of, A. Hrdu5ka, 5, 113

National Academy of Sciences, F. E. Wright,
572; Gallery of Art, 475; Institute of Health,
L. Thompson, 91

New Guinea Group in American Museum of
Nalmiid A. L. Band, 380

NEF'Mhih iG# H., Aspects of Twin Besearch, 99
NiKt^OROfV^ 0. C., Soil Dynamics, 422
Numerals, Origin of Our, J. D. Buddhus, 265

Ocean Pasturage in California Waters, W. E.
Allen, 261

O'Conor, J. S., Science and True Beligion, 373

Pearl, B., J. B. Miner and J. Berkson, 192
Peattie, B. C., Fields of Environmentalism, 561
Penrobe, L», Inheritance of Mental Defect, 359
Philosophy f, What Is, A. J. Babm, 553
Physician, Heredity and thg, M. T« Macklin, 56
Physicist and Evolving Cmlisation, L. Tonks,
430 ; in National Defense, 582
Plant Industry, Washington Exhibit of Burlau
of, E. C. Aucrtkr, 94; Scienee, Trelidt in,
D. T. MoDougal, 487
Plantation System, The Tropical, L.

156

Plants, Nutrition and G^^owth of, H.

PonuAS, E. J., and P, KwtoxT, Automalie
for the Behroidt Td8le<M, 286
Frese in American dUee, E. Trorndike, 44
Progress of Bclenee, 84, 182, 27^276, 472, 568
Publieity, Scienee Progreer A. H.

Clark, 257 '

Baee Coiumt in Biology, % Dorzra^By, 161
Bacas and Cultures In sot ^

J. 0ILLIN, 268

Band, 4. L.. New
ItfikiMaiL 0 f Natural
Saittk, fit., Nutrition aii6;

uth ikteertm., Bxaargent,

erican
its^ 188

fit-

BeUi^ Seientia^ 0. B.lMMiii .

BaNgion, SeieBee utA TrOf, /. 8. 0 'Osiliilm 178

•' ■ J

Beuyl, D., The White Dwarf Stars, 131
Bubber, SyntheSe, B. B. Garvey, Jr., 48

Balt of the Earth, F. Bl Moulto:^ 386
Beienee, and True Beligion, J. S. O 'Conor, 175 ;
at America's First university, C. M. Dowun,
504; in a Disuniiled World, Unlfyiag, M. B.
Bingir and A. Kaplan, 79; Scienee Progross
through Publicity, 257

Scientists and Their Organizations, Amateur, W.
8. Thomas, 68 ; Look at Astrology, B. J. BOK
and M. W. Matall, 238
Sea-^Inside, I. Gbifpith, 293
Seashore, C. E., The Growth of an Idea, 438
Senescence Vitamins and, A. G. MofRGAN, 416
Shaw, J. B., The Beal in Art, 539
Singer, M. B., and A. Kaplan, Unifying Scienee
in a Disunided World, 79
Smallwood, W. M., How Darwinism Came to
the United States, 342
Smith, T. A., Electron Microscope, 357
Si^bnsman Institution, ** Index Exhibit" at,
w. True, 195: Astronomy, Section, C. G.
Abbot, 378 ; Biology Section, H. Friedman,
580; Geology Section, W. F. Fobhaq, 479
Sneezing, Dynamics of, M. W. Jennison, 24
Soil Ih^mics, C. C. Nikiporoff, 422
Solar Besearch, Preface to, D. H. Menzbl, 320
South America, Emergent Baces and Cultures in,
J. Gillin, 268

South Dakota Badlands, Paleontological Expe-
dition into, 482
Spectaroeeop^ 385 «

Stars, The White Dwarf, D. Brutl, 131
Stevens, N. E., Diaease Damage in Grains, 364
Steward, J. H., Carrier Indians, 280
StrandsKOv, H« H., Distribution of Human
Genes, 203

Swann, W. F. G., Oliver Lodge, 279

Telescope, Automatic Drive for the Schmidt, E.

J. PoiTRAS and F. Zwioky, 286
Terry, E. I., Forestry and Grazing in the South*
ern Pine Belt, 245 «

Thomas, W. S., Amateur Scientists and their
Orgnniiations, 68

I'HOMPSON, L., National Institute of Health, 91
Thorndike, E., Press in American Cities, 44
Tonks, L., The Physicist and Evolving Civiliza-
tion, 430 ^

Trade in the Southwest, Prehistoric, H. 8. Col-
ton, 808

Tropical Flantatioii System, L. Waibbl, 156
True, W., "Index Exhibit" at Smithsogian In-
stitution, 195

Tunisia, Irad Tonuro in, B. H Crist, 403 *

Twin Bosoarch, Aiqmets of, H, H. NNWiiaN, 99

Vitamins and Benbsemioe, A. F, M<»gan, 416

Waibbl, L., Tr<mieal Plantation BysMi, 156
Wallace, E. d., Paper-Making llacniiie at
Franklin Institute, 484
Weather, The Charaetor of, A« K. Botts, 534
WHiTNBf,> W. B., Iioiilir LangmNir, 183
WXOKINDRN, W. 0. Miller, 377

Wiener, A. 8 ., Her4i^'Wn4 the Lawyer, 189
Wiomm, 0. J., Thhl^ mat Phils, 34
W<a<BACii^8, B., fiUuji. 35

Wrighu, F* E«, Natldnm^w^RinMr of Boloncoi,
572 ';..

Tears, The Qrei^p, H. C. Lehman, 459
ZinsMiT, Bans, 8. B. Woldaoh, 85

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Texts

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "The Scientific Monthly Vol - Lii (1941)"

See other formats