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LIBRARY | Fine UNIVERSITY OF WuNois fies * % e e ee es "ni 1 = = ag : wae Smt = « 3, < — r x ¥ <4 apt ra z * 4 “« “4 Pas z « et * = mn — = ~— 4 4 _ 2 - a * 5 a+ ¥ *s FS ¥ a - * 5 1. iD Z ara (2 ‘ ¥ : a - > : s ba ie vee € : , ra => ewe - : re - on = ion Fain : ; és * % 5 d + - g a: a Ac a - be my Ei Se a; anes ~ 7 Bio Sera r zat % 7 Nae < = . - < ” ” ” ~ . 7 it brs i 7 - x % “a a z , & a 4 ‘ + F ; : a zi ; a> IO se - eT eS ? - iv oe 3 : 4 mem $ = ¥ s = . = z im. ~ : = A ‘ - t Me Sais Le gi = ead is tk e ne i rs “i Ai o Ke 3 of rs a S F ie ones . og : ; 4 eee Mi F be ‘ ane ey ss Ke -< a i x vat i i . woe * eeigere Ss e : =F Fi - et ew Wh fi t 2 “ . e Basing ¥ San: 3 a phat > ~ ¥ Joke - - ss 2 ” ~ * Saba ae € 2 > - . Le a. > 7 attes A =F Re . Wiacee ‘ S r ~ ; e sat - ¢ ‘ ene > oy, arent 3 5 iS 2 : ‘ és - > * Ine ~ = cL. ~ af : . \% 5 ayy - ped ome ‘ Q . oa yey pro emit ” 1 4 zn - — “ % - _ 5 ‘ 2 ¢ “ a 3 ~ - = % aS ¢ " = ISCARIUS AND DAEDALUS. By Sur Frederick Leighton, 1830-1889. ‘IR FREDERICK LEIGHTON was born at Scarborough, England, Dec. 3, 1830.: _His father was a doctor, but early recognized his son’s, bias toward painting and gave ‘him what he considered the best training for his pro- fession, Atten his father started him ona series of grand tours, visiting Rome, - Blorence, Frankfort; Berlin, Paris, and Brussels... In each of these places he received instructions from the most distinguished masters, He exhibited his first picture (fhe Procession of Cimabue’s Madonna) at the Royal Acadetny in 1855. This picture was bought by the Queen, After this he studied im Paris four years under “Ary Scheffen. ’. He became‘a Royal Academician in 1869, and on the death of Sir Francis Grant in 1878. he was elected see and was knighted, He was created a baronet in 1886, Sir Frederick Leighton is'a scholar and man of the wb 8 as well as.an artist, He has gained great distinction in art, both as painter and sculptor. He won the grand medal of honor for sculpture at the Paris Exposition of 1889, Neches, is acakcely one aia honor that has not been conferred upon him, we THE IDEAS THAT HAVE INFLUENCED CIVILIZATION IN THE ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS OLIVER J. THATCHER, Pu. D. DEPARTMENT OF HISTORY, UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO AUTHOR OF “EUROPE IN THE MIDDLE AGE” (wiTH F. SCHWILL), “A SHORT HISTORY OF MEDIAEVAL EUROPE,” “A GEN: ERAL HISTORY OF EUROPE” (witTH F. SCHWILL), “A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE APOSTOLIC CHURCH.” EDITOR TEN VOLUMES VOL. X 1860-1303 BOSTON CHICAGO THE ROBERTS-MANCHESTER PUBLISHING CO. MILWAUBEE Grand de Hure Edition LIMITED To 1000 CoMPLETE SETS, OF WHICH THIS IS INO, gti hire ey Sutany en COPYRIGHT 1902 BY ROBERTS-MANCHESTER PUBLISHING Co, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED J. H. YEWDALE & SONS Co,, 27; 88 7G Biavias oe } { | EDITOR’S ACKNOWLEDGMENT ALTHOUGH THE EDITOR only is responsible for the matter included in this set of books, yet he has been greatly assisted by the suggestions he has received from specialists in their own fields. As the editing of the last volumes is not yet finished, it is impossible to give full credit for such advice, but the editor takes this opportunity to acknowledge the important counsel or additional suggestions received from: A. H. SAYCE, LL. D., D. D., PROFESSOR OF ASSYRIOLOGY, QUBEN’S COLLEGE, OXFORD UNIVERSITY. CRAWFORD H. TOY, A. M., LL. D., PROFESSOR OF ORIENTAL LANGUAGES, HARVARD UNIVERSITY. WALTER MILLER, A. M., PROFESSOR OF CLASSICAL PHILOLOGY, THE LELAND STANFORD JUNIOR UNIVERSITY HENRY RUSHTON FAIRCLOUGH, PH. D., PROFESSOR OF CLASSICAL LITBRATURE, THE LELAND STANFORD JUNIOR UNIVERSITY. FRANK FROST ABBOTT, PH. D., PROFESSOR OF LATIN, UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO. JOHN CAREW ROLFE, PH. D., PROFESSOR OF LATIN, UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. DANA C. MONRO, A. M., DEPARTMENT OF HISTORY, UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA. EDWARD G. BOURNE, PH. D., PROPEBSSOR OF HISTORY, YALE UNIVERSITY. FERDINAND SCHWILL, PH. D., DEPARTMENT OF MODERN HISTORY, UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO. HARRY BURNS HUTCHINS, LL. D., DEAN OF THE DEPARTMENT OF LAW, UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. WILLIAM H. WELCH, M. D., LL. D., DEAN OF THE MEDICAL FACULTY, JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY. THEODORE WILLIAM RICHARDS, PH. D., DEPARTMENT OF CHEMISTRY, HARVARD UNIVERSITY. PAUL REINSCH, PH. D., DEPARTMENT OF POLITICAL SCIENCE, UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN. H. H. MANCHESTER, A. B., MANAGING EDITOR FOR THE ROBERTS-MANCHESTER PUBLISHING CO . : Rohe at ot Le ILLUSTRATIONS VOLUME X. PAGE ISCARIUS AND DAEDALUS (LEIGHTON) Frontispiece THE KING AND THE BEGGAR MAID (BURNE JONES) 5 KARL MARX 10 BLESSED DAMOZEL (ROSSETTI) 182 -ROENTGEN 227 THE PERIODIC LAW (Table) 254 -PROSERPINE 337 TABLE OF CONTENTS VOLUME X. PaGE SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 5. that Kart Marx 10 Manifesto of the Communist Party II FRIEDRICH ENGELS 31 Scientific Socialism 31 INTERSTATE COMMERCE COMMISSION 52 The Public Control of Railroads 53 A CoMPARISON OF MUNICIPAL AND PRIVATE OWNERSHIP 76 H. W. Macrosty (F asian SOCIETY) IOI English State Socialism IOI SOCIAL CONDITIONS 124 ROBERT SOMERS 124 The South after the War 124 REDFIELD PROCTOR 135 Conditions in Cuba 135 F, H. SAwYeER 147 Prospects in the Philippines 147 Life and Character of the Tagals 155 ARCHAOLOGY 182 F. E. PEISER | 184 A Sketch of Babylonian Society - 184 FHYSICS 208 JAMES CLERK MAXWELL 208 Electricity a Wave in the Ether 209 M. HenrI POINCARE The Maxwell and Hertz Theory of Electricity and Light a2r15 W. K. RoENTGEN The X-Rays WeoecH PREECE Wireless Telegraphy: the Preece and Marconi Systems CHEMISTRY D. J. MENDELEEF The Periodic Law of the Chemical Elements Sir NokMAN LOCKYER The Chemistry of the Stars BIOLOGY Aucust WEISMAN The Continuity of the Germ Plasm as the Foundation of a Theory of Heredity Rospert Kocu Theory of Bacteria Louis PAstTEuR : On Fermentation Inoculation for Hydrophobia PSYCHOLOGY, - Davin FERRIER Localization of the Functions in the Brain Sir WILLIAM CROOKES Telepathy PHILOLOGY THE CONSONANTS (GRIMM’S AND VERNER’S Laws) THE VOWELS THE DERIVATION OF ENGLISH FROM LATIN CHRONOLOGICAL INDEX GENERAL ALPHABETICAL AND ANALYTICAL INDEX yg ‘Whe +f Vi bath } \ L ; | LIERAR GF THE <7 Soe UNIVERSITy op ao. tad | ne o Se <7 — we ASAIO RP RM E TINTS TEE THORNE TS Ye. Gis RTD Natt 8 RRR au 2 ne THE KING AND THE BEGGAR MAID Ry Bape jones! sie toe IR EDWARD BURNE JONES was ee in Rieenigetioe: England, Aug, 28, 1833, of Welsh extraction. He attended King Edward’s, Grammar ‘School of that town from 1844-1852, whem he entered Exeter College, Oxford, with the intention, of taking orders in the.Church of England, But though he was touched: with the ecclesiastical spitit of the place he seems to have felt no: real vocation for the clerical career-and ‘by 1855, while still an, undergraduate, his desire to become an artist had crystallized into aresolye.. He came up to London and was’: ~ introduced. to Rossetti, who perstaded him to abandon the idea’ of returning to . Oxford.’ He received his inspiration as an artist from Rossetti, but developed hig . originality and powerindependently of the: schools. His university made him honorary. D.C. L. in 1881, his college (Exeter) elected him an honorary fellow in 1882, and in 1885,at the suggestion of Sir Frederic Leighton, he was. nominated: .. (without his knowledge) for election at the Royal Academy, and was chosen A. R. A> “ But he only exhibited one picture there, “The Depths of the Sea,” in 1886, and in 1893 resigned his Associateship, He was appointed a Chevalier of the Legion’ of . Honor (in ’89) and elected member of the Institute of France (in °90)..° In the early part of his career he exhibited chiefly under the auspices of the Old Water Colour Society, but in 1870 he left that society, of which, however, he was afterwards an hotiorary member, His pictures-were among the chief attractions at the Grosvenor’. Gallery; but in ’87 he severed his connections with that institution and took a prominent part in the establishment of the New Gallery, In 1894 Queen Victoria, on the advice of Mr, Gladstone, conferred a baronetcy upon him.’ Burne-Jones’ art appeals in all its strength and fullness only to people of @ certain type of mind and education, but to them he appeals’ as no other modern ‘painter has done, He also had remarkable talent for decorative work, He furnished cartoons for stained glass windows and designs for tapestry. and needlework... He gaye much time and thought to his design called “The Tree of Life,” executed in mosaic by Salviati for the American church in cyan for he vai, “Tt is to bein pla ee is to last for eternity.’’ He was Shdyaed Kipling’s sacle. ‘He died June I 7 1598. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS PROBABLY the most important social movement of the present time springs from a conception of the state as a social organism in opposition to the Adam Smith conception of it as economically merely a conglom- eration. of individuals. On the latter theory each individual should be left to himself, competition should be uncontrolled, the government should keep out of economic affairs. On the former basis, the state is an organism which should control all its parts for the good of the whole. Such attempts by government to control trade are not new, but the object would seldom be “for the good of the whole” except where was acknowledged the sovereignty of the people. It is interesting to glance back over such attempts to control industry made by governments, and at the same time compare the efforts made by individuals or classes to control it for their own benefit. In Greece, Sparta by its peculiar laws made itself an agricultural aristocracy with the work done by serfs. Trade was practically anni- hilated. In Athens all were free to come and trade. The government, however, fixed a maximum price on olives, grain, barley meal, bread; saw that the food was kept pure, and the measures correct; and pre- vented a “corner” on grain by compelling two-thirds of that imported to be put on the market. Here, too, as in Sparta, the traders were for- eigners and not a respected class. The manual work was done by slaves. In Italy the land fell into the hands of large slave-holders, who used it for grazing purposes. The government sold imported grain for Jess than the small Italian farmers could raise it, and thus ruined the * 6 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS small farmer for the benefit of the population at Rome. The Roman senator was forbidden from entering into any speculative trade venture, e. g., commerce, or the farming of the revenue; but this law was often avoided by joining an association. Almost all large businesses at Rome were carried on by incorporated associations. A man was advised to send out fifty ships with forty-nine other merchants rather than to send out one on his own account. It gave him the benefit of the law of averages,—acted as now does insurance, which was unknown in those days. Hand labor suffered in social status because of the proximity of slave labor. But this seems to have been lessened to some extent by the existence of trade corporations. ‘Numa is fabled to have divided workmen into nine classes, each of which became a society. Such associations later became regular corporations, and exerted considerable influence on the economics of the time. The membership seems both in the time of the republic and empire to have been voluntary, but they seem to have included practically all free craftsmen in the large cities. Taken altogether the system of the empire was decidedly paternal. Mines and roads of communication were owned by the government, and the emperor paid very close attention to affairs which we should now consider strictly municipal. During the middle ages, practically all trades were under control of trade guilds. We read of a weavers’ and fullers’ guild in England as early as 1130. No one was permitted by the king to follow an occu- pation unless a member of the guild, and an apprenticeship, usually of seven years, was necessary before a man could be admitted to a guild. Merchant guilds also existed early, but liberty in buying and selling was in general given to all in England in 1335. From the twelfth to the eighteenth century the guilds practically regulated industry, sub- ject to the control of the king. In the eighteenth century the guilds did not keep pace with the growth of the great industries, and were fiercely attacked by the laissez-faire school of economists. Their influence waned and the laws in their favor were left uninforced. The law compelling apprenticeship was abolished in 1814, and all trade privileges of the guilds taken away. But not long after this trade unions began to be developed to take their place. Even before the time of the Tudors it was the custom of the king to give the monopoly of dealing in a certain article to some favorite as a reward. In the time of Elizabeth these monopolies included such SOCIAL MC VEMENTS 3 things as salt, currants, iron, playing cards, carriage of leather, ashes, coals, bottles, vinegar, etc. The growth of the system roused great discontent, a fierce struggle was waged against it in Parliament in 1601, and Elizabeth promised to revoke the patents. The matter was again brought to a crisis under James I. by the extortion of the licensers of inns, and the whole power was taken from the Crown except in the case of patent rights. During the next century Parliament gave exclu- sive power to trade in some certain district to a particular company formed for exploitation or colonization, as, for example, the East India Company or the many American companies, but the economic ideas of Adam Smith at the end of the eighteenth century overthrew even this policy, and since then the government has confined exclusive privileges given to private individuals to patents or copyrights. Nineteenth century socialism came in with the century. Fourier in 1808 published his theoretical pantheistic view of the world and main- tained that all civilization had been but putting the world farther from its Creator. His phantasies passed without effect, but in 1817 Owen laid a scheme for a socialistic community before the House of Com- mons committee on the poor law. A number of such social communities sprang up, among them the famous Brook Farm in the United States, but practically all were short lived. In 1831 the workingmen of Lyons, France, rose in revolt under a banner inscribed “Live working or die fighting.” A like movement was the Chartist revolts by workingmen in the thirties, for although their demands were political, yet the ground of the discontent was primarily economic. All of these movements had their rise and fall leaving little permanent results except the establishment of trade unions, but showing an important undercurrent in society, when Karl Marx gave a scientific expression to the movement in Germany. Karl Marx (1818-1883) was of Jewish descent. He was a lawyer, but gave up his profession for social studies. Between 1843 and 1845 he was in Paris, and published several articles on socialism, At this time, also, he met his lifelong friend, Friedrich Engels. In 1845 he was expelled from Paris and settled in Brussels. A society of socialists had been organized as the Communist League and at a congress held in 1847, Marx and Engels gave to the world the famous “Manifesto of the Communist Party” included below. In 1867 Marx published the first volume of his great work “Das Kapital.” The basis of his system is Locke’s idea that the source of 8 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS tf value and property is labor. Hence he argues that all surplus product over the necessary subsistence of the laborer belongs to the laborer, but he declares that as a fact this goes to the capitalist. This theory found an important result in the formation of The International, a league of workmen of the continent which lasted from 1864 to 1872, and in the gradual growth of trade unions. One of the first organizers of modern trade unions in Germany was Ferdinand Lassalle, but at his death in 1864 his general workingmen’s union numbered only 4,610 members. In a great congress at Eisenach in 1869 representatives of the many outside unions founded the social democratic workingmen’s party and a combination was made with the Lassalle party in 1875. The two to- gether by this time numbered 25,000 members. Since this time the socialists have been an important power in German politics. In England from 1799 to 1824 there had grown up a mass of laws against restriction of trade, as a reaction against the mercantile theory of the eighteenth century. Until 1824 it was a crime to belong to a union. Such restrictions were partly removed in that year and more fully in 1871. In the United States there were many local unions early in the century, but the first union including aH the main trades of a city seems to have been in 1833 in New York. In 1861 a number of trades had a national organization. After the war organization was again begun and spread rapidly until the panic of ’73. From 1877 to 1893 the labor unions seem to have had a rapid growth and the decrease in the panic of ’93 was only about 12 per cent., not as great as during previous de- pressions. To-day practically all general trades are well organized, especially in cities of some size. | The necessity of a city water supply, the general spread of lighting by gas, the invention of the railroad in 1814, of the telegraph in 1835, of the telephone in 1878, of the incandescent electric light in 1879, and the introduction of electric street railways all created a class of indus- tries which have been called “natural monopolies.” They are all public utilities, and only one is essential in a given field; that is, each plays an important part in present day civilization, has in fact, become a public necessity, and as each is practically unlimited in possible capacity, it is vastly more economical to have one industry than two or more of the same kind in the same field. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 9 Since 1882 another class of partial monopolies has sprung up. In 1882 the Standard Oil Company was organized, which was able to con- trol about 85 per cent. of the total output of refined oil in the United States. Since then a vast number of such combinations have been formed, all aiming to control the most of the output and the prices in their lines. Vast capital, enabling them to wait for returns, better freight rates, which their greater volume of business has enabled them to procure, the cutting off of routine expenses and the expense of com- petitive selling, have all given them an advantage over the small com- petitor. These are real economic advantages. The evils result chiefly from an ability to charge too high where there is a virtual monopoly ; special rates from public utilities such as railroads; and undue influ- ence in city councils and other legislative bodies. The question of the control of such monopolies is one that is sure to be of the greatest importance.in the near future. It involves a direct opposition between the idea of government as made up of individuals with the consequent /aissez-faire principles of economy, and the idea of it as a social organism where the whole should supervise all its parts. Most of our ideas of government ownership or control come, though bereft of its most radical features, from the socialism of Marx and Engels. This in a far less extreme form is also the basis of the socialist party of Germany—the strongest single party in numbers in the empire —and of the state socialism represented by the Fabian Society, for example, in England. 10 KARL MARX Kart Marx was born of Jewish parents at Treves, in the province of the Rhine, May 5, 1818. He studied at Bonn and Berlin, and began the practice of law, then gave it up, and became editor of a radical news- paper that was suppressed because of its attacks on the Prussian gov- ernment. THe moved to Paris, but was expelled in 1845, and went to Brussels, where he founded a German workingman’s association, and issued (with Engels) his famous “Manifesto” given below. He again became editor of the Rheinische Zeitung at Cologne, but it was again suppressed, and he went to England, where were his head- quarters for the rest of his life. The International Workingmen’s Association was founded in 1864. The first volume of Das Kapital was issued in 1867. Marx starts in with Locke’s idea that the basis of property is labor, and works out a theory that in the evolution of society, the employing class has come to appropriate the surplus earnings of labor. This, with his consideration of society as an evolution, are the two most important and influential ideas of the book. The “Manifesto” was much more radical and heated than this later exposition of his ideas, but he believes in the inevitable assumption by the laboring class of the means of production. His theories are a part of almost all socialistic writings, and, with- out his radical and unnecessary features, the idea that society is an organism which should control what concerns all for the good of all is playing a prominent part in all present day social thought. Marx died in London, March 14, 1883. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS il MANIFESTO OF THE COMMUNIST PARTY By Kart Marx AND FRIEDRICH ENGELS A specter is haunting Europe—the specter of Communism. All the powers of old Europe have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this specter; Pope and Czar, Metternich and Guizot, French radicals and German police spies. Where is the party in opposition that has not been decried as com- munistic by its opponents in power? Where the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of Communism, against the more advanced opposition parties, as well as against its reactionary adver- saries ? Two things result from this fact. I. Communism is already acknowledged by all European powers to be in itself a power. II. It is high time that Communists should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Specter of Communism with a manifesto of the party itself. To this end the Communists of various nationalities have assembled in London, and sketched the following manifesto to be published in the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish languages. by BouRGEOIS AND PROLETARIANS The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles,/ Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild- “master and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, that each time ended either in revolutionary reconstitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contend- ing classes. In the earlier epochs of history we find almost everywhere a com- plicated arrangement of society into various orders, a manifold grada- 12 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS tion of social rank. In ancient Rome we have patricians, knights, plebeians, slaves; in the middle ages, feudal lords, vassals, guild- masters, journeymen, apprentices, serfs; in almost all of these classes, again, subordinate gradations. The modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones. Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeois, possesses, however, this dis- tinctive feature: it has simplified the class antagonisms. Society as a _whole is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other: Bourgeoisie and Proletariat. From the serfs of the middle ages sprang the chartered burghers of the earliest towns. From these burgesses the first elements of the bour- geoisie were developed. The discovery of America, the rounding of the Cape, opened up fresh ground for the rising bourgeoisie. The East Indian and Chinese markets, the colonization of America, trade with the colonies, the in- crease in the means of exchange and in commodities generally, gave to commerce, to navigation, to industry, an impulse never before known, and thereby, to the revolutionary element in the tottering feudal society, a rapid development. The feudal system of industry, under which industrial production was monopolized by close guilds, now no longer sufficed for the grow- ing wants of the new markets. The manufacturing system took its place. The guild masters were pushed on one side by the manufactur- ing middle class; division of labor between the different corporate guilds vanished in the face of division of labor in each single workshop. Meantime the markets kept ever growing, the demand ever rising. Even manufacture no longer sufficed. Thereupon steam and machinery revolutionized industrial production. The place of manufacture was taken by the giant, Modern Industry, the place of the industrial middle class, by industrial millionaires, the leaders of the whole industrial armies, the modern bourgeois. Modern industry has established the world’s market, for which the discovery of America paved the way. The market has given an im- -mense development to commerce, to navigation, to communication by land. This development has, in its turn, reacted on the extension of industry ; and in proportion as industry, commerce, navigation and rail- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 18 ways extended, in the same proportion the bourgeoisie developed, increased its capital, and pushed into the background every class handed down from the middle ages. We see, therefore, how the modern bourgeoisie is itself the product of a long course of development, of a series of revolutions in the modes of production and of exchange. Each step in the development of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political advance of that class. An oppressed class under the sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and self-governing association in the medizval commune, here independent urban repub- lic (as in Italy and Germany), there taxable “third estate’ of the monarchy (as in France), afterwards, in the period of manufacture proper, serving either the semi-feudal or the absolute monarchy as a counterpoise against the nobility, and, in fact, corner-stone of the great monarchies in general, the bourgeoisie has at last, since the establish- ment of Modern Industry and of the world’s market, conquered for itself, in the modern representative State, exclusive political sway. The executive of the modern State is but a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie. The bourgeoisie, historically, has played a most revolutionary part. The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his “natural supe- riors,” and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, callous “cash payment.” It has drowned the most heavenly ecstacies of religious fervor, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom—Free_ Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation. The bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honored and looked up to with reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science, into its paid wage laborers. The bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation to a mere money relation. The bourgeoisie has disclosed how it came to pass that the brutal 4 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS display of vigor in the middle ages, which Reactionists so much admire, found its fitting complement in the most slothful indolence. It has been the first to show what man’s activity can bring about. It has accom- plished wonders far surpassing Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts, and Gothic cathedrals ; it has conducted expeditions that put in the shade all former exoduses of nations and crusades. The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society. Conservation of the old modes of production in unaltered forms was, on the contrary, the first condition oi existence for all earlier industrial classes. Constant revolutionizing of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, ever- lasting uncertainty and agitation, distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away; all new- formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses his real conditions of life and his relations with his kind. The need of a constantly expanding market for its products chases the bourgeoisie over the whole surface of the globe. It must nestle every- where, settle everywhere, establish connections everywhere. The bourgeoisie has through its exploitation of the world’s market given a cosmopolitan character to production and consumption in every country. To the great chagrin of Reactionists, it has drawn from under the feet of industry the national ground on which it stood. All old- established national industries have been destroyed or are daily being destroyed. They are dislodged by new industries, whose introduction becomes a life and death question for all civilized nations, by industries that no longer work up indigenous raw material, but raw material drawn from the remotest zones, industries whose products are con- sumed, not only at home, but in every quarter of the globe. In place of the old wants, satisfied by the productions of the country, we find new wants, requiring for their satisfaction the products of distant lands and climes. In place of the old local and national seclusion and self-suff- ciency, we have intercourse in every direction, universal inter-depend- ence of nations. And as in material, so also in intellectual production. The intellectual creations of individual nations become common prop- erty. National one-sidedness and narrow-mindedness become more and SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 15 more impossible, and from the numerous national and local literatures, there arises a world literature. The bourgeoisie, by the rapid improvement of all instruments of production, by the immensely facilitated means of communication, draws all, even the most barbarian, nations into civilization. The cheap prices of its commodities are the heavy artillery with which it batters down all Chinese walls, with which it forces the barbarians’ intensely obstinate hatred of foreigners to capitulate. It compels all nations, on pain of extinction, to adopt the bourgeois mode of production; it compels them to introduce what it calls civilization into their midst, 7. e., to become bourgeois themselves. In one word, it creates a world after its own image. The bourgeoisie has subjected the country to the rule of the towns. It has created enormous cities, has greatly increased the urban popula- tion as compared with the rural, and has thus rescued a considerable part of the population from the idiocy of rural life. Just as it has made the country dependent on the towns, so has it made barbarian and semi- barbarian countries dependent on the civilized ones, nations of peasants on nations of bourgeois, the East on the West. The bourgeoisie keeps more and more doing away with the scat- tered state of the population, of the means of production, and of prop- erty. It has agglomerated population, centralized means of production, and has concentrated property in a few hands. The necessary conse- quence of this was political centralization. Independent, or but loosely connected provinces, with separate interests, laws, governments and sys- tems of taxation, became lumped together into one nation, with one gov- ernment, one code of laws, one national class interest, one frontier, and one customs tariff. The bourgeoisie, during its rule of scarce one hundred years, has created more massive and more colossal productive forces than have all preceding generations together. Subjection of Nature’s forces to man, machinery, application of chemistry to industry and agriculture, steam navigation, railways, electric telegraphs, clearing of whole continents for cultivation, canalization of rivers, whole populations conjured out of the ground—what earlier century had even a presentiment that such productive forces slumbered in the lap of social labor? We see then: the means of production and of exchange on whose foundation the bourgeoisie built itself up, were generated in feudal society. At a certain stage in the development of these means of pro- 16 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS duction and of exchange, the conditions under which feudal society pro- duced and exchanged, the feudal organization of agriculture and manufacturing industry, in one word, the feudal relations of property, became no longer compatible with the already developed productive forces ; they became so many fetters. They had to be burst asunder. Into their place stepped free competition, accompanied by a social and political constitution adapted to it, and by the economical and politi- cal sway of the bourgeois class. A similar movement is going on before our own eyes. Modern bourgeois society with its relations of production, of exchange, and of praperty, a society that has conjured up such gigantic means of produc- tion and of exchange, is like the sorcerer, who is no longer able to control the powers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells. For many a decade past the history of industry and commerce is but the history of the revolt of modern productive forces against modern conditions of production, against the property relations that are the conditions for the existence of the bourgeoisie and of its rule. It is enough to mention the commercial crises that by their periodical return put on its trial, each time more threateningly, the existence of the bour- geois society. In these crises a great part not only of the existing products, but also of the previously created productive forces, is peri- odically destroyed. In these crises there breaks out an epidemic that, in all earlier epochs, would have seemed an absurdity—the epidemic of overproduction. Society suddenly finds itself put back into a state of momentary barbarism; it appears as if a famine, a universal war of devastation had cut off the supply of every means of subsistence; industry and commerce seem to be destroyed; and why? because there is too much civilization, too much means of subsistence, too much industry, too much commerce. The productive forces at the disposal of society no longer tend to further the development of the conditions of bourgeois property ; on the contrary, they have become too powerful for these conditions, by which they are fettered, and so soon as they over- come these fetters, they bring disorder into the whole of bourgeois soci- ety, endanger the existence of bourgeois property. The conditions of bourgeois society are too narrow to comprise the wealth created by them. And how does the bourgeoisie get over these crises? On the one hand, by enforced destruction of a mass of productive forces; on the other, by the conquest of new markets, and by the more thorough exploitation of the old ones. That is to say, by paving the way for more SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 17 extensive and more destructive crises, and by diminishing the means whereby crises are prevented. The weapons with which the bourgeoisie felled feudalism to the ground are now turned against the bourgeoisie itself. But not only has the bourgeoisie forged the weapons that bring death to itself; it has also called into existence the men who are to wield those weapons—the modern working class—the proletarians. In proportion as the bourgeoisie, 7. e., capital, is developed, in the same proportion is the proletariat, the modern working class, developed ; a class of laborers who live only so long as they find work, and who find work only so long as their labor increases capital,—These laborers, who must sell themselves piecemeal, are a commodity. like every other article of commerce, and are consequently exposed to all the vicissitudes of competition, to all the fluctuations of the market. Owing to the extensive use of machinery and to division of labor, the work of the proletarians has lost all individual character, and, conse- quently, all charm for the workman. He becomes an appendage of the machine, and it is only the most simple, most monotonous, and most easily acquired knack, that is required of him. Hence, the cost of pro- duction of a workman is restricted almost entirely to the means of sub- sistence that he requires for his maintenance, and for the propagation of his race. But the price of a commodity, and therefore also of labor, is equal to its cost of production. In proportion, therefore, as the repul- siveness of the work increases, the wage decreases. Nay, more, in pro- portion as the use of machinery and division of labor increases, in the same proportion the burden of toil also increases, whether by prolonga- tion of the working hours, by increase of the work exacted in a given time, or by increased speed of the machinery, etc. Modern industry has converted the little workshop of the patri- archal master into the great factory of the industrial capitalist. Masses of laborers, crowded into the factory, are organized like soldiers. As privates of the industrial army they are placed under the command of a perfect hierarchy of officers and sergeants. Not only are they slaves of the bourgeois class, and of the bourgeois State, they are daily and hourly enslaved by the machine, by the overlooker, and, above all, by the indi- vidual bourgeois manufacturer himself. The more openly this despot- ism proclaims gain to be its end and aim, the more petty, the more hateful and the more embittering it is. The less skill and exertion of strength is implied in manual labor, » 18 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS in other words, the more modern industry becomes developed, the more is the labor of men superseded by that of women. Differences of age and sex have no longer any distinctive social validity for the working class. All are instruments of labor, more or less expensive to use, according to age and sex. No sooner is the exploitation of the laborer by the manufacturer so far at an end that he receives his wages in cash, than he is set upon by the other portions of the bourgeoisie, the landlord, the shopkeeper, the pawnbroker, etc. The lower strata of the middle class—the small tradespeople, shop- keepers, and retired tradesmen generally, the handicraftsmen and peas- ants—all these sink gradually into the proletariat, partly because their diminutive capital does not suffice for the scale on which modern industry is carried on, and is swamped in the competition with the large capitalists, partly because their specialized skill is rendered worthless by new methods of production. Thus the proletariat is recruited from all classes of the population. The proletariat goes through various stages of development. With its birth begins its struggle with the bourgeoisie. At first the contest is carried on by individual laborers, then by the workpeople of a factory, then by the operatives of one trade, in one locality, against the individual bourgeois who directly exploits them. They direct their attacks not against the bourgeois conditions of production, but against the instru- ments of production themselves; they destroy imported wares that com- pete with their labor, they smash to pieces machinery, they set factories ablaze, they seek to restore by force the vanished status of the workman of the middle ages. At this stage the laborers still form an incoherent mass scattered over the whole country, and broken up by their mutual competition. If anywhere they unite to form more compact bodies, this is not yet the consequence of their own active union, but of the union of the bour- geoisie, which class, in order to attain its own political ends, is compelled to set the whole proletariat in motion, and is moreover yet, for a time, able to do so. At this stage, therefore, the proletarians do not fight their enemies, but the enemies of their enemies, the remnants of absolute monarchy, the land owners, the non-industrial bourgeois, the petty bour- geoisie. Thus the whole historical movement is concentrated in the hands of the bourgeoisie; every victory so obtained is a victory for the bourgeoisie. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 19 But with the development of industry the proletariat not only increases in number; it becomes concentrated in greater masses, its strength grows and it feels that strength more. The various interests and conditions of life within the ranks of the proletariat are more and more equalized, in proportion as machinery obliterates all distinctions of labor, and nearly everywhere reduces wages to the same low level. The growing competition among the bourgeois, and the resulting commer- cial crises, make the wages of the workers ever more fluctuating. The unceasing improvement of machinery, ever more rapidly developing, makes their livelihood more and more precarious; the collisions between individual workmen and individual bourgeois take more and more the character of collisions between two classes. Thereupon the workers begin to form combinations (Trades’ Unions) against the bourgeois; they club together in order to keep up the rate of wages; they found permanent associations in order to make provision beforehand for these occasional revolts. Here and there the contest breaks out into riots. Now and then the workers are victorious, but only for a time. The real fruit of their battles lies not in the immediate result, but in the ever improved means of communication that are created in modern industry and that place the workers of different localities in contact with one another. It was just this contact that was needed to centralize the numerous local struggles, all of the same character, into one national struggle between classes. But every class struggle is a political struggle. And that union, to attain which the burghers of the middle ages, with their miserable highways, required centuries, the modern proletarians, thanks to railways, achieve in a few years. This organization of the proletarians into a class, and consequently into a political party, is continually being upset again by the competition between the workers themselves. But it ever rises up again; stronger, firmer, mightier. It compels legislative recognition of particular inter- ests of the workers, by taking advantage of the divisions among the bourgeoisie itself. Thus the ten-hours’ bill in England was carried. - Altogether, collisions between the classes of the old society further, in many ways, the course of development of the proletariat. The bour- goeoisie finds itself involved in a constant battle. At first with the aris- tocracy; later on, with those portions of the bourgeoisie itself whose interests have become antagonistic to the progress of industry; at all times with the bourgeoisie of foreign countries. In all these countries it sees itself compelled to appeal to the proletariat, to ask for its help, and 20 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS thus to drag it into the political arena. The bourgeoisie itself, therefore, supplies the proletariat with weapons for fighting the bourgeoisie. Further, as we have already seen, entire sections of the ruling classes are, by the advance of industry, precipitated into the proletariat, or are at least threatened in their conditions of existence. These also supply the proletariat with fresh elements of enlightenment and progress. Finally, in times when the class struggle nears the decisive hour, the process of dissolution going on within the ruling class, in fact within the whole range of old society, assumes such a violent, glaring character, that a small section of the ruling class cuts itself adrift and joins the revolutionary class, the class that holds the future in its hands. Just as, therefore, at an earlier period, a section of the nobility went over to the bourgeoisie, so now a portion of the bourgeoisie goes over to _ the proletariat, and in particular, a portion of the bourgeois ideologists, who have raised themselves to the level of comprehending theoretically the historical movement as a whole. Of all the classes that stand face to face with the bourgeoisie to-day, the proletariat alone is a really revolutionary class. The other classes decay and finally disappear in the face of modern industry; the proletariat is its special and essential product. The lower middle class, the small manufacturer, the shopkeeper, the artisan, the peasant, all these fight against the bourgeoisie to save from extinction their existence as fractions of the middle class. They are therefore not revolutionary, but conservative. Nay, more, they are reactionary, for they try to roll back the wheel of history. If by chance they are revolutionary, they are so only in view of their impending transfer into the proletariat; they thus defend not their present, but their future interests, they desert their own standpoint to place them- selves at that of the proletariat. The “dangerous class,’’ the social scum, that passively rotting class thrown off by the lowest layers of old society, may here and there be swept into the movement by a proletarian revolution; its conditions of life, however, prepare it far more for the part of a bribed tool of reac- tionary intrigue. In the conditions of the proletariat, those of old society at large are already virtually swamped. The proletarian is without property; his relation to his wife and children has no longer anything in common with the bourgeois family relations; modern industrial labor, modern SOCIAL MOVEMENTS al subjection to capital, the same in England as in France, in America as in Germany, has stripped him of every trace of national character. Law, morality, religion are to him so many bourgeois prejudices, behind which lurk in ambush just as many bourgeois interests. All the preceding classes that got the upper hand sought to fortify their already acquired status by subjecting society at large to their con- ditions of appropriation. The proletarians cannot become masters of the productive forces of society, except by abolishing their own pre- vious mode of appropriation, and thereby also every other previous mode of appropriation. They have nothing of their own to secure and to fortify ; their mission is to destroy all previous securities for, and insurances of, individual property. All previous historical movements were movements of minorities, or in the interest of minorities. The proletarian movement is the self- conscious, independent movement of the immense majority, in the inter- est of the immense majority. The proletariat, the lowest stratum of our present society, cannot stir, cannot raise itself up, without the whole super-incumbent strata of official society being sprung into the air. Though not in substance, yet in form, the struggle of the proletariat with the bourgeoisie is at first a national struggle. The proletariat of each country must, of course, first of all settle matters with its own bourgeoisie. In depicting the most general phases of the development of the proletariat, we traced the more or less veiled civil war, raging within existing society, up to the point where that war breaks out into open revolution, and where the violent overthrow of the bourgeoisie lays the foundation for the sway of the proletariat. Hitherto every form of society has been based, as we have already seen, on the antagonism of oppressing and oppressed classes. But in order to oppress a class certain conditions must be assured to it, under which it can at least continue its slavish existence. The serf, in the period of serfdom, raised himself to membership in the Commune, just as the petty bourgeois, under the yoke of feudal absolutism, managed to develop into a bourgeois. The modern laborer, on the contrary, instead of rising with the progress of industry, sinks deeper and deeper below the conditions of existence of his own class. He becomes a pauper, and pauperism develops more rapidly than population and wealth. And here it becomes evident that the bourgeoisie is unfit any longer to be the ruling class in society and to impose its conditions of 22 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS existence upon society as an overriding law. It is unfit to rule because it is incompetent to assure an existence to its slave within his slavery, because it cannot help letting him sink into such a state that it has to feed him instead of being fed by him. Society can no longer live under this bourgeoisie; in other words, its existence is no longer compatible with society. The essential condition for the existence, and for the sway of the bourgeois class, is the formation and augmentation of capital; the con- dition for capital is wage-labor. Wage-labor rests exclusively on com- petition between the laborers. The advance of industry, whose involuntary promoter is the bourgeoisie, replaces the isolation of the laborers, due to competition, by their revolutionary combination, due to association. The development of modern industry, therefore, cuts from under its feet the very foundation on which the bourgeoisie produces and appropriates products. What the bourgeoisie therefore produces, above all, are its own grave diggers. Its fall and the victory of the pro- letariat are equally inevitable. IT. PROLETARIANS AND COMMUNISTS In what relation do the Communists stand to the proletarians as a whole? The Communists do not form a separate party opposed to other working class parties. They have no interests separate and apart from those of the pro- letariat as a whole. | They do not set up any sectarian principles of their own by which to shape and mould the proletarian movement. The Communists are distinguished from the other working class parties by this only: 1. In the national struggles of the proletarians of the different countries, they point out and bring to the front the com- mon interests of the entire proletariat, independently of all nationality. 2. In the various stages of development which the struggle of the work- ing class against the bourgeoisie has to pass through, they always and everywhere represent the interests of the movement as a whole. The Communists, therefore, are on the one hand, practically the most advanced and resolute section of the working class parties of SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 23 every country, that section which pushes forward all others; on the other hand, theoretically they have over the great mass of the prole- tariat the advantage of clearly understanding the line of march, the conditions, and the ultimate general results of the proletarian move- ment. The immediate aim of the Communists is the same as that of all the other proletarian parties: formation of the proletariat into a class, over- throw of the bourgeois supremacy, conquest of political power by the proletariat. The theoretical conclusions of the Communists are in no way based on ideas or principles that have been invented, or discovered, by this or that would-be universal reformer. They merely express, in general terms, actual relations springing from an existing class struggle, from a historical movement going on under our very eyes. The abolition of existing property relations is not at all a distinctive feature of Communism. All property relations in the past have continually been subject to historical change, consequent upon the change in historical conditions. The French revolution, for example, abolished feudal property in favor of bourgeois property. The distinguishing feature of Communism is not the abolition of property generally, but the abolition of bourgeois property. But mod- ern bourgeois private property is the final and most complete expression of the system of producing and appropriating products, that is, based on class antagonisms, on the exploitation of the many by the few. In this sense the theory. of-the-Communists may be summed up in the single sentence: Abolition of private property. We Communists have-been reproached with the desire of abolish- ing the right of personally acquiring property as the fruit of a man’s own labor, which property is alleged to be the groundwork of all per- sonal freedom, activity and independence. Hard-won, self-acquired, self-earned property! Do you mean the property of the petty artisan and of the small peasant, a form of prop- erty that preceded the bourgeois form? There is no need to abolish that ; the development of industry has to a great extent already destroyed it, and is still destroying it daily. Or do you mean modern bourgeois private property ? But does wage labor create any property for the laborer? Nota bit. It creates capital, 7. ¢., that kind of property which exploits wage-labor, 24 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS and which cannot increase except on condition of begetting a new supply of wage-labor for fresh exploitation. Property in its present form is based on the antagonism of capital and wage-labor. Let us examine both sides of this antagonism. To be a capitalist, is to have not only a purely personal, but a social status in production. Capital is a collective product, and only by the united action of many members, nay, in the last resort, only by the united action of all members of society, can it be set in motion. Capital is therefore not a personal, it is a social power. When, therefore, capital is converted into common property, into the property of all members of society, personal property is not thereby transformed into social property. It is only the social character of the property that is changed. It loses its class character. Let us now take wage-labor. The average price of wage-labor is the minimum wage, 1. e., that quantum of the means of subsistence, which is absolutely requisite to keep the laborer in bare existence as a laborer. What, therefore, the wage-laborer appropriates by means of his labor, merely suffices to pro- long and reproduce a bare existence. We by no means intend to abolish this personal appropriation of the products of labor, an appropriation that is made for the maintenance and reproduction of human life, and that leaves no surplus wherewith to command the labor of others. All that we want to do away with is the miserable character of this appro- priation, under which the laborer lives merely to increase capital, and is allowed to live only in so far as the interest of the ruling class requires it. In bourgeois society living labor is but a means to increase accumu- lated labor. In Communist society accumulated labor is but a means to widen, to enrich, to promote the existence of the laborer. In bourgeois society, therefore, the past dominates the present; in Communist society the present dominates the past. In bourgeois society capital is independent and has individuality, while the living person is dependent and has no individuality. And the abolition of this state of things is called by the bourgeois: abolition of individuality and freedom! And rightly so. The abolition of bourgeois individuality, bourgeois independence, and bourgeois free- dom is undoubtedly aimed at. By freedom is meant, under the present bourgeois conditions of pro- duction, free trade, free selling and buying. But if selling and buying disappears, free selling and buying dis- ite ee SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 25 appears also. This talk about free selling and buying, and all the other “brave words” of our bourgeoisie about freedom in general, have a meaning, if any, only in contrast with restricted selling and buying, with the fettered traders of the middle ages, but have no meaning when opposed to the Communistic abolition of buying and selling, of the bourgeois conditions of production, and of the bourgeoisie itself. _ You are horrified at our intending to do away with private prop- erty. But in your existing society private property is already done away with for nine-tenths of the population; its existence for the few is solely due to its non-existence in the hands of those nine-tenths. You reproach us, therefore, with intending to do away with a form of prop- erty, the necessary condition for whose existence is the non-existence of any property for the immense majority of society. In one word, you reproach us with intending to do away with your property. Precisely so: that is just what we intend. From the moment when labor can no longer be converted into capi- tal, money, or rent, into a social power capable of being monopolized, i. e., from the moment when individual property can no longer be trans- formed into bourgeois property, into capital, from that moment, you say, individuality vanishes ! You must therefore confess, that by “individual” you mean no other person than the bourgeois, than the middle class owner of prop- erty. This person must, indeed, be swept out of the way, and made impossible. Communism deprives no man of the power to appropriate the prod- ucts of society : all that it does is to deprive him of the power to subju- gate the labor of others by means of such appropriation. _ It has been objected, that upon the abolition of private property all work will cease and universal laziness will overtake us. According to this, bourgeois society ought long ago to have gone to the dogs through sheer idleness; for those of its members who work, acquire nothing, and those who acquire anything, do not work. The whole of this objection is but another expression of tautology, that there can no longer be any wage-labor when there is no longer any capital. All objections against the Communistic mode of producing and appropriating material products have, in the same way, been urged against the Communistic modes of producing and appropriating intel- lectual products. Just as, to the bourgeois, the disappearance of class property is the disappearance of production itself, so the disappearance 26 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS of class culture is to him identical with the disappearance of all culture. That culture, the loss of which he laments, is, for the enormous majority, a mere training to act as a machine. But don’t wrangle with us so long as you apply to our intended abolition of bourgeois property, the standard of your bourgeois notions of freedom, culture, law, etc. Your very ideas are but the outgrowth of the conditions of your bourgeois production and bourgeois property, just as your jurisprudence is but the will of your class made into a law for all, a will, whose essential character and direction are determined by the economical conditions of existence of your class. The selfish misconception that induces you to transform into eternal laws of nature and of reason, the social forms springing from your present mode of production and form of property—historical relations that rise and disappear in the progress of production—the misconcep- tion you share with every ruling class that has preceded you. What you see clearly in the case of ancient property, what you admit in the case of feudal property, you are of course forbidden to admit in the case of your own bourgeois form of property. Abolition of the family! Even the most radical flare up at this infamous proposal of the Communists. On what foundation is the present family, the bourgeois family, based? On capital, on private gain. In its completely developed form this family exists only among the bourgeoisie. But this state of things finds its complement in the practical absence of the family among the proletarians, and in public prostitution. The bourgeois family will vanish as a matter of course when its complement vanishes, and both will vanish with the vanishing of capital. Do you charge us with wanting to stop the exploitation of children by their parents? To this crime we plead guilty. : But, you will say, we destroy the most hallowed of relations, when we replace home education by social. And your education! Is not that also social, and determined by the social conditions under which you educate, by the intervention, direct or indirect, of society by means of schools, etc.? The Communists have not invented the intervention of society in education ; but they do seek to alter the character of that intervention, and to rescue education from the influence of the ruling class. | The bourgeois clap-trap about the family and education, about the hallowed co-relation of parent and child become all the more disgusting, “ie ae SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 27 as, by the action of modern industry, all family ties among the prole- tarians are torn asunder, and their children transformed into simple articles of commerce and instruments of labor. But you Communists would introduce community of women, screams the whole bourgeoisie in chorus. The bourgeois sees in his wife a mere instrument of production. He hears that the instruments of production are to be exploited in com- mon, and naturally can come to no other conclusion than that the lot of being common to all will likewise fall to the women. He has not even a suspicion that the real point aimed at is to do away with the status of women as mere instruments of production. For the rest nothing is more ridiculous than the virtuous indigna- tion of our bourgeois at the community of women which, they pretend, is to be openly and officially established by the Communists. The Com- munists have no need to introduce community of women; it has existed almost from time immemorial. Our bourgeois, not content with having the wives and daughters of their proletarians at their disposal, not to speak of common prostitutes, take the greatest pleasure in seducing each other’s wives. Bourgeois marriage is in reality a system of wives in common, and thus, at the most, what the Communists might possibly be reproached with, is that they desire to introduce, in substitution for a hypocritically concealed, an openly legalized community of women. For the rest it is self-evident that the abolition of the present system of production must bring with it the abolition of the community of women springing from that system, 7. e., of prostitution, both public and private. : _ The Communists are further reproached with desiring to abolish countries and nationality. The workingmen have no country. We cannot take from them what they have not got. Since the proletariat must first of all acquire political supremacy, must rise to be the leading class of the nation, must constitute itself the nation, it is, so far, itself national, though not in the bourgeois sense of the word. National differences and antagonisms between peoples are daily more and more vanishing, owing to the development of the bourgeoisie, to freedom of commerce, to the world’s market, to uniformity in the mode of production and in the conditions of life corresponding thereto. The supremacy of the proletariat will cause them to vanish still faster. United action, of the leading civilized countries at least, is one of the first conditions for the emancipation of the proletariat. 28 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS In proportion as the exploitation of one individual by another is put an end to, the exploitation of one nation by another will also be put an end to. In proportion as the antagonism between classes within the nation vanishes, the hostility of one nation to another will come to an end. The charges against Communism made from a religious, a philo- sophical, and, generally, from an ideological standpoint are not deserv- ing of serious examination. Does it require deep intuition to comprehend that man’s ideas, views, and conceptions, in one word, man’s consciousness, changes with every change in the conditions of his material existence, in his social relations and in his social life? What else does the history of ideas prove, than that intellectual production changes its character in proportion as material production is changed? The ruling ideas of each age have ever been the ideas of its ruling class. When people speak of ideas that revolutionize society they do but express the fact that within the old society the elements of a new one have been created, and that the dissolution of the old ideas keeps even pace with the dissolution of the old conditions of existence. When the ancient world was in its last throes the ancient religions were overcome by Christianity. When Christian ideas succumbed in the eighteenth century to rationalist ideas, feudal society fought its death battle with the then revolutionary bourgeoisie. -The ideas of religious liberty and freedom of conscience merely gave expression to the sway of free competition within the domain of knowledge. “Undoubtedly,” it will be said, “religious, moral, philosophical and juridical ideas have been modified in the course of historical develop- ment. But religion, morality, philosophy, political science, and law, constantly survived this change.” “There are besides eternal truths, such as Freedom, Justice, etc., that are common to all states of society. But Communism abolishes eternal truths, it abolishes all religion and all morality, instead of consti- tuting them on a new basis; it therefore acts in contradiction to all past historical experience.” What does this accusation reduce itself to? The history of all past society has consisted in the development of class antagonisms, antagon- isms that assumed different forms at different epochs. But whatever form they may have taken, one fact is common to all SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 29 past ages, viz., the exploitation of one part of society by the other. No wonder, then, that the social consciousness of past ages, despite all the multiplicity and variety it displays, moves within certain common forms, or general ideas, which cannot completely vanish except with the total disappearance of class antagonisms. The Communist revolution is the most radical rupture with tra- ditional property relations ; no wonder that its development involves the most radical rupture with traditional ideas. But let us have done with the bourgeois objections to Communism. We have seen above that the first step in the revolution by the work- ing class is to raise the proletariat to the position of the ruling class; to win the battle of democracy. The proletariat will use its political supremacy to wrest, by degrees, all capital from the bourgeoisie; to centralize all instruments of produc- tion in the hands of the State, 7. e., of the proletariat organized as the ruling class; and to increase the total of productive forces as rapidly as possible. Of course, in the beginning this cannot be effected except by means of despotic inroads on the rights of property and on the conditions of bourgeois production; by means of measures, therefore, which appear economically insufficient and untenable, but which, in the course of the movement, outstrip themselves, necessitate further inroads upon the old social order and are unavoidable as a means of entirely revolutionizing the mode of production. These measures will, of course, be different in different countries. Nevertheless in the most advanced countries the following will be pretty generally applicable: 1. Abolition of property in land and application of all rents of land to public purposes. 2. A heavy progressive or graduated income tax. 3. Abolition of all right of inheritance. 4. Confiscation of the property of all emigrants and rebels. 8. Centralization of credit in the hands of the State, by means of a national bank with State capital and an exclusive monopoly. 6. Centralization of the means of communication and transport in the hands of. the State. 7. Extension of factories and instruments of production owned by the State; the bringing into cultivation of waste lands, and the improve- ment of the soil generally in accordance with a common plan. 30 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 8. Equal liability of all to labor. Establishment of industrial armies, especially for agriculture. | 9g. Combination of agriculture with manufacturing industries; gradual abolition of the distinction between town and country, by a more equable distribution of the population over the country. 10. Free educaton for all children in public schools. Abolition of children’s factory labor in its present form. Combination of education with industrial production, etc., etc. When, in the course of development, class distinctions have dis- appeared and all production has been concentrated in the hands of a vast association of the whole nation, the public power will lose its politi- cal character. Political power, properly so called, is merely the organ- ized power of one class for oppressing another. If the proletariat during its contest with the bourgeoisie is compelled, by the force of circum- stances, to organize itself as a class, if, by means of a revolution, it makes itself the ruling class, and, as such, sweeps away by force the old conditions of production, then it will, along with these conditions, have swept away the conditions for the existence of class antagonisms, and of classes generally, and will thereby have abolished its own supremacy as a class. | In place of the old bourgeois society with its classes and class antagonisms we shall have an association in which the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all. 31 FRIEDRICH ENGELS FRIEDRICH ENGzLS was born at Barmen, Germany, 1820. He was a lifelong friend of Karl Marx and with him is one of the founders of German socialism. Since 1842 he lived mostly in England. He died in 1896. SCIENTIFIC SOCIALISM The new German philosophy culminated in the Hegelian system. In this system—and herein is its great merit—for the first time the whole world, natural, historical, intellectual, is represented as a process, 1. €., aS in constant motion, change, transformation, development; and the attempt is made to trace out the internal connection that makes a continuous whole of all this movement. and development. From this point of view the history of mankind no longer appeared as a wild whirl of senseless deeds of violence, all equally condemnable at the judgment seat of mature philosophic reason, and which are best for- gotten as quickly as possible; but as the process of evolution of man himself. It was now the task of the intellect to follow the gradual march of this process through all its devious ways, and to trace out the inner law running through all its apparently accidental phenomena. That the Hegelian system did not solve the problem it propounded is here immaterial. Its epoch-making merit was that it propounded the problem. This problem is one that no single individual will ever be able to solve. Although Hegel was—with Saint Simon—the most en- cyclopedic mind of his time, yet he was limited, first, by the necessarily limited extent of his own knowledge, and, second, by the limited extent and depth of the knowledge and conceptions of his age. To these limits a third must be added. Hegel was an idealist. To him the thoughts within his brain were not the more or less abstract pictures of actual things and processes, but, conversely, things and their evolution were only the realised pictures of the “Idea,” existing somewhere from eternity before the world was. This way of thinking turned everything 32 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS upside down, and completely reversed the actual connection of things in the world. Correctly and ingeniously as many individual groups of facts were grasped by Hegel, yet, for the reasons just given, there is much that is botched, artificial, laboured, in a word, wrong in point of detail. The Hegelian system, in itself, was a colossal miscarriage— but it was also the last of its kind. It was suffering, in fact, from an internal and incurable contradiction. Upon the one hand, its essential proposition was the conception that human history is a process of evolu- tion, which, by its very nature, cannot find its intellectual final term in the discovery of any so-called absolute truth. But, on the other hand, it laid claim to being the very essence of this absolute truth. A system of natural and historical knowledge, embracing everything, and final for all time, is a contradiction to the fundamental law of dialectic reasoning. This law, indeed, by no means excludes, but, on the contrary, includes the idea that the systematic knowledge of the external universe can make giant strides from age to age. The perception of the fundamental contradiction in German ideal- ism led necessarily back to materialism, but nota bene, not to the simply metaphysical, exclusively mechanical materialism of the eighteenth cen- tury. Old materialism looked upon all previous history as a crude heap of irrationality and violence ; modern materialism sees in it the process of evolution of humanity, and aims at discovering the laws thereof. With the French of the eighteenth century, and even with Hegel, the con- ception obtained of Nature as a whole, moving in narrow circles, and forever immutable, with its eternal celestial bodies, as Newton, and unalterable organic species, as Linnzus taught. Modern materialism embraces the more recent discoveries of natural science, according to which Nature also has its history in time, the celestial bodies, like the organic species that, under favourable conditions, people them, being born and perishing. And even if Nature, as a whole, must still be said to move in recurrent cycles, these cycles assume infinitely larger dimen- sions. In both aspects, modern materialism is essentially dialectic, and no longer requires the assistance of that sort of philosophy which, queen- like, pretended to rule the remaining mob of sciences. As soon as each special science is bound to make clear its position in the great total- ity of things and of our knowledge of things, a special science dealing with this totality is superfluous or unnecessary. That which still sur- vives of all earlier philosophy is the science of thought and its laws— formal logic and dialectics. Everything else is subsumed in the posi- tive science of Nature and history. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 33 Whilst, however, the revolution in the conception of Nature could only be made in proportion to the corresponding positive materials fur- nished by research, already much earlier certain historical facts had occurred which led to a decisive change in the conception of history. In 1831, the first working-class rising took place in Lyons; between 1838 and 1842, the first national working-class movement, that of the English Chartists, reached its height. The class struggle between pro- letariat and bourgeoisie came to the front in the history of the most advanced countries in Europe, in proportion to the development, upon the one hand, of modern industry, upon the other, of the newly- acquired political supremacy of the bourgeoisie. Facts more and more strenuously gave the lie to the teachings of bourgeois economy as to the identity of the interests of capital and labour, as to the universal harmony and universal prosperity that would be the consequence of un- bridled competition. All these things could no longer be ignored, any more than the French and English Socialism, which was their theoret- ical, though very imperfect, expression. But the old idealist conception of history, which was not yet dislodged, knew nothing of class struggles based upon economic interests, knew nothing of economic interests; pro- duction and all economic relations appeared in it only as incidental, subordinate elements in the “history of civilisation.” The new. facts made imperative a new examination of all past his- tory. Then it was seen that all past history, with the exception of its primitive stages, was the history of class struggles; that these warring classes of society are always the products of the modes of production and of exchange—in a word, of the economic conditions of their time; that the economic structure of society always furnishes the real basis, starting from which we can alone work out the ultimate explanation of the whole superstructure of juridical and political institutions, as well as of the religious, philosophical, and other ideas of a given historical period. Hegel had freed history from metaphysics—he had made it dia- lectic; but his conception of history was essentially idealistic. But now idealism was driven from its last refuge, the philosophy of history ; now a materialistic treatment of history was propounded, and a method found of explaining man’s “knowing” by his “being,” instead of, as heretofore, his “being” by his “knowing.” From that time forward Socialism was no longer an accidental dis- covery of this or that ingenious brain, but the necessary outcome of the _struggle between two historically developed classes—the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. Its task was no longer to manufacture a system of Sie. 34 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS society as perfect as possible, but to examine the historico-economic succession of events from which these classes and their antagonism had of necessity sprung, and to discover in the economic conditions thus cre- ated the means of ending the conflict. But the Socialism of earlier days was incompatible with this materialistic conception as the con- ception of Nature of the French materialists was with dialectics and modern natural science. The Socialism of earlier days certainly crit- icised the existing capitalistic mode of production and its consequences. But it could not expiain them, and therefore could not get the mastery of them. It could only simply reject them as bad. The more strongly this earlier Socialism denounced the exploitation of the working-class, inevitable under Capitalism, the less able was it clearly to show in what this exploitation consisted and how it arose. But for this it was neces- sary—(1) to present the capitalistic method of production in its his-_ torical connection and its inevitableness during a particular historical period, and therefore, also, to present its inevitable downfall; and (2) to lay bare its essential character, which was still a secret. This was done by the discovery of surplus-value. It was shown that the appro- priation of unpaid labour is the basis of the capitalist mode of produc- tion and of the exploitation of the worker that occurs under it; that even if the capitalist buys the labour-power of his labourer at its full value as a commodity on the market, he yet extracts more value from it than he paid for; and that in the ultimate analysis this surplus-value forms those sums of value from which are heaped up the constantly increasing masses of capital in the hands of the possessing classes. The genesis of capitalist production and the production of capital were both explained. These two great discoveries, the materialistic conception of history and the revelation of the secret of capitalistic production through sur- plus-value, we owe to Marx. With these discoveries Socialism became a science. The next thing was to work out all its details and relations. The materialist conception of history starts from the proposition that the production of the means to support human life and, next to pro- duction, the exchange of things produced, is the basis of all social structure; that in every society that has appeared in history, the manner in which wealth is distributed and society divided into classes or orders, is dependent upon what is produced, how it is produced, and how the products are exchanged. From this point of view the final causes of all social changes and political revolutions are to be sought, not in men’s brains, not in man’s better insight into eternal truth and justice, but in SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 35 changes in the modes of production and exchange. They are to be sought, not in the philosophy, but in the economics of each particular epoch. The growing perception that existing social institutions are unreasonable and unjust, that reason has become unreason, and right wrong, is only proof that in the modes of production and exchange changes have silently taken place, with which the social order, adapted to earlier economic conditions, is no longer in keeping. From this it also follows that the means of getting rid of the incongruities that have been brought to light, must also be present, in a more or less developed condition, within the changed modes of production themselves. These means are not to be invented by deduction from fundamental principles, but are to be discovered in the stubborn facts of the existing system of production. What is, then, the position of modern Socialism in this connexion? The present structure of society—this is now pretty generally con- ceded—is the creation of the ruling class of to-day, of the bourgeoisie. The mode of production peculiar to the bourgeoisie, known, since Marx, as the capitalist mode of production, was incompatible with the feudal system, with the privileges it conferred upon individuals, entire social ranks and local corporations, as well as with the hereditary ties of sub- ordination which constituted the framework of its social organisation. The bourgeoisie broke up the feudal system and built upon its ruins the capitalist order of society, the kingdom of free competition, of personal liberty, of the equality, before the law, of all commodity owners, of all the rest of the capitalist blessings. Thenceforward the capitalist mode of production could develop in freedom. Since steam, machinery, and the making of machines by machinery transformed the older manufac- ture into modern industry, the productive forces evolved under the guidance of the bourgeoisie developed with a rapidity and in a degree unheard of before. But just as the older manufacture, in its time, and handicraft, becoming more developed under its influence, had come into collision with the feudal trammels of the guilds, so now modern industry, in its more complete development, comes into collision with the bounds within which the capitalistic mode of production holds it confined. The new productive forces have already outgrown the capital- istic mode of using them. And this conflict between productive forces and modes of production is not a conflict engendered in the mind of man, like that between original sin and divine justice. It exists, in fact, objectively, outside us, independently of the will and actions even of the men that have brought it on. Modern Socialism is nothing but the 36 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS reflex, in thought, of this conflict in fact; its ideal reflection in the minds, first, of the class directly suffering under it, the working-class. Now, in what does this conflict consist ? Before capitalistic production, 7. e., in the Middle Ages, the system of petty industry obtained generally, based upon the private property of the labourers in their means of production; in the country, the agriculture of the small peasant, freeman or serf; in the towns, the handicrafts organized in guilds. The instruments of labour—land,. agricultural implements, the workshop, the tool—were the instruments of labour of single individuals, adapted for the use of one worker, and, therefore, of necessity, small, dwarfish, circumscribed. But, for this very reason they belonged, as a rule, to the producer himself. To con- centrate these scattered, limited means of production, to enlarge them, to turn them into the powerful levers of production of the present day— this was precisely the historic réle of capitalist production and of its upholder, the bourgeoisie. In the fourth section of “Capital” Marx has explained in detail, how since the fifteenth century this has been historically worked out through the three phases of simple co-operation, manufacture and modern industry. But the bourgeoisie, as is also shown there, could not transform these puny means of production into mighty productive forces, without transforming them, at the same time, from means of production of the individual into social means of pro- duction only workable by a collectivity of men. The spinning-wheel, the handloom, the blacksmith’s hammer, were replaced by the spinning- machine, the power-loom, the steam-hammer ; the individual workshop, by the factory implying the co-operation of hundreds and thousands of workmen. In like manner, production itself changed from a series of individual into a series of social acts, and the products from indi- vidual to socia! products. The yarn, the cloth, the metal articles that now came out of the factory were the joint product of many workers, through whose hands they had successively to pass before they were ready. No one person could say of them: “I made that; this is my product.” | But where, in a given society, the fundamental form of production is that spontaneous division of labour which creeps in gradually and not upon any preconceived plan, there the products take on the form of commodities, whose mutual exchange, buying and selling, enable the individual producers to satisfy their manifold wants. And this was the case in the Middle Ages. The peasant, e. g., sold to the artisan agricul- tural products and bought from him the products of handicraft. Into SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 37 this society of individual producers, of commodity-producers, the new mode of production thrust itself. In the midst of the old division of labour, grown up spontaneously and upon no definite’ plan, which had governed the whole of society, now arose division of labour upon a definite plan, as organised in the factory; side by side with individual production appeared social production. The products of both were sold in the same market, and, therefore, at prices at least approximately equal. But organisation upon a definite plan was stronger than spon- taneous division of labour. The factories working with the combined social forces of a collectivity of individuals produced their commodities far more cheaply than the individual small producers. Individual pro- duction succumbed in one department after another. Socialised pro- duction revolutionised all the old methods of production. But its revolutionary character was, at the same time, so little recognised, that it was, on the contrary, introduced as a means of increasing and developing the production of commodities. When it arose, it found ready-made, and made liberal use of, certain machinery for the pro- duction and exchange of commodities; merchants’ capital, handicraft, wage-labour. Socialised production thus introducing itself as a new form of the production of commodities, it was a matter of course that under it the old forms of appropriation remained in full swing, and were applied to its products as well. In the medizval stage of evolution of the production of commod- ities, the question as to the owner of the product of labour could not arise. The individual producer, as a rule, had, from raw material be- longing to himself, and generally his own handiwork, produced it with his own tools, by the labour of his own hands or of his family. There was no need for him to appropriate the new product. It belonged wholly to him, as a matter of course. His property in the product was, therefore, based upon his own labour. Even where external help was used, this was, as a rule, of little importance, and very generally was compensated by something other than wages. The apprentices and journeymen of the guilds worked less for board and wages than for education, in order that they might become master craftsmen them- selves. Then came the concentration of the means of production and of the producers in large workshops and manufactories, their transformation into actual socialised means of production and socialised producers. But the socialised producers and means of production and their prod- ucts were still treated, after this change, just as they had been before, 38 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 1. é., aS the means of production and the products of individuais. Hith- erto, the owner of the instruments of labour had himself appropriated the product, because, as a rule, it was his own product and the assistance of others was the exception. Now the owner of the instruments of labour always appropriated to himself the product, although it was no longer his product, but exclusively the product of the labour. of others. Thus, the products now produced socially were not appropriated by those who had actually set in motion the means of production and actually produced the commodities, but by the capitalists. The means of production, and production itself, had become in essence socialised. But they were subjected to a form of appropriation which presupposes the private production of individuals, under which, therefore, every one owns his own product and brings it to market. The mode of production is subjected to this form of appropriation, although it abolishes the conditions upon which the latter rests. This contradiction, which gives to the new mode of production its capitalistic character, contains the germ of the whole of the social antagonisms of to-day. The greater the mastery obtained by the new mode of production over all important fields of production and in all manufacturing countries, the more it reduced individual production to an insignificant residuum, the more clearly was brought out the incom- patibility of socialised production with capitalistic appropriation. The first capitalists found, as we have said, alongside of other forms of labour, wage-labour ready-made for them on the market. But it was exceptional, complementary, accessory, transitory wage-labour. The agricultural labourer, though, upon occasion, he hired himself out by the day, had a few acres of his own land on which he could at ali events live at a pinch. The guilds were so organised that the journey- man of to-day became the master of to-morrow. But all this changed, as soon as the means of production became socialised and concentrated in the hands of capitalists. The means of production, as well as the product, of the individual producer became more and more worthless ; there was nothing left for him but to turn wage-worker under the capitalist. Wage-labour, aforetime the exception and accessory, now became the rule and basis of all production; aforetime complementary, it now became the sole remaining function of the worker. The wage- worker for a time became a wage-worker for life. The number of these permanent wage-workers was further enormously increased by the breaking-up of the feudal system that occurred at the same time, by the disbanding of the retainers of the feudal lords, the eviction of the SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 39 peasants from their homesteads, etc. The separation was made com- plete between the means of production concentrated in the hands of the capitalists on the one side, and the producers, possessing nothing but their labour-power, on the other. The contradiction between socialised production and capitalistic appropriation manifested itself as the antag- onism of proletariat and bourgeoisie. | We have seen that the capitalistic mode of production thrust its way into a society of commodity-producers, of individual producers, whose social bond was the exchange of their products. But every soci- ety, based upon the production of commodities, has this peculiarity : that the producers have lost control over their own social inter-relations. Each man produces for himself with such means of production as he may happen to have, and for such exchange as he may require to satisfy his remaining wants. No one knows how much of his particular article is coming on the market, nor how much of it will be wanted. No one knows whether his individual product will meet an actual demand, whether he will be able to make good his cost of production or even to sell his commodity at all. Anarchy reigns in socialised production. But the production of commodities, like every other form of pro- duction, has its peculiar, inherent laws inseparable from it; and these laws work, despite anarchy, in and through anarchy. They reveal themselves in the only persistent form of social inter-relations, 7. e., in exchange, and here they affect the individual producers as compulsory laws of competition. They are, at first, unknown to these producers themselves, and have to be discovered by them gradually and as the result of experience. They work themselves out, therefore, independ- ently of the producers, and in antagonism to them, as inexorable natural laws of their particular form of production. The product governs the producers. , In medizval society, especially in the earlier centuries, production was essentially directed towards satisfying the wants of the individual. It satisfied, in the main, only the wants of the producer and his family. Where relations of personal dependence existed, as in the country, it also helped to satisfy the wants of the feudal lord. In all this there was, therefore, no exchange; the products, consequently, did not assume the character of commodities.. The family of the peasant produced almost everything they wanted; clothes and furniture, as well as means of sub- sistence. Only when it began to produce more than was sufficient to supply its own wants and the payments in kind to the feudal lord, only 46 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS then did it also produce commodities. This surplus, thrown into so- cialised exchange and offered for sale, became commodities. The artisans of the towns, it is true, had from the first to produce for exchange. But they, also, themselves supplied the greatest part of their own individual wants. They had gardens and plots of land. They turned their cattle out into the communal forest, which, also, yielded them timber and firing. The women spun flax, wool, and so forth. Production for the purpose of exchange, production of com- modities, was only in its infancy. Hence, exchange was restricted, the market narrow, the methods of production stable; there was local ex- clusiveness without, local unity within; the mark in the country, in the town, the guild. But with the extension of the production of commodities, and es- pecially with the introduction of the capitalist mode of production, the laws of commodity-production, hitherto latent, came into action more openly and with greater force. The old bonds were loosened, the old exclusive limits broken through, the producers were more and more turned into independent, isolated producers of commodities. It became apparent that the production of society at large was ruled by absence of plan, by accident, by anarchy; and this anarchy grew to greater and greater height. But the chief means by aid of which the capitalist mode of production intensified this anarchy of socialised production, was the exact opposite of anarchy. It was the increasing organisation of pro- duction, upon a social basis, in every individual productive establish- ment. By this, the old, peaceful, stable condition of things was ended. Wherever this organisation of production was introduced into a branch of industry, it brooked no other method of production by its side. The field of labour became a battle-ground. The great geographical discov- eries, and the colonisation following upon them, multiplied markets and quickened the transformation of handicraft into manufacture. The war did not simply break out between the individual producers of particular localities. The local struggles begat in their turn national conflicts, the commercial wars of the seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries, Finally, modern industry and the opening of the world-market made the struggle universal, and at the same time gave it an unheard-of virulence. Advantages in natural or artificial conditions of production now decide the existence or non-existence of individual capitalists, as well as of whole industries and:countries. He that falls is remoselessly cast aside. It is the Darwinian struggle of the individual for existence transferred from Nature to society with intensified violence. The cone SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 41 ditions of existence natural to the animal appear as the final term of human development. The contradiction between socialised production and capitalistic appropriation now presents itself as an antagonism be- tween the organisation of production in the individual workshop and the anarchy of production in society generally. The capitalistic mode of production moves in these two forms of the antagonism immanent to it from its very origin. It is never able to get out of that “vicious circle,’ which Fourier had already discovered. What Fourier could not, indeed, see in his time, is, that this circle is gradually narrowing; that the movement becomes more and more a spiral, and must come to an end, like the movement of the planets, by collision with the centre. It is the compelling force of anarchy in the production of society at large that more and more completely turns the great majority of men into proletarians; and it is the masses of the proletariat again who will finally put an end to anarchy in production. It is the compelling force of anarchy in social production that turns the limitless perfectibility of machinery under modern industry into a compulsory law by which every individual industrial capitalist must perfect his machinery more and more, under penalty of ruin. But the perfecting of machinery is the making human labour super- fluous. If the introduction and increase of machinery means the displace- ment of millions of manual, by a few,machine workers, improvement in machinery means the displacement of more and more of the machine- workers themselves. It means, in the last instance, the production of a number of available wage-workers in excess of the average needs of capital, the formation of a complete industrial reserve army, as I called it in 1845, available at the times when industry is working at high pressure, to be cast out upon the street when the inevitable crash comes, a constant dead weight upon the limbs of the working-class in its struggle for existence with capital, a regulator for the keeping of wages down to the low level that suits the interests of capital. Thus it comes about, to quote Marx, that machinery becomes the most powerful weapon in the war of capital against the working-class; that the instru- ments of labour constantly tear the means of subistence out of the hands of the labourer; that the very product of the worker is turned into an instrument for his subjugation. Thus it comes about that the economis- ing of the instruments of labour becomes at the same time, from the outset, the most reckless waste of labour-power, and robbery based upon the normal conditions under which labour functions ; that machin- ery, “the most powerful instrument for shortening labour-time, becomes 42 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS the most unfailing means for placing every moment of the labourer’s time and that of his family at the disposal of the capitalist for the pur- pose of expanding the value of his capital” (“Capital,’ English edition, p. 406). Thus it comes about that over-work of some becomes the pre- liminary condition for the idleness of others, and that modern industry, which hunts after new consumers over the whole world, forces the con- sumption of the masses at home down to a starvation minimum, and in doing thus destroys its own home market. “The law that always equi- librates the relative surplus population, or industrial reserve army, to the extent and energy of accumulation, this law rivets the labourer to capital more firmly than the wedges of Vulcan did Prometheus to the rock. It establishes an accumulation of misery, corresponding with accumulation of capital. Accumulation of wealth at one pole is, there- fore, at the same time, accumulation of misery, agony of toil, slavery, ignorance, brutality, mental degradation, at the opposite pole, 7. ¢., on the side of the class that produces its own product in the form of cap- ital.”’ (Marx’ “Capital” [Sonnenschein & Co.], p. 661.) And to ex- pect any other division of the products from the capitalistic mode of production is the same as expecting the electrodes of a battery not to decompose acidulated water, not to liberate oxygen at the positive, hydrogen at the negative pole, so long as they are connected with the battery. We have seen that the ever-increasing perfectibility of modern machinery is, by the anarchy of social production, turned into a com- pulsory law that forces the individual industrial capitalist always to improve his machinery, always to increase its productive force. The bare possibility of extending the field of production is transformed for him into a similar compulsory law. The enormous expansive force of modern industry, compared with which that of gases is mere child’s play, appears to us now as a necessity for expansion, both qualitative and quantitative, that laughs at all resistance. Such resistance is offered by consumption, by sales, by the markets for the products of modern industry. But the capacity for extension, extensive and inten- sive, of the markets is primarily governed by quite different laws, that work much less energetically. The extension of the markets cannot keep pace with the extension of production. The collision becomes inevitable, and as this cannot produce any real solution so long as it does not break in pieces the capitalist mode of production, the col- lisions become periodic. Capitalists production has begotten another “vicious circle.” SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 43 As a matter of fact, since 1825, when the first general crisis broke out, the whole industrial and commercial world, production and ex- change among all civilised peoples and their more or less barbaric hangers-on, are thrown out of joint about once every ten years. Com- merce is at a standstill, the markets are glutted, products accumulate, as multitudinous as they are unsalable, hard cash disappears, credit vanishes, factories are closed, the mass of the workers are in want of the means of subsistence, because they have produced too much of the means of subsistence; bankruptcy follows upon bankruptcy, execution upon execution. The stagnation lasts for years; productive forces and products are wasted and destroyed wholesale, until the accumulated mass of commodities finally filter off, more or less depreciated in value, until production and exchange gradually begin to move again. Little by little the pace quickens. It becomes a trot. The industrial trot breaks into a canter, the canter in turn grows into the headlong gallop ofa perfect steeplechase of industry, commercial credit, and speculation, which finally, after breakneck leaps, ends where it began—in the ditch of a crisis. And so over and over again. We have now, since the year 1825, gone through this five times, and at the present moment (1877) we are going through it for the sixth time. And the character of these crises is so clearly defined that Fourier hit all of them off, when he described the first as “crise plethorique,” a crisis from plethora. In these crises, the contradiction between socialised production and capitalist appropriation ends in a violent explosion. The circulation of commodities is, for the time being, stopped. Money, the means of cir- culation, becomes a hindrance to circulation. All the laws of production and circulation of commodities are turned upside down. The economic collision has reached its apogee. The mode of production is in rebellion against the mode of exchange. The fact that the socialised organisation of production within the factory has developed so far that it has become incompatible with the anarchy of production in society, which exists side by side with and dominates it, is brought home to the capitalists themselves by the violent concentration of capital that occurs during crises, through the ruin of many large, and a still greater number of small, capitalists. The whole mechanism of the capitalist mode of production breaks down under the pressure of the productive forces, its own creations. It is no longer able to turn all this mass of means of production into capital. They lie fal- low, and for that very reason the industrial reserve army must also lie 44 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS fallow. Means of production, means of subsistence, available labourers, all the elements of production and of general wealth, are present in abundance. But “abundance becomes the source of distress and want” (Fourier), because it is the very thing that prevents the transformation of the means of production and subsistence into capital. For in capital- istic society the means of production can only function when they have undergone a preliminary transformation into capital, into the means of exploiting human labour-power. The necessity of this transformation into capital of the means of production and subsistence stands like a ghost between these and the workers. It alone prevents the coming together of the material and personal levers of production; it alone for- bids the means of production to function, the workers to work and live. On the one hand, therefore, the capitalistic mode of production stands convicted of its own incapacity to further direct these productive forces. On the other, these productive forces themselves, with increasing energy, press forward to the removal of the existing contradiction, to the aboli- tion of their quality as capital, to the practical recognition of their character as social productive forces. This rebellion of the productive forces, as they grow more and more powerful, against their quality as capital, this stronger and stronger command that their social character shall be recognised, forces the capitalist class itself to treat them more and more as social produc- tive forces, so far as this is possible under capitalist conditions. The period of industrial high pressure, with its unbounded inflation of credit, not less than the crash itself, by the collapse of great capitalist establish- ments, tends to bring about that form of the socialisation of great masses of means of production, which we meet with in the different kinds of joint-stock companies. Many of these means of production and of dis- tribution are, from the outset, so colossal, that, like the railroads, they exclude all other forms of capitalistic exploitation. At a fur- ther stage of evolution this form also becomes insufficient. The pro- ducers on a large scale in a particular branch of industry in a particular country unite in a “Trust,” a union for the purpose of regulat- ing production. They determine the total amount to be produced, parcel it out among themselves, and thus enforce the selling price fixed beforehand. But trusts of this kind, as soon as business becomes bad, are generally liable to break up, and, on this very account, compel a yet greater concentration of association. The whole of the particular industry is turned into one gigantic joint-stock com- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 45 pany; internal competition gives place to the internal monopoly of this one company. This has happened in 1890 with the English alkali production, which is now, after the fusion of 48 large works, in the hands of one company, conducted upon a single plan, and with a capital of £6,000,000. . In the trusts, freedom of competition changes into its very opposite —into monopoly; and the production without any definite plan of cap- italistic society capitulates to the production upon a definite plan of the invading socialistic society. Certainly this is so far still to the benefit and advantage of the capitalists. But in this case the exploitation is so palpable that it must break down. No nation will put up with produc- tion conducted by trusts, with so barefaced an exploitation of the com- munity by a small band of dividend-mongers. In any case, with trusts or without, the official representative of capitalist society—the State—will ultimately have to undertake the di- rection of production. This necessity for conversion into State-property is felt first in the great institutions for intercourse and communication— the post-office, the telegraphs, the railways. If the crises demonstrate the incapacity of the bourgeoisie for man- aging any longer modern productive forces, the transformation of the great establishments for production and distribution into joint-stock companies, trusts, and State property, show how unnecessary the bour- geoisie are for that purpose. All the social functions of the capitalists are now performed by salaried employees. The capitalist has no further social function than that of pocketing dividends, tearing off coupons, and gambling on the Stock Exchange, where the different capitalists despoil one another of their capital. At first the capitalistic mode of production forces out the workers. Now it forces out the capitalists, and reduces them, just as it reduced the workers, to the ranks of the surplus population, although not immediately into those of the indus- trial reserve army. But the transformation, either into joint-stock companies and trusts, or into State-ownership, does not do away with the capitalistic nature of the productive forces. In the joint-stock companies and trusts this is obvious. And the modern State, again, is only the organisation that bourgeois society takes on in order to support the external conditions of the capitalist mode of production against the encroachments, as well of the workers as of individual capitalists. The modern State, no mat- ter what its form, is essentially a capitalistic machine, the state of the 46 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS capitalists, the ideal personification of the total national capital. The more it proceeds to the taking over of productive forces, the more does it actually become the national capitalist, the more the citizens does it exploit. The workers remain wage-workers—proletarians. The cap- italist relation is not done away with. It is rather brought to a head. But, brought to a head, it topples over. State-ownership of the pro- ductive forces is not the solution of the conflict, but concealed within it are the technical conditions that form the elements of that solution. This solution can only consist in the practical recognition of the social nature of the modern forces of production, and therefore in the harmonising the modes of production, appropriation, and exchange with the socialised character of the means of production. And this can only come about by society openly and directly taking possession of the pro- ductive forces which have outgrown all control except that of society asa whole. The social character of the means of production and of the products to-day reacts against the producers, periodically disrupts all production and exchange, acts only like a law of Nature working blindly, forcibly, destructively. But with the taking over by society of the productive forces, the social character of the means of production and of the products will be utilised by the producers with a perfect un- derstanding of its nature, and instead of being a source of disturbance and periodical collapse, will become the most powerful lever of produc- tion itself. Active social forces work exactly like natural forces: blindly, for- cibly, destructively, so long as we do not understand, and reckon with, them. But when once we understand them, when once we grasp their action, their direction, their effects, it depends only upon ourselves to subject them more and more to our own will, and by means of them to reach our own ends. And this holds quite especially of the mighty productive forces of to-day. As long as we obstinately refuse to under- stand the nature and the character of these social means of action—and this understanding goes against the grain of the capitalist mode of pro- duction and its defenders—so long these forces are at work in spite of us, in opposition to us, so long they master us, as we have shown above in detail. But when once their nature is understood, they can, in the hands of the producers working together, be transformed from master demons into willing servants. The difference is as that between the destructive force of electricity in the lightning of the storm, and electricity under SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 47 command in the telegraph and the voltaic arc; the difference between a _ conflagration, and fire working in the service of man. With this recog- nition at last of the real nature of the productive forces of to-day, the social anarchy of production gives place to a social regulation of production upon a definite plan, according to the needs of the com- munity and of each individual. Then the capitalist mode of appro- priation, in which the product enslaves first the producer and then the appropriator, is replaced by the mode of appropriation of the products that is based upon the nature of the modern means of pro- duction ; upon the one hand, direct social appropriation, as means to the maintenance and extension of production—on the other, direct individ- ual appropriation, as means of subsistence and of enjoyment. Whilst the capitalist mode of production more and more completely transforms the great majority of the population into proletarians, it creates the power which, under penalty of its own destruction, is forced to accomplish this revolution. Whilst it forces on more and more the transformation of the vast means of production, already socialised, into State property, it shows itself the way to accomplishing this revolution. The proletariat seizes political power and turns the means of production into State property. But, in doing this, it abolishes itself as proletariat, abolishes all class distinctions and class antagonisms, abolishes also the State as State. Society thus far, based upon class antagonisms, had need of the State. That is, of an organisation of the particular class which was pro tempore the exploiting class, an organisation for the purpose of pre- venting any interference from without with the existing conditions of production, and therefore, especially, for the purpose of forcibly keeping the exploited classses in the condition of oppression corresponding with the given mode of production (slavery, serfdom, wage-labour). The State was the official representative of society as a whole; the gathering of it together into a visible embodiment. But it was this only in so far as it was the State of that class which itself represented, for the time being, society as a whole; in ancient times, the State of slave-owning citizens; in the middle ages, the feudal lords; in our own time, the bourgeoisie. When at last it becomes the real representative of the whole of society, it renders itself unnecessary. As soon as there is no longer any social class to be held in subjection; as soon as class rule, and the individual struggle for existence based upon our present anarchy in production, with the collisions and excesses arising from these, are 48 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS removed, nothing more remains to be repressed, and a special repressive force, a State, is no longer necessary. The first act by virtue of which the State really constitutes itself the representative of the whole of society—the talking possession of the means of production in the name of society—this is, at the same time, its last independent act as a State. State interference in social relations becomes, in one domain after an- other, superfluous, and then dies out of itself; the government of per- sons is replaced by the administration of things, and by the conduct of processes of production. The State is not “abolished.” J¢ dies out. This gives the measure of the value of the phrase “a free State,” both as to its justifiable use at times by agitators, and as to its ultimate scientific insufficiency; and also of the demands of the so-called anar- chists for the abolition of the State out of hand. Since the historical appearance of the capitalist mode of production, the appropriation by society of all the means of production has often been dreamed of, more or less vaguely, by individuals, as well as by sects, as the ideal of the future. But it could become possible, could become a historical necessity, only when the actual conditions for its realisation were there. Like every other social advance, it becomes practicable, not by men understanding that the existence of classes is in contradiction to justice, equality, etc., not by the mere willingness to abolish these classes, but by virtue of certain new economic conditions. The separation of society into an exploiting and an exploited class, a ruling and an oppressed class, was the necessary consequence of the deficient and restricted development of production in former times. So long as the total social labour only yields a produce which but slightly exceeds that barely necessary for the existence of all; so long, therefore, as labour engages all or almost all the time of the great majority of the members of society—so long, of necessity, this society is divided into classes. Side by side with the great majority, exclusively bond slaves to labour, arises a class freed from directly productive labour, which looks after the general affairs of society; the direction of labour, State business, law, science, art, etc. It is, therefore, the law of division of labour that lies at the basis of the division into classes. But this does - not prevent this division into classes from being carried out by means of violence and robbery, trickery and fraud. It does not prevent the ruling class, once having the upper hand, from consolidating its power at the expense of the working-class, from turning their social leadership into an intensified exploitation of the masses. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 49 But if, upon this showing, division into classes has a certain his- torical justification, it has this only for a given period, only under given social conditions. It was based upon the insufficiency of production. It will be swept away by the complete development of modern produc- tive forces. And, in fact, the abolition of classes in society presupposes a degree of historical evolution, at which the existence, not simply of this or that particular ruling class, but of any ruling class at all, and, therefore, the existence of class distinction itself has become an obsolete anachronism. It presupposes, therefore, the development of production carried out to a degree at which appropriation of the means of produc- tion and of the products, and, with this, of political domination, of the monopoly of culture, and of intellectual leadership by a particular class of society, has become not only superfluous, but economically, politically, intellectually a hindrance to development. This point is now reached. Their political and intellectual bank- ruptcy is scarcely any longer a secret to the bourgeoisie themselves. Their economic bankruptcy recurs regularly every ten years. In every crisis, society is suffocated beneath the weight of its own productive forces and products, which it cannot use, and stands helpless, face to face with the absurd contradiction that the producers have nothing to consume, because consumers are wanting. The expansive force of the means of production bursts the bonds that the capitalist mode of pro- duction had imposed upon them. Their deliverance from these bonds is the one pre-condition for an unbroken, constantly-accelerated devel- opment of the productive forces, and therewith for a practically unlim- ited increase of production itself. Nor is this all. The socialised appropriation of the means of production does away, not only with the present artificial restrictions upon production, but also with the positive waste and devastation of productive forces and products that are at the present time the inevitable concomitants of production, and that reach their height in the crises. Further, it sets free for the community at large a mass of means of production and of products, by doing away with the senseless extravagance of the ruling classes of to-day, and their political representatives. The possibility of securing for every member of soci- ety, by means of socialised production, an existence not only fully suffi- cient materially, and becoming day by day more full, but an existence guaranteeing to all the free development and exercise of their physical and mental faculties—this possibility is now for the first time here, but at is here. X. 4, 50 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS With the seizing of the means of production by society, production of commodities is done away with, and, simultaneously, the mastery of the product over the producer. Anarchy in social production is replaced by systematic, definite organisation. The struggle for individual exist- ence disappears. Then for the first time, man, in a certain sense, is finally marked off from the rest of the animal kingdom, and emerges from mere animal conditions of existence into really human ones. The whole sphere of the conditions of life which environ man, and which have hitherto ruled man, now comes under the dominion and control of man, who for the first time becomes the real, conscious lord of Nature, because he has now become master of his own social organisation. The laws of his own social action, hitherto standing face to face with man as laws of Nature foreign to, and dominating, him, will then be used with full understanding, and so mastered by him. Man’s own social organisation, hitherto confronting him as a necessity imposed by Nature and history, now becomes the result of his own free action. The ex- traneous objective forces that have hitherto governed history, pass under the control of man himself. Only from that time will man himself, more and more consciously, make his own history—only from that time will the social causes set in movement by him have, in the main and in a constantly growing measure, the results intended by him. It is the ascent of man from the kingdom of necessity to the kingdom of freedom. Let us briefly sum up our sketch of historical evolution. I. Medizval Society.—Individual production on asmall scale. Means of production adapted for individual use; hence primitive, un- gainly, petty, dwarfed in action. Production for immediate consump- tion, either of the producer himself or of his feudal lord. Only where an excess of production over this consumption occurs is such excess offered for sale, enters into exchange. Production of commodities, therefore, only in its infancy. But already it contains within itself, in embryo, anarchy in the production of society at large. II. Capitalist Revolution—Transformation of industry, at first by means of simple co-operation and manufacture. Concentration of the means of production, hitherto scattered, into great workshops. As a consequence, their transformation from individual to social means of production—a transformation which does not, on the whole, affect the form of exchange. The old forms of appropriation remain in force. The capitalist appears. In his capacity as owner of the means of pro- duction, he also appropriates the products and turns them into com- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS ol modities. Production has become a social act. Exchange and appro- priation continue to be individual acts, the acts of individuals. The social product is appropriated by the individual capitalist. Fundamental contradiction, whence arise all the contradictions in which our present day society moves, and which modern industry brings to light. A. Severance of the producer from the means of production. Condemnation of the worker to wage-labour for life. Antagonism be- tween the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. B. Growing predominance and increasing effectiveness of the laws governing the production of commodities. Unbridled competition. Contradiction between socialised organisation in the individual factory and social anarchy in production as a whole. C. On the one hand, perfecting of machinery, made by competi- tion compulsory for each individual manufacturer, and complemented by a constantly growing displacement of labourers. Industrial reserve- army. On the other hand, unlimited extension of production, also com- pulsory under competition, for every manufacturer. On both sides, unheard of development of productive forces, excess of supply over demand, over-production, glutting of the markets, crises every ten years, the vicious circle: excess here, of means of production and prod- ucts—excess there, of labourers, without employment and without means of existence. But these two levers of production and of social well- being are unable to work together, because the capitalist form of pro- duction prevents the productive forces from working and the products from circulating, unless they are first turned into capital—which their very superabundance prevents. The contradiction has grown into an absurdity. The mode of production rises in rebellion against the form of exchange. ‘The bourgeoisie are convicted of incapacity further to manage their own social productive forces. D. Partial recognition of the social character of the productive forces forced upon the capitalists themselves. Taking over of the great institutions for production and communication, first by joint-stock com- panies, later on by trusts, then by the State. The bourgeoisie demon- strated to be a superfluous class. All its social functions are now per- formed by salaried employees. III. Proletarian Revolution.—Solution of the contradictions. The proletariat seizes the public power, and by means of this transforms the socialised means of production, slipping from the hands of the bour- geoisie, into public property. By this act, the proletariat frees the 52 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS means of production from the character of capital they have thus far borne, and gives their socialised character complete freedom to work itself out. Socialised production upon a pre-determined plan becomes henceforth possible. The development of production makes the exist- ence of different classes of society thenceforth an anachronism. In proportion as anarchy in social production vanishes, the political author- ity of the State dies out. Man, at last the master of his own form of social organisation, becomes at the same time the lord over Nature, his own master—free. To accomplish this act of universal emancipation is the historical mission of the modern proletariat. To thoroughly comprehend the his- torical conditions and thus the very nature of this act, to impart to the now oppressed proletarian class a full knowledge of the conditions and of the meaning of the momentous act it is called upon to accomplish, this is the task of the theoretical expression of the proletarian move- ment, scientific Socialism. INTERSTATE COMMERCE COMMISSION As A RESULT of the report of the special Senate committee on Inter- state Commerce, the Interstate Commerce Act was passed February 4, 1887. The considerations that led to its passage are given below in the committee’s report. The main provisions of the act are these :— The act applies to interstate transportation only; it decrees that charges must be reasonable; that there shall be no unjust discrimination between shippers, in charges or service; nor between connecting lines; a common carrier cannot receive any greater compensation in the aggre- gate, under substantially similar circumstances for a shorter than longer distance over the samme line in the same direction; pooling is made un- Jawful; schedules and charges must be posted, and ten days’ notice given of an advance, three days of a reduction in rates; an interstate com- merce commission of five commissioners, appointed by the President, is established; this may sit as a court to hear complaints, and its deci- sions and finding of fact shall be taken as prima facie evidence; officers may be compelled to testify, but their evidence shall not be used against SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 53 them in any criminal proceedings. In case of disobedience United States courts may be petitioned. THE PUBLIC CONTROL OF RAILROADS The introduction of the railroad brought into the world an untried and powerful force, the possibilities of which are even yet but imper- fectly understood, and its operation brought important questions which of necessity were met and decided blindly, without the advantage of precedent or experience, and without any adequate appreciation of the unforeseen and manifold changes that have since resulted through its agency. During what may be termed the era of construction the chief consideration that influenced the people and the legislatures of Great Britain and America was how to secure railroads, not how to control them. It was many years before the necessity of control became appar- ent or the matters over which control was needed became understood. The construction of railroads was at first authorized by special charters. When the first charters were granted it was supposed that the railroad would be merely a modification of or an improvement upon the public highway; that it would simply furnish a line of communication open to all, like a canal, and that it could be used at pleasure, as a water route it used, by all who might be disposed to place upon it means of carriage. It was also supposed that the railroad would be used only for the carriage of passengers, and not for the transportation of freight, except perhaps to a limited extent. How thoroughly this misconception prevailed is illustrated by a report made to the New York legislature as late as 1835, in which the four leading engineers of that state expressed the following remarkable opinion: The railroads admit of advantageous use in districts where canals, for the want of water, would be impracticable. They will probably be preferred where high velocities are required, and for the transportation of passengers, and, under some circumstances, for the conveyance of light goods. The supposed analogy between the railroad and the public highway in their relations to the community gave direction to the earlier legisla- tion of England and the United States. And even when the discovery was made that there was an element of monopoly inseparably connected with the business of transportation by rail, the earlier efforts at regula- 54 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS tion were directed at the limitation of the profits of the corporation rather than towards the protection of the shipper. The widely varying methods which have been adopted by different Governments in dealing with the problems of railway development and regulation may be grouped as follows: 1, The policy of private ownership and private management— (a) Without interference or supervision by the Government, (b) Subject to compulsory and penal legislation for control and regulation of rates. (c) Subject to investigation by a commission with advisory pow- ers, and depending largely upon public aes: for the enforcement of its recommendations. (d) Subject to investigation by a commission with power to fix and regulate rates. 2. Exclusive State ownership and Government management. 3. State ownership and private management under Government supervision and control. 4. Partial State ownership and management in competition with private ownership and management. Regulation through state ownership has been practically unknown in the United States. It is of foreign origin and is foreign to the char- acter of our institutions. The time may come when the people of the United States will be forced to consider the advisability of placing the railways of the country completely under the control of the General Government, as the postal service is, and as many believe the telegraph service should be. This would seem to be the surest method of securing the highest perfect and the greatest efficiency of the railroad system in its entirety, and the best method of making it an harmonious whole in its operation and of bringing about that uniformity and stability of rates which is the greatest need of trade and commerce. But the dangers to be apprehended from the giving of such vast additional power to the Government will always prove a formidable barrier to the adoption of such a policy, and this committee sees no necessity for considering its advantages or disadvantages until other methods of regulation more American in spirit have at least been given a trial and have proved unsatisfactory. Nor is it deemed important to investigate in detail the experience of those European nations in which the policy of State own- ership or management in one form or another has prevailed. In those nations the railroad question has presented itself under different conditions, and has admitted of methods of regulation wholly impracticable in the United States, by reason of the marked differences in the organization of the machinery of government and in the customs, SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 55 temper, and habits of thought of the people. The English railroad system, however, has grown up under conditions more nearly resem- bling those prevailing upon this side of the Atlantic than those existing in any other country. It has been developed under the operation of the principle of private ownership and management, subject to Parliament- ary control, and substantially all of the methods of regulation proposed in this country had first been tested there. The English people early undertook the legislative regulation of their railroads. They have been considerably in advance of us in dealing with the difficulties that have been encountered, and have given the subject no little attention. For these reasons the experience of England is of more interest and value to us than that of those nations in which the policy of state ownership has been more or less generally adopted, and these reasons seem to warrant a glance at the efforts which have been made in that country for more than fifty years to unravel the complications of the railroad question, and to hit upon a satisfactory method of enforcing the performance of public obligations and of adjusting the relations be- tween the railroads and the people. The information on these subjects herewith submitted is based largely upon the statements contained in the numerous reports which have been made by Parliamentary com- mittees. THE COURSE OF RAILROAD LEGISLATION IN ENGLAND—-WORKINGS OF THE ENGLISH COMMISSION—THE PRESENT STATUS OF AFFAIRS When railroad construction began in England that country already had quite a complete system of canals, with which the new methods of transportation came immediately into active competition. By the char- ters first granted the railroads were required to admit to their lines the cars and locomotives of other companies and individuals, and the acts usually prescribed the maximum tolls to be charged for such service. These were regulations which it had been found necessary to apply to the canals, in the management of which abuses had been complained of somewhat similar to those that afterwards characterized the manage- ment of railways. Competition between the different carriers who were expected to use the route was relied on to secure to the public needful facilities and fair rates under these provisions. But this was not the result, and within ten years after the opening of the first railway it was generally recognized that a railroad must be to some extent a monopoly, because the service to be performed was of such a nature that the high- \ 56 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS est degree of efficiency would be attained and the convenience of the public would be best subserved by committing the work to but one carrier. It is worthy of remark that even at that early period in railroad history the future direction of the development of the system was clearly foreseen by at least one man. In the words of Mr. Sterne: I have in hand a speech delivered in the House of Commons by Mr. James Morrison on the 17th of May, 1836. Mr. Morrison was the A. T. Stewart of England, and died leaving a fortune of four or five million pounds sterling. He was a member of Parliament, and he told his associates, as early as 1836, that their maximum rates would be of no value, that the economies of railway transportation from decade to decade, and the improvement of railway transportation and the devel- opment of railway traffic, would make their maximum rates ridiculously high, and would be an excuse for extortion in individual instances. Indeed, the clear understanding which he had of the railway problem, as early as 1836, was absolutely marvelous. But no attention was paid to his recommendation ; it was voted down. They recognize now, how- ever, that Mr. Morrison was one of the few men who then foresaw the railway problems of the present as they are now developing. The new questions raised by this discovery of the element of monop- oly in railroad transportation were considered by a Parliamentary com- mittee, of which Sir Robert Peel was a member, and which reported in 1840 that the method of competition which has been described was impracticable ; that monopoly upon each line was inevitable, that a single management of each railway was expedient, and that these changed conditions made necessary the protection of the public interests, for the reason “that the interest of the companies was, to a certain extent only, that of the public.” At the same time the committee expressed the belief that “an enlightened view of their own interests would always compel managers of railroads to have due regard to the general advant- age of the public.” It was supposed that the principles of free trade would apply in the construction and operation of railroads, and it was quite naturally expected that this business would be subject to the same natural laws of competition that governed and regulated other commercial enter- prises and operations. While these theories held sway parallel lines were looked to as an effective means of regulation. Parliament encouraged the building of competing lines, and this policy brought on a period of great activity in railroad construction and speculation. But the effects of competition between different lines were not what had been anticipated, and attracted SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 57 so much attention that in 1844 another committee, headed by Mr. Glad- stone, was appointed, which took under consideration the question of competition and management, and submitted in all five reports. The second report recommended the appointment by Parliament of private bill committees to examine into the propriety of proposed competing schemes, and the third expressed the following conclusions : That the indefinite concessions made to the earlier companies had become unnecessary ; that competition between railways would do more harm to the companies than good to the public; that the effect of monopoly upon the public directly and upon the railways indirectly ought to be guarded against, and that in authorizing new lines Parlia- ment should reserve certain powers to be exercised after a time. The idea of state ownership as an effective means of regulation captivated this committee, which became convinced that the people must in one way or another pay for whatever transportation facilities they enjoyed, and that the main question was how to secure by legisla- tion “the greatest amount of accommodation at the least cost.’ And the general conclusion reached by the committee in its final report was that regulation was to be depended upon rather than competition. These reports led to the passage in 1844 of a law looking to the ultimate acqui- sition of the railways by the Government, and prescribing the terms of their purchase at the expiration of twenty-one years should that policy be decided upon. During this interval another unexpected characteristic of railway ‘management came prominently into notice. The addition of too many competing lines developed a tendency toward amalgamation, and veri- fied George Stephenson’s axiomatic statement that “Where combination is possible, competition is impossible.” Accordingly, in a report made by the Board of Trade of the United Kingdom relative to the numerous amalgamations proposed in 1845, it was recommended that amalgama- tions should not be permitted by Parliament when the purpose was to avoid competition, but only between branches and main lines or when continuous lines were formed, and then only after due consideration. Another committee, appointed in 1846, discovered that where amalgamations had not been authorized the roads often reached the same end through private working arrangements, some of which virtu- ally amounted to consolidation, and that they avoided competition wherever practicable. On the recommendation of this committee that it was necessary to establish a department of the Government to take “supervision of the railways and canals, with full power to enforce such 58 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS regulations as may from time to time appear indispensable for the accommodation and general interests of the public,” the railway com- mission was created, but was only allowed to exist until 1851, when its duties were transferred to the Board of Trade. Meantime the efforts at amalgamation grew more and more determined, and the process went on by the consent of Parliament, notwithstanding all the restrictions imposed upon it, and despite the growing public dread of its effects. Still another committee inquired into this vexed question of amal- gamation, and its elaborate reports upon the subject brought about the passage of the “canal and railway traffic act” of 1854, usually known as the Cardwell act, which has been the model of much of our State legis- lation against unjust discrimination. The purpose of the act was to prevent undue preferences, and to compel interchange of traffic between railways and between railways and canals upon equal terms. This act established two important principles that have since been generally fol- lowed. One was that every company should be compelled to afford the public the full advantages of the convenient interchange of traffic from one line to another. The second was that the companies were under obligations to and should be required to make equal rates to all under the same circumstances. The time when the state could take possession of the roads came in 1865, and a royal commission was appointed, which gathered a great deal of evidence and went into the questions presented quite fully. The most important conclusions of the commission have been summarized as follows: That it is not expedient for the Government to avail itself of its reserved right to purchase railways. That Parliament should not interfere with the incorporation and financial affairs of railway companies, leaving such matters to be dealt with, under the “joint stock companies act,’ limiting its own action to regulating the construction of the lines and the relations between the public and the companies so incorporated. That railway companies should be bound to run at least two trains a day for third-class passengers. That it would be “inexpedient, even if it were practicable, to adopt any legislation which would abolish the freedom which railway com- panies enjoy of charging what sum they deem expedient within their maximum rates, when properly defined, limited as that freedom is by the traffic act.” | That railway companies should be required to make stated reports to the Board of Trade in such form as the board may require. Finally in 1872, a joint select committee was appointed and made a most thorough investigation of the railroad question. The report of this SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 5g committee passed in review the history of England’s legislation during its experience of forty years. It was shown that little had been accom- plished, although thirty-three hundred acts had been passed and an expenditure of some £80,000,000 had been imposed upon the companies. It was also shown that the process of amalgamation had gone on with little regard to the recommendations of committees, commissions, and Government departments, and the result was that “while committees and commissions carefully chosen have, for the last thirty years, clung to one form of competition after another, it has, nevertheless, become more and more evident that competition must fail to do for railways what it does for ordinary trade ; and that no means have yet been devised by which competition can be permanently maintained.” Nor did the committee see any reason “‘to suppose that the progress of combination has ceased, or that it will cease until Great Britain is divided between a small number of great companies.” At the same time, however, the committee made it evident that in the past amalgamation “had not brought with it the evils that were anticipated, but that in any event long and varied experience had fully demonstrated the fact that while Parliament might hinder and thwart, it could not prevent it, and it was equally powerless to lay down any general rules determining its limits or character.” Other important conclusions were reached by the committee as follows : | That competition between railways existed only to a limited extent and could not be maintained by legislation. That combination was increasing and likely to increase. That competition by sea should be secured by preventing railway companies from getting control over public harbors. That canals were of advantage in securing competition; that their facilities for through shipments should be increased, and that no canal should be placed directly or indirectly under the control of any railway company. That a system of equal mileage rates, or charges in proportion to distance, was inexpedient and impracticable for the following reasons: (a) It would prevent railway companies from lowering their fares and rates, so as to compete with traffic by sea, by canal, or by shorter or otherwise cheaper railways, and would thus deprive the public of the benefit of competition, and the company of a legitimate source of rofit. i (b) It would prevent railway companies from making perfectly fair arrangements for carrying at a lower rate than usual goods brought in larger and constant quantities, or for carrying for long distances at a lower rate than for short distances. (c) It would compel a company to carry for the same rate over a 60 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS line which has been very expensive in construction, or which, from gradients or otherwise, is very expensive in working, at the same rate at which it carries over less expensive lines. In short, to impose equal mileage on the companies would be to deprive the public of the benefit of much of the competition which now exists, or has existed, to raise the charges on the public in many cases where the companies now find it to their interest to lower them, and to perpetuate monopolies in carriage, trade, and manufacture in favor of those rates and places which are nearest or least expensive, where the varying charges of the companies now create competition. And it will be found that the supporters of equal mileage, when pressed, often really mean, not that the rates that they pay themselves are too high, but that the rates that others pay are too low. Pressed by these difficulties, the proposers of equal mileage have admitted that there must be numerous exceptions, e. g., where there is sea competition (1. e., at about three-fifths of the railway stations of the United Kingdom), where low rates for long distances will bring a profit, or where the article carried at low rates is a necessary, such as coal. It is scarcely necessary to observe that such exceptions as these, while inadequate to meet all the various cases, destroy the value of “equal mileage” as a principle, or the possibility of applying it as a general rule. That the fixing of legal rates based upon the actual cost of the rail- ways and calculated to yield only a fair return upon such cost was impracticable. That the plan of maximum charges had been a failure, and that such rates afforded little real protection to the public, since they were always fixed so high that sooner or later it became the interest of the companies to carry at lower rates. That there should be publicity of rates and tolls. That the new tribunal was needed to take supervision of the trans- portation interests of the Kingdom, and with authority to enforce the laws relating to railways and canals, to hear complaints and adjust dif- ferences, and to advise Parliament upon questions of railway legislation. This investigation, by making plain the lessons taught by many years of experience, was especially valuable in at least bringing about a general recognition of the fact that the relations between the railways and the community require special treatment and cannot be defined or governed in accordance with the natural laws regulating ordinary com- mercial intercourse. It was evident that the policy adopted by the committee, if followed out to its conclusion, might lead in time to a few great corporations obtaining an absolute monopoly of the business of transportation by rail throughout the entire Kingdom, and even to finally placing the control of these most important interests in the hands of a small number of individuals, whose powers might become greater than those of the Government itself. Nevertheless, without being able to indicate how the relations between the Government and these great monopolies would or should ultimately be adjusted, the com- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 61 mittee did not appear to believe that the time was ripe to check the development of the railway system of Great Britain by extreme meas- ures, and was content to recommend the establishment of a special tribunal as the first step to be taken in inaugurating the policy of special treatment which it had become apparent must be adopted to meet the exigencies of the situation. This recommendation was complied with by the creation of what is known as the railway commission of 1873, which was at first given a tenure of but five years, but which has since been continued. This tri- bunal is chiefly judicial in character; it is, in fact, a separate railway court, composed of three commissioners or judges, and has jurisdiction over all matters in relation to the interchange of traffic, and to all con- tracts between railway companies, as well as complaints of undue pref- erence and of other violations of railway laws. The most recent official declaration concerning this commission is found in the report of the select committee of twenty-seven members, appointed by the House of Commons, in 1882, to inquire into its working and the rates charged by railways and canals. After an investigation, lasting several months, this committee reported that the tribunal should be made permanent as well as special, and say: The railway commission has, to a great extent, been hindered in its work by the temporary character with which it has hitherto been invested. At the same time your committee are convinced that the establishment of the commission has been of great public advantage, not merely in causing justice to be speedily done in those cases which have been brought before it, but also in preventing differences from arising as between railway companies and the public. Its utility is not to be ‘measured solely by the instances in which it has been called upon to “hear and determine,” but also by the deterrent and controlling influ- ence of its existence. Representatives of the railway companies, backed up by legal gen- tlemen of eminence, have urged upon your committee that it is not desirable to continue the special tribunal in its present form, but that the court should be reconstituted by the appointment of a single judge, to be selected from the bench or the bar, aided by assessors wherever other than legal knowledge is required. From the traders and the general public, on the other hand, no demand has come for such a change; on the contrary, the general tenor of their evidence exhibits satisfaction with the services rendered to the public by the existing railway com- mission. Accordingly the committee recommended : That the railway commission be made permanent, and a court of record. 62 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS That the powers and jurisdiction of the railway commission be extended to cover— (a) All questions arising under the special acts or the public statutes for regulating railway or canal traffic affecting passengers or goods. (b) The making of orders which may necessitate the co-operation of two or more railway or canal companies within the statutory obliga- tions of the companies. (c) Power to order through rates on the application of traders, but no such order to impose on a railway company a rate lower than the lowest rate of such railway company for similar articles under simi- lar circumstances. (d) The revision of traffic agreements both of railways and canals, in as large a measure as the powers formerly exercised by the Board of Trade. (e¢) The granting of damages and redress for illegal charges and undue preferences. (f) The commissioners to have power, on the joint application of parties, to act as referees in rating appeals. That the railway commissioners should deliver separate judgments when not unanimous. One appeal to be granted as of right from the judgments of the commission, and “prohibition” as well as “certiorari” to be forbidden. In conclusion, the committee “report that on the whole of the evi- dence they acquit the railway companies of any grave dereliction of their duty to the public. It is remarkable that no witnesses have appeared to complain of ‘preferences’ given to individuals by railway companies as acts of private favor or partiality, such as were more or less frequent during the years immediately preceding the act of 1854. Your committee find that the rates for merchandise on the railways of the United Kingdom are, in the main, considerably below the maxima authorized by Parliament, although these charges appear to be higher for the longer distances than on many continental lines. But on the other hand, the service of our home railways is performed much more rapidly than on the continent.” For later and more complete information concerning the English Railway Commission than could elsewhere be obtained the committee is indebted to the recently published work on “Railroad Transportation,” by Mr. Arthur T. Hadley, of New Haven, who has made a very careful study of the English railway system and legislation. The results of his investigations are herewith presented in condensed form. He states the general situation as to legislation in the following paragraphs: With the act of 1873 the general railroad legislation may be said to have closed. The movements which the public had feared for thirty years had now pretty much expended their force. Amalgamations SOCIAL MOVEMENTS | 63 which were confidently expected in 1872 did not take place after all. Joint-purse arrangements became less important instead of more import- ant, because railroads found that they could maintain rates. without them. It is not exactly true to say that “in Great Britain the discussion of the railroad problem may be considered as over for the time being.” The railroad problem has ceased to be a bugbear; but it has become all the more a question for practical discussion. Vague fears with regard to the growth of the railway power have given place to pointed com- plaints as to its abuse in individual instances. The period of general legislation has passed. Mr. Adams is right in saying, “As a result of forty years of experiment and agitation Great Britain has on this head come back very nearly to its point of commencement.” He is not quite right in adding, “It has settled down on the doctrine of laissez-faire.” It might better be said that it has settled down on the policy of specific laws for specific troubles. After briefly mentioning the three experiments in the line of rail- way commissions attempted in England, in 1840, 1844, and 1846, Mr. Hadley says: — We have seen what were the events which led to the passage of the regulation of railways act in 1873. The commission appointed under that act was to consist of three members; one of them a railroad man, one a lawyer. They received a salary of £3,000 each. They were to decide all questions arising under the act of 1854, and subsequent acts connected with it. They were further empowered to arbitrate between railroads in a variety of cases; to compel companies to make through rates which should conform to the intention of the act of 1854; to secure publicity of rates; to decide what constitutes a proper terminal charge, and some other less important matters. On questions of fact their decision was to be final; on questions of law it was to be subject to appeal. The railway commissioners themselves were to determine what were questions of fact and what were questions of law. Subsequent _acts have made but slight changes in these powers. The commission consisted of able men—Sir Frederick Peel, Mr. Price, formerly of the Midland Railway, and Mr. Macnamara; the last- named died in 1877, and was succeeded by Mr. A. E. Miller. They went to work with energy, and in a spirit which promised to make the experiment a signal success. And it was at first supposed to be such a success. People judged by the reports of the commission itself; and they were the more prone to believe these reports because it was so desirable to find an easy solution of perplexing questions of railroad policy. Mr. Adams, writing in 1878, said, “The mere fact that the tri- bunal is there; that a machinery does exist for the prompt and final decision of that class of questions, puts an end to them. They no longer exist.” That represented the general public opinion on the subject at the time; it represents the general impression in America down to the present time. In 1878, the very year when Mr. Adams wrote, the original term of the commission expired. People supposed that it would be made 64 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS permanent. Instead of that the renewals have been for much shorter periods, leaving the commissioners a precarious tenure, and showing dissatisfaction somewhere. A Parliamentary investigation on railroad rates in 1881-’82 showed the grounds of dissatisfaction only too clearly. The testimony revealed a state of things almost unsuspected by the general public, and giving an entirely different explanation of the fact that the commissioners had so few cases to deal with. The substance is that the power of the com- mission satisfies nobody. It has power enough to annoy the railroads, and not power enough to help the public efficiently. The railway commission was a court, not an executive body, but to all intents and purposes a court of law. And in establishing this new court, in addition to those already existing, Parliament had two ends in view: (1) To have a tribunal which would and could act when others would or could not. (2) To avoid the expense, delay, and vexation incident to litigation under the old system. Neither end was well ful- filled. (1) The commission could not act, partly from want of jurisdic- tion, partly from want of executive power. Its jurisdiction did not cover by any means the whole ground. The provisions about terminals, arbitration, working agreements, etc., amounted to very little. Its real power was under the act of 1854. It could under this act require com- panies to furnish “proper facilities,” and it could prevent their giving “preferences.” But it could not compel a company to comply with special acts or special provisions of its charter. This is a serious diffi- culty, because the question of proper facilities was closely connected with charter requirements, and the railroad could almost anywhere raise the point of want of jurisdiction. Nor could it enforce its decrees. Passive resistance of the railroads and jealousy on the part of the old established courts combined to pro- duce this effect. For instance, under the act of 1854, if the railways refused to comply with the decisions of the court of common pleas, they were liable to a fine of $1,000 for every day’s delay. The London, Chatham and Dover Railway refused to comply with one of the com- mission’s decisions, and claimed that they were not liable to any such fine, although all the powers of the court of common pleas, under the act of 1854, had been transferred to the railway commission by the act of 1873. The court of exchequer actually sustained the railroad; and it was not until 1878 that by a decision of the Queen’s bench the railway commission really had the power to do anything if a company chose to disregard its orders. The injunctions of the commission, at best, only affect the future; for any remedy for the past there must be a new complaint and trial before a regular court. And so it often happens that a railroad, after exhausting all its means of resistance, obeys the decisions of the com- mission in reference to one particular station, without taking any notice of it at other stations where the same principle is involved. Thus, in the case of the manure traffic of Aberdeen, after long litigation, the rate was decided to be illegal. The railroad then reduced its Aberdeen rates, but continued its old schedule of charges at other points on its route SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 65 where there were not organized interests strong enough to make a fight. On the face of the act of 1873 the decisions of the commission, as to what were questions of fact or questions of law, appeared to be final. But by writ of mandamus from a court of appeal the decision on this point could be at ence taken out of the hands of the commission by com- pelling them “to state a case,” which could then be made the subject of action in the higher court. So this important power was made of no effect. (2) Complaints before the commission are not quite so slow or costly as they were before the courts, but they are bad enough to pre- vent most men from undertaking them. Sir Frederick Peel himself _ admits that the expense frightens people away from making complaints. But this is by no means the worst. The testimony before the Parlia- mentary committee of 1881-’82 is full of matter to startle those who © argue that because there are few complaints before the commission there are few men that have grievances. Men have good reason to think twice before they enter a complaint. In the Aberdeen manure case, already referred to, the Aberdeen men, successful at every point, lost more money than they gained. Every important case is so persistently appealed that the original promptness or cheapness of railway commission practice counts for nothing. But the indirect results are yet worse. A complainant is a marked man, and the commission cannot protect him against the ven- geance of the railroads. A town fares no better. It complains of high terminal charges, and the company retorts by raising the local tariff for that place 100 per cent. A coal mine complains of freight rates, and the company refuses to carry for it on any terms; it has ceased, it says, to be a common carrier of coal. Even the war department is afraid. It has grievances, but it dare not make them public for fear of reprisals. “It is quite clear,” says the secretary of the Board of Trade, “‘that it is a _ very formidable thing to fight a railway company.” It is not easy to see what can be done in the face of these difficulties, so different from anything which we see in most American States. Our commissioners, with fewer powers, have infinitely more power. The “reason is, that in America to defy such an authority involves untold dangers, public sentiment being irritable and unrestrained, whereas in England it involves no danger at all, public sentiment being long-suffer- ing and conservative. The lawyers say, strengthen the legal element in the commission. Some of the railroad men say so too, because they think that a commis- sion formed on the model of the old courts would interfere no more than the old courts. On the other hand, many men desire the appoint- ment of a public prosecutor to relieve individuals of the danger and odium of bringing complaints, or that chambers of commerce may be allowed to undertake such prosecutions. Others go still further and urge that the powers of the commission be increased, and that they be allowed to determine on general grounds what constitutes a reasonable rate. The commission itself would be glad to do that, but such a thing, however cautiously carried out, would involve the granger principle of fixing rates. It seems unlikely that Parliament will make any of these | » aif 66 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS proposed changes, except to give chambers of commerce the right to prefer charges. We have dwelt on the dark side of the picture, because there is a general impression in this country that the English railway commission is a complete success. It must not be inferred that it is a complete fail- ure. It has in the first nine years of its existence passed judgment on one hundred and ten cases. Only seventeen of these have been appealed, and in eleven of them the commissioners have been sustained. The decisions have, as a rule, been marked by good sense and impartiality. The direct good to the complainants may have been small, but the indi- rect good to the public was, doubtless, great. The commission has made serious and generally successful efforts to enforce a law in cases where it would otherwise have been a dead letter. These particular cases may have given more trouble than they were worth. But the very existence of such a power constitutes a check upon arbitrary action in general. We cannot assume, as many do, that the few complaints preferred before the commission represent anything like the amount of well-founded grievances. But we can assume that the chance for such complaints to be made and heeded makes the railroad managers more cautious in giving occasion for them. Although no one is fully satisfied with what the commission has done, the great majority of shippers are obviously of the opinion that it has prevented much evil which would otherwise have gone unchecked. In concluding his sketch of the English railroad legislation, Mr. Hadley shows that the system of special rates to develop business has grown up in the same way as in America; that the chief source of public complaint is not extortionate rates, but different rates; that the low through rates are occasioned by the competition of water routes, which has existed at three-fifths of the stations in the United Kingdom; that the railroads have been obtaining control of the canals, and even of the open water routes in some cases, by securing possession of the landing places and harbor facilities, but are unable to control the water routes between London and foreign countries ; that while the courts have suc- ceeded in almost entirely stopping discriminations between individuals, personal favoritism, and the payment of rebates, the discriminations against localities and certain lines of business have become more con- spicuous; and he sums up the present state of things, as follows: (1) The roads may make what special rates they please; but if they make a rate to one man they must extend the same privilege to all others in like circumstances. If they have been secretly paying rebates to one shipper, they may be compelled to refund to any other shipper similarly placed the same rebates on all his shipments since the special contract with the one shipper began. (2) It is held by the railway commissioners that two shippers are similarly placed and must be similarly treated when the cost to the railroad of handling the goods for one is the same as for the other; and, conversely, unless some special reason can be shown, the railroad has no SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 67 right to put a less favorably situated shipper on an equality with a more favorably situated one. (3) But the last Parliamentary committee has refused to indorse these principles, and has said that a preference is not unjust so long as it is the natural result of fair competition. THE NECESSITY OF NATIONAL REGULATION OF INTERSTATE COMMERCE The two propositions which the committee has kept prominently in view throughout the entire investigation have been whether any legis- lation for the regulation of interstate transportation is necessary or expedient, and, if so, in what manner can the public interest be best - subserved by legislation on that subject. The consideration of the first proposition may seem to be a work of supererogation, for it is the deliberate judgment of the committee that upon no public question are the people so nearly unanimous as upon the proposition that Congress should undertake in some way the regula- tion of interstate commerce. Omitting those who speak for the railroad interests, there is practically no difference of opinion as to the necessity and importance of such action by Congress, and this is fully substanti- ated by the testimony accompanying this report, which is a fair con- census of public sentiment upon the question. The committee has found among the leading representatives of the railroad interests an increasing readiness to accept the aid of Congress in working out the solution of the railroad problem which has obstinately baffled all their efforts, and not a few of the ablest railroad men in the country seem disposed to look to the intervention of Congress as promising to afford the best means of ultimately securing a more equitable and satisfactory adjust- ment of the relations of the transportation interests to the community than they themselves have been able to bring about. The evidence upon this point is so conclusive that the committee has no hesitation in declaring that prompt action by Congress upon this important subject is almost unanimously demanded by public sentiment. This demand is occasioned by the existence of acknowledged evils incident to and growing out of the complicated business of transporta- tion as now conducted, evils which the people believe can be checked and mitigated, if not wholly remedied, by appropriate legislation. The committee recognizes the justice of this demand, and believes that action by Congress looking to the regulation of interstate transportation is necessary and expedient, for the following reasons: 1. The public interest demands regulation of the business of 68 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS transportation because, in the absence of such regulation, the carrier is practically and actually the sole and final arbiter upon all disputed ques- tions that arise between shipper and carrier as to whether rates are rea- sonable or unjust discrimination has been practiced. It is argued by railroad representatives that arbitrary or oppressive rates cannot be maintained ; that they are adjusted and sufficiently regu- lated by competition with rival roads and with water routes, by com- mercial necessities, by the natural laws of trade, and by that self-interest which compels the corporations to have due regard to the wants and the opinions of those upon whom they must depend for business; that such discriminations as exist are for the most part unavoidable; that the owners and managers of the property are the best judges of the con- ditions and circumstances that affect the cost of transportation and should determine the compensation they are entitled to receive ; and that, in any event, the common law affords the shipper an adequate remedy and protection against abuse or any infringement of his rights. This answer fails to recognize the public nature and obligations of the carrier, and the right of the people, through the Governmental authority, to have a voice in the management of a corporation which performs a public function. Nor do the facts warrant the claim that competition and self-interest can be relied upon to secure the shipper against abuse and unjust discrimination, or that he has an available and satisfactory remedy at common law. If it is found that the common law and the courts do not, in fact, afford to the shipper an effective remedy for his grievances, we have no need to inquire to what extent grievances may exist. The complicated nature of countless transactions incident to the business of transporta- tion make it inevitable that disagreements should arise between the parties in interest, and it is neither just nor proper that disputed ques- tions materially affecting the business operations of a shipper should be left to the final determination of those representing an opposing financial interest. When such disagreements occur the shipper and the carrier are alike entitled to a fair and impartial determination of the matters at issue, and by all the principles governing judicial proceedings the most fair-minded railroad official is disqualified by his personal interest in the result from giving such a determination. If, however, there existed an impartial tribunal to which the shipper could readily appeal, he would find less occasion for appealing from the decision of the carrier, and the differences between shipper and carrier would be more likely to be adjusted amicably without such an appeal. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 69 The simple fact that the shipper is now obliged to submit to the adjudication of his complaint by the other party in interest, the party by whom he supposes himself to have been aggrieved, is in itself suffi- cient to demonstrate the necessity of such legislation as will secure to the shipper that impartial hearing of his complaints to which he is entitled by all the recognized principles of justice and equity. Evidence is not wanting to prove that the remedy at common law is impracticable and of little advantage to the ordinary shipper. It has been found so by the people of the States in dealing with their local traffic, and, as has been shown, their recognition of the fact has been authoritatively recorded in nearly every State in the Union by statutory ~ enactments, and in many of them by the establishment of commissions, in the effort to provide for the shipper that prompt and effective remedy which it has been found by experience that recourse to the common law has failed to afford. The reasons for this failure apply with even greater force to the more complicated transactions of interstate com- merce than to State traffic, because the former involve more perplexing questions and are affected by a greater diversity of varying conditions. The legislation of the States, the reports of the State commissions, the records of the courts, the evidence of shippers, and, in short, the whole current of testimony, is to the same effect; and the fact stated is also admitted by some of the highest railroad authorities. Mr. Fink says: In many cases where small amounts are involved, which do not justify legal proceedings against the company, the aggrieved parties are prevented from prosecuting their claims. * * * Ordinary courts are not properly constituted for that purpose, and the time required for the adjudication of claims is so long and the expense so great as to _ defeat the very object for which proceedings are instituted. Leaving out of consideration the natural disinclination of the aver- age shipper to engage in litigation with a corporation which may have the power to determine his success or failure in business, and to enter the lists against an adversary with ample resources and the best legal talent at its command and able to wear out an opponent by the tedious delays of the law, it is plain that the shipper is still at a great disad- vantage in seeking redress for grievances under the common law, which places upon the complainant the burden of proof and requires him to affirmatively establish the unreasonableness of a given rate or the fact of an alleged discrimination. What such an undertaking practically involves is indicated by the following extract from the statement of Mr. Kernan, the chairman of the New York commission, which sums up the whole case: 70 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS Assuredly there have been and do exist unreasonable rates and un- just discriminations. This much will be admitted by all; it will not be denied even by any carrier. Why, then, have not the courts enjoined the continuance of the wrongs and enforced the payment of damages? Why, again, is it that substantially no suits ever have been brought and that so few decisions in this country exist? It is not because of defects in the law or in the constitution of the courts, but it is because the subject is one which neither client nor lawyer, judge nor jury, can unravel or deal with intelligently within the compass of an ordinary trial and with such knowledge of the matter as men generally well educated possess. Let a man take the testimony in five volumes before the Hepburn committee; read one hundred pages of the clear and able statements of Mr. Bianch- ard, for instance; con over the facts and figures he gives, and then let him try to reach a conclusion upon the question under discussion. Some conception will thus be obtained of what a lawsuit is which involves the reasonableness of rates, or the existence of an unjust discrimination, or a local rate as compared with a through rate. As the onus is upon the complainant, add to his difficulties the fact that his adversary has nearly all the evidence in his possession, locked up in books and in the memory and intelligence of experts who have made the subject their study. The expense involved, the uncertainty to be faced, and the difficulties to be overcome in an ordinary suit at law have made that remedy obsolete and useless. All these considerations, fully corroborated as they are by the evi- dence submitted, have satisfied the committee that the common law wholly fails to afford an effective remedy against unreasonable or dis- criminating rates, and that, without additional legislation, the carrier is practically the sole and only judge of the rights of the producer and shipper in respect to transportation. 2. It is the duty of Congress to undertake the regulation of the business of transportation, because of admitted abuses in its manage- ment and of acknowledged discriminations between persons and places in its practical operation—evils which it is possible to reach and remedy only through the exercise of the powers granted by the Constitution to Congress, and against which the citizen is entitled to the protection and relief the national authority can alone afford. Attention will be called hereafter to these causes of complaint; and it is perhaps only necessary to suggest here that the railroad argument against legislation on the ground that competition, the laws of trade, and an “enlightened self-interest” afford all needful protection and the most effective regulation, is predicated upon the conditions which pre- vail at the great commercial centers and in favored localities where competition is most active, and applies more particularly to the larger shippers, who are always able to take care of themselves and at such SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 71 points can usually depend for protection and fair treatment upon the eagerness of the corporations to capture all the business possible. But it should be the aim of the law to protect the weak, and it is at the great number of non-competitive interior points, scattered all over the land, at which even the protection elsewhere afforded by competitive influences is not found, and where the producer and shipper are most completely in the power of the railroads, that additional safeguards are most needed. 3. National legislation is necessary to remedy the evils com- plained of, because the operations of the transportation system are, for the most part, beyond the jurisdiction of the States, and, until Congress acts, not subject to any governmental control in the public interest. The States have no power to regulate interstate commerce, and it appears from the evidence that even their control of their own domestic traffic is restricted and frequently made inoperative by reason of its intimate intermingling with interstate commerce and by the present freedom of the latter from any legislative restrictions. Some of the © difficulties of effective State regulation in the absence of national legis- lation have been pointed out elsewhere in this report, and illustrations have been given of the greater volume and importance of interstate as compared with State traffic. National supervision would supplement, give direction to, and render effective State supervision, and is espe- cially necessary as the only method of securing that uniformity of regu- lation and operation which the transportation system requires for its highest development. The clearly-established fact that, by reason of the constitutional division of powers between the States and the General Government, the _States have been able only to partially control the business of trans- portation within their own borders has been the principal inciting cause of the popular demand for national regulation, and is sufficient, in the judgment of the committee, to call for such action by Congress as will make effective the means of regulation found necessary and adopted by the States. 4. National legislation is also necessary, because the business of transportation is essentially of a nature which requires that uniform system and method of regulation which the national authority can alone prescribe. The key-note to all the decisions of the United States Supreme Court concerning the power to regulate commerce is found in the declaration made in Cooley v. Board of Wardens, and frequently 72 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS referred to in other cases, that ‘whatever subjects of this power are in their nature national, or admit only of one uniform system or plan of regulation, may justly be said to be of such a nature as to require exclu- sive legislation by Congress ;’’ and, as is said by the court in the late case of Gloucester Ferry Company v. Pennsylvania, “it needs no argu- ment to show that the commerce with foreign nations and between the States, which consists in the transportation of persons and property between them, is a subject of national character, and requires uniformity of regulation. Congress alone, therefore, can deal with such transporta- tion.” 5. The failure of Congress to act is an excuse for the attempts made by the railroads to regulate the commerce of the country in their own way and in their own interests by whatever combinations and methods they are able to put into operation. Through the absence of national legislation the railroads of the United States have been left to work out their own salvation. The practical results of their efforts have been by no means encouraging, as the present depressed condition of the railway interests bears witness, nor do they claim to have made any substantial progress during the past fifteen or twenty years. It is true that in this period the railroads have accomplished wonders in reducing the cost of transportation, in remov- ing the limitations of distance from trade between remote localities, and in buildirig up and widely extending the general commerce of the coun- try. But, notwithstanding all these marvelous achievements, for which due credit should be given, the solid fact still claims consideration, that the inequalities and discriminations which characterize the operations of the system in its entirety are now as pronounced as in the earlier stages of its development. In the recognized existence of these evils and in the failure of the national authority to offer any remedy, railroad managers have found their justification for seeking a remedy through methods which have not commended themselves to the public judgment and which have threatened even greater dangers to the body-politic. In the absence of national legislation, the railroads have naturally resorted to the only methods by which they could unaided secure any degree of stability and uniformity in their charges—consolidations and confederation. The final outcome of continued consolidation would be the creation of an organization more powerful than the Government itself and perhaps be- yond its control. The same result might follow the successful develop- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 73 ment of the policy of confederation or pooling, if unrestricted by Gov- ernmental supervision, and either would be inimical to the public inter- est. But while this would be the logical outcome of the existing tendency of railway organization and management, there are satisfactory reasons for believing that it will not be the actual result, and that this policy has substantially reached the limit to which it can be carried. In a sense it may be true that the railroad properties of the country are to-day largely within the control of a comparatively small circle, yet the colos- sal combinations which have been effected find other gigantic combina- tions equally as powerful successfully contending for the traffic of the territory they seek to control. The vast geographical extent of the country, its immense resources, the diverse interests of different sec- tions, the abundance of capital, the commanding influence and the enter- prise of the great commercial centers, the impossibility of controlling 35,000 miles of free water-routes—all these considerations lessen the dangers to be apprehended from future consolidations and combinations, and at the same time show how difficult it will be for the railroads to work out the problem alone and unaided. Experience and investigation have up to this time failed to indicate how the inequalities and discriminations complained of, which have grown into and become a fundamental part of the system upon which the business of the entire country is conducted, are to be done away with without a serious disturbance of every individual and public busi- ness interest. To equalize through and local rates, and to give them that degree of uniformity and stability so greatly needed, must neces- sarily involve a complete readjustment and reconstruction of the com- mercial relations and business methods of the whole country. How this is to be accomplished is the secret which underlies the satisfactory solu- tion of the railroad problem. That a problem of such magnitude, importance, and intricacy can be summarily solved by any master-stroke of legislative wisdom is beyond the bounds of reasonable belief. That the railroads, unaided or unrestrained, can or will eventually work out its solution seems highly improbable, judging from past experience, and cannot reasonably be expected. That a satisfactory solution of the problem can ever be secured without the aid of wise legislation the committee does not believe. 74 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS THE CAUSES OF COMPLAINT AGAINST THE RAILROAD SYSTEM. The complaints against the railroad system of the United States expressed to the committee are based upon the following charges: 1. That local rates are unreasonably high, compared with through rates. 2. That both local and through rates are unreasonably high at non-competing points, either from the absence of competition or in con- sequence of pooling agreements that restrict its operation. 3. That rates are established without apparent regard to the actual cost of the service performed, and are based largely on “what the traffic will bear.” 4. That unjustifiable discriminations are constantly made between individuals in the rates charged for like service under similar circum- stances. 5. That improper discriminations are constantly made between articles of freight and branches of business of a like character, and between different quantities of the same class of freight. 6. That unreasonable discriminations are made between localities similarly situated. 7. That the effect of the prevailing policy of railroad management is by an elaborate system of secret special rates, rebates, drawbacks, and concessions, to foster monopoly, to enrich favored shippers, and to pre- vent free competition in many lines of trade in which the item of trans- portation is an important factor. 8. That such favoritism and secrecy introduce an element of un- certainty into legitimate business that greatly retards the development of our industries and commerce. 9. That the secret cutting of rates and the sudden fluctuations that constantly take place are demoralizing to all business except that of a purely speculative character, and frequently occasion great injustice and heavy losses. 10. That, in the absence of national and uniform legislation, the railroads are able by various devices to avoid their responsibility as car- riers, especially on shipments over more than one road, or from one State to another, and that shippers find great difficulty in recovering damages for the loss of property or for injury thereto. . 1. That railroads refuse to be bound by their own contracts, and arbitrarily collect large sums in the shape of overcharges in addition to the rates agreed upon at the time of shipment. 12. That railroads often refuse to recognize or be responsible for the acts of dishonest agents acting under their authority. 13. That the common law fails to afford a remedy for such griev- ances, and that in cases of dispute the shipper is compelled to submit to the decision of the railroad manager or pool commissioner, or run the risk of incurring further losses by greater discriminations. 14. ‘That the differences in the classifications in use in various parts of the country, and sometimes for shipments over the same roads in different directions, are a fruitful source of misunderstandings, and are often made a means of extortion. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 15 15. That a privileged class is created by the granting of passes, and that the cost of the passenger service is largely increased by the extent of this abuse. 16. That the capitalization and bonded Hee hnedness of the roads largely exceed the actual cost of their construction or their present value, and that unreasonable rates are charged in the effort to pay divi- dends on watered stock and interest on bonds improperly issued. 17. That railroad corporations have improperly engaged in lines of business entirely distinct from that of transportation, and that undue advantages have been afforded to business enterprises in which railroad officials were interested. 18. That the management of railroad business is extravagant and wasteful, and that a needless tax is imposed upon the shipping and trav- eling public by the unnecessary expenditure of large sums in the main- tenance of a costly force of agents engaged in a reckless strife for competitive business. THE ESSENCE OF THE COMPLAINTS It will be observed that the most important, and in fact nearly all, of the foregoing complaints are based upon the practice of discrimina- tion in one form or another. This is the principal cause of complaint against the management and operation of the transportation system of the United States, and gives rise to the question of greatest difficulty in the regulation of interstate commerce. It is substantially agreed by all parties in interest that the great desideratum is to secure equality, so far as practicable, in the facilities for transportation afforded and the rates charged by the instrumentali- ties of commerce. The burden of complaint is against unfair differences in these particulars as between different places, persons, and commodi- ties, and its essence is that these differences are unjust in comparison with the rates allowed or facilities afforded to other persons and places for a like service under similar circumstances. The first question to be determined, apparently, is whether the inequalities complained of and admitted to exist are inevitable, or whether they are entirely the result of arbitrary and unnecessary dis- crimination on the part of the common carriers of the country; and the consideration of this question suggests an inquiry as to the proper basis upon which rates of transportation should be established. 16 A COMPARISON OF MUNICIPAL AND PRIVATE OWNERSHIP BY THE COMMISSIONER OF LABOR, 1894 As stated in the preface, this report is designed to bring out the essential facts relating to private and municipal ownership of water- works, gas works, and electric-light plants. By private ownership is meant ownership by individuals, companies, or private corporations, and by private plants is meant plants owned, controlled, and operated by such individuals, companies, or corporations. By municipal owner- ship is meant ownership by cities, towns, villages, etc., and by munici- pal plants is meant plants owned, controlled, and operated for the public account by such public corporations. It has not been intended to fur- nish the means whereby the details of business and the results of the operation of specific plants could be identified and any use made of such knowledge that might be prejudicial to the interests of such plants. It has rather been the intention of the Department to secure the fullest possible information in regard to the business and production of as large a number of such plants as could be canvassed in a reasonable time, aiming always to cover representative plants, and in a sufficient num- ber to afford a reliable representation of the varying conditions found in these public utilities, both under private and under municipal own- ership and control. The agitation of the subject of private and munici- pal ownership during the last few years quite naturally rendered the task of securing data from private corporations difficult. It was found necessary early in the investigation to make the specific statement that the names of plants would not be published in connection with the data furnished, or the city, town, or State in which located. Without this pledge by the Department the investigation could not have been prose- cuted successfully, inasmuch as the greatest objection was constantly encountered to furnishing the details of private business if they were to be presented in such a manner as to enable particular plants to be iden- tified. With this pledge it was found possible to secure reports from SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 17 quite a large proportion of the private water, gas, and electric-light plants in the United States, both large and small, thus furnishing data representative of every condition for purposes of comparison with simi- lar plants operating under municipal ownership. It will readily be seen that for the purpose of statistical comparison the names and loca- tion of plants would add but little to the value of the figures given, while with the omission of such means of identification reliable figures could be secured relating to plants under private or corporate ownership and control. As has been intimated, not all of the plants in the United States have been covered by the investigation. The Department pursued its usual course in the collection of the data, sending its special agents to the various plants throughout the country, and securing the data by their personal inspection of the plants and of the details of their busi- ness, the various facts being taken directly from the records of the plants so far as such were in existence. At the beginning of the inves- tigation it was realized that it would be impossible to make a canvass of all of the plants in the country with the limited force at the disposal of the Department and present the facts while comparatively fresh. It was therefore determined to cover as great a number of the plants as possible within the time which could be devoted to the work. In no cases have leased plants, or plants established in factories, etc., for the sole use of the owner, been included. Quite a large proportion of both _ the private and municipal plants were canvassed, and it is believed that the data presented in the tables are fairly representative of the varying conditions found throughout the country. The following table shows the total number of water, gas, and electric-light plants, private and municipal, in the United States, so far as could be ascertained; the number for which schedules were secured and which form the basis for this report; the total investment and the value of product in municipal water, gas, and electric-light plants in the United States, and the total investment and the value of product in the plants, both private and municipal, which are included in this report: 78 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS NUMBER OF, TOTAL INVESTMENT IN, AND VALUE OF PRODUCT IN, WATER, GAS, AND ELECTRIC-LIGHT PLANTS IN THE UNITED STATES. Waterworks. Gas works. Electric-light plants, Private, |Municipal.| Private. |Municipal.| Private. |Municipal. NC ee | Number in the United States eer sei, : aye ag ; Sed Bh Number includedin this ay th 9 4 5 4 report, eeoeer Oe aeee se rereer 6 6 Ir 6 2 ae Per cent included in this ein 99 35 3 3 TOPOL Wai iuuiiasteeieia ales 24.37 36.88 37.43 "8.57 haley baa Total investment in all plants in the United States... 0... ...6 ese +++-| $267, 752,468] $513,852,568] $330,346,274| $ 1,918,120) $265,181,920| $ 12,902,677 Total investment in plants included in this TEPORC occ cents y aeeeenee $116,710,833] 463,574,312] 152,669,792 1,395,373} 113,917,815] 10,908,929 Percent of total invest- ment represented b plants included in this LEDOLL Gwe eelse lee tievelaiee 43.59 90.22 46,22 72.75 42.96 84.55 Value of product in all ; plants in the United States.. ..... sees sees es e+ |B 25,665,669] $ 45,506,130) $ 73,446,133] $ 487,3551 $ 56,490,652) $ 3,531,605 Value of product in plants included in this TEPOLE cinta inte leer ate wens $ 11,416,186} 42,508,490] 33,938,262 431,672} 24,267,460 2,909, 199 Per cent of total value of product represented by plants included in this TEDOTEC ee ene cucicecnerer 44.48 93-41 46.21 88.57 42.96 82.38 Of the 3,326 waterworks in the United States it was found that 46.27 per cent were owned and operated by private individuals, firms, and corporations, while 53.73 per cent were owned and operated by the cities, towns, and villages in which they were located; of the 965 gas works, 98.55 per cent were owned privately, while but 1.45 per cent were municipally owned; and of the 3,032 electric-light plants, 84.83 per cent were private and 15.17 per cent were municipal. As will be seen, this report covers 24.37 per cent of the private waterworks in the United States and 36.88 per cent of those under municipal ownership and control; 37.43 per cent of the private and 78.57 per cent of the municipal gas works, and 24.57 per cent of the private and 69.57 per cent of the municipal electric-light plants. Of the 1,539 privately owned waterworks, about 32 per cent were located in towns or villages which had less than 1,000 population at the census of 1890, while about 25 per cent of the 1,787 municipally owned plants were so located. Of the 951 privately owned gas works, about one-third of I per cent were located in towns and villages which had less than 1,000 population at the census of 1890, while of the municipally owned plants none were so located. So far as the electric-light plants are concerned, about 9 per cent of the 2,572 privately owned plants were located in towns and villages which had less than 1,000 population at the census of 1890, while about 9 per cent of the 460 municipally owned plants were so SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 79 located. About one-fourth of all the waterworks in the United States are located in small towns and villages, while a very small proportion of the gas works and about one-tenth of the electric-light plants are so located. Inquiry was made in regard to the waterworks located in these small towns and villages, and as a rule they were found to be of an unimportant and inexpensive character and were established largely for purposes of fire protection. No plants, water, gas, or electric-light, which are located in towns and villages which had less than 1,000 pop- ulation at the census of 1890 have been included in the tables which are given in this report. | The table also furnishes a very close estimate of the total amount invested in municipal plants in the United States, based on returns directly from the plants. The municipal waterworks for which full data are included in this report represent 90.22 per cent of the total investment in such municipal works in the United States, the munici- pal gas works represent 72.75 per cent, and the municipal electric- light plants represent 84.55 per cent. So far as private works are concerned it was found necessary to secure this estimate as to total investment from various sources. Nevertheless, it is thought to be fairly accurate and shows that the private waterworks for which full data are included in this report represent 43.59 per cent of the total investment in such private works in the United States, that the pri- vate gas works represent 46.22 per cent, and that the private electric- light plants represent 42.96 per cent. In this connection it should be stated that the figures given as the investment represent the actual cost of the plants and the amounts expended on the same for extensions and betterments up to the end of the fiscal year for which reports were made. This table also shows the value of the product during the fiscal year of the plants included in the report and an estimate of the total value of product for the year in all plants in the United States. From this it appears that 75.77 per cent of the total value of water, 46.49 per cent of the total value of gas, and 45.28 per cent of the total value of electricity produced by the whole number of the plants in the United States was produced by the plants for which full details are given in this report. The year covered is usually a fiscal year ending in 1898, although for some plants the year ends as far back as 1897. This is due to the necessary length of time which was devoted to the canvass by the agents of the Department, as the data were in every case secured cover- 80 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS > ing the business of the last year for which complete information could be had at the time of the visit of the agent to the plant. WATER WORKS SALARIES AND WAGES As is seen by reference to Table VI, separate figures for salaries and wages have not been secured for all of the 1,034 plants covered, a portion or all of the wage cost being included in salaries in some plants and vice versa. For 326 private plants and 561 municipal plants, how- ever, the accounts were kept separately and accurate data were obtained. The short table which follows is based on the plants reporting separately as to the cost of salaries and wages during their last fiscal year, and shows, for each of the groups adopted in the general tables, the average cost of salaries and wages per 1,000,000 gallons of water furnished for both private and public consumption. AVERAGE COST OF SALARIES AND WAGES PER 1,000,000 GALLONS OF WATER FURNISHED. Private plants. Municipal plants. Average cost Average cost : _ | per 1,000,000 ‘s €r 1,000,000 Water furnished (gallons), Meroe gallons. Fell wach P pallonas port- Bes Lae ; ort- ; ing, ala- in Sala- Hes Wages g ties, | Wages Ui CTIINO00 000 Scie sas ojscisicinsisilemmic tive sie aivcie ase iay cine’ te/einlai| ao eM sioelhie. eee eer I | $34.25 | $821.92 ¥,000,000 anid Tinder. 5,000,000, 05. sensise vote epee es cn 3 | $31.07 | $41.26 17 | 36.72 | 120.63 5,000,000 and UNEF 10,000,000...... 26. sece cece ree: 7 NS LaL Sn Sg 20s 22) 25.07 56.51 10,000,000 and undeF 15,000,000, .... -seeee cere cecees up ihe reweey i) Pkeeeis 29 14.40 39.70 15,000,000 and UNndeF 20,000,000,...... 222s cece cers 9 TOy3a) | enG7s La 36 16.58 31.99 20,000,000 ANd UNGEFL 25,000,000, .....eeeeeeceecceese 8 | 19.99 | 43.83 22 112.42 23.19 25,000,000 ANd UNAEF 50,000,000, .... 2. ceceee cece cece 40} 16.41 | 16.61 90 | 10.18 18.49 50,000,000 and UNdEF 75,000,000... ..eeeeeeeeeeeee- 23) Wet ieod ter s25 46 6.12 13.70 75,000,000 and Under 100,000,000,, ....ssseeeeseeeeee 22)| ei2. Si 11.96 2I 10.94 15.14 100,000,000 and under 125,000,000... ..sseeeeeeeces 18 | 11.12 9.52 22 4.91 12.00 125,000,000 and UNAEF 150,000,000... ....ee eee ee eens 7] 8.75 8.63 20 7.01 8.96 150,000,000 ANd UNCEF 175,000,000. .... seeeeseeee eres 14 | 10.22 7.97 5 3.00 4.60 175,000,000 ANG UNAEL 200,000,000... eee ee eeeeceeseees Si Aa ES 7S XO), 27 II 4.50 6.67 200,000,000 and UNE 250,000,000. ..-- +--+ eeeeeeeeee 22 8.63 9.22 12 7 66 8.38 250,000,000 aNd UNCEF 500,000,000... 4-22 seer rere cees 45 5.93 6.49 53 4.54 6.16 500,000,000 and under 750,000,000.........eeeeeeeee: 30 5.14 4.78 37 4.03 8.42 750,000,000 and UNE 1,000,000,000......605 sss eee 14 4.43 4.40 20 ta 5.60 1,000,000,000 and under 5,000,000,000..... +. seee-ee- 30 3.90 3.89 77 2.57 4.92 5,000,000,000 and under 10,000,000,000......++-+eee- 4 7.03 6.59 6 1.57 5.07 I0,000,000,000 OF OVET... 0. cece cee ces cee ee cnes eee erteseeces Site ances 13 1.87 3.74 The first two groups in the above table are made up of plants fur- nishing less than 5,000,000 gallons of water per year, and, as will be found later on, the municipal plants in these groups have little if any revenue from the sale of water to private users, being maintained SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 81 mainly for fire protection. As a consequence the salary and wage cost per 1,000,000 gallons as well as all other costs must necessarily be large. For this reason it may be well to exclude at least these two groups from consideration in using this table. Beginning with the group of plants furnishing 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000 gallons per year, it is seen that so far as salaries are concerned the average cost in the private plants is in excess of the average in the municipal plants, and in the next group this is also true, this cost in the private plants being almost three times that in the municipal plants. In the next group the average sal- ary cost is almost the same in both kinds of plants, while in the remain- ing fourteen groups containing private plants this cost is larger in the private plants than in those under municipal ownership and control. As regards wage cost it is seen that in the group of plants furnishing 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000 gallons per year the average cost in the municipal plants exceeds that in the private plants, while in each of the next three groups this cost in the private plants is larger than in those municipally owned. in each of the next five groups, however, the aver- age wage cost per 1,000,000 gallons during the year is larger in the municipal plants than in the private, while in each of the next four it is smaller. In each of the next three groups this average wage cost is smaller in the private plants, while in the last group affording com- parison it is considerably smaller in the six municipal plants entering into the average than in the four private plants in this group. Cost oF PRODUCTION In this connection it has been deemed advisable to summarize the results as to cost of production and, accordingly, a table has been made, showing, for the private and municipal plants falling under each of the groups used in the general tables, the average cost of production during the year per 1,000 gallons of water furnished for private and public con- sumption. In order that these two classes of plants may be placed on the same basis in this table, two columns showing cost have been made for the plants under private or corporate ownership and control and two for those under municipal ownership and control. The first of these columns shows the average cost of production excluding depreciation, taxes, and interest on the total investment (cost of plant). Deprecia- tion is to some extent a theoretical element, and for this reason some may wish to see the figures with this element excluded; taxes have X. 6, 82 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS been excluded in the case of private plants and in the few cases where they appear as an actual charge in municipal plants, because taxes are not usually a cost in municipal plants; while interest on the total investment is excluded because of the fact that private or corporate owners do not usually borrow the funds for the investment and pay interest on the same, as is done by municipalities, but issue and sell stock for this purpose. Bonds, it is true, are also sometimes issued by private plants, and in such cases there is a regular interest charge; but the practice is far from uniform. With these elements eliminated in both classes of plants, only the actual costs for administration, labor, supplies, and repairs and renewals are taken into consideration. The second column showing cost for each of the two classes of plants, on the other hand, includes depreciation, taxes, and interest on the total | investment (cost of works). Interest has in all cases been estimated at the rate paid by the city on its last issue of bonds. Private and municipal plants are thus put upon the same basis. The assumption of this rate as applied to private plants is justified by the probability that the municipality could raise funds for the establishment of such a plant at the rate paid upon its last issue of bonds, and that therefore for a fair comparison the same rate should be used for both classes of plants. Some private plants, it is true, will be found paying interest charges in excess of this estimate, because of the fact that bonds have been issued at a higher rate of interest or in excess of the cost of the plant. In the case of municipal plants the question may be raised as to why taxes are here shown. It is well understood that municipal plants seldom pay taxes, but in order to furnish a fair basis for com- parison estimates have been inserted representing the taxes that would have been collected from these plants had they been owned by private individuals or corporations. It will be seen at once that plants owned and operated by municipalities take the place of just so much private property from which taxes would be received to the amount estimated, the ownership on the part of cities involving a definite decrease in the amount of taxable property. The estimates are based on the judgment of the local assessors as to the assessed value of the plants considered. The table giving the average cost of production per 1,000 gallons of water furnished, for both private and municipal plants, follows. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 83 AVERAGE COST OF PRODUCTION PER 1,000 GALLONS OF WATER FURNISHED, Private plants. Municipal plauts. Average cost of produc- lAverage cost of produc- tion per I,ooo gallons, tion per 1,000 gallons, Water furnished (gall Num-| #xctuding | cluding |Num- paoucine gallons). ber | de ae deprecia- | ber | Excluding! deprecia- re- ve pies tion, re- | deprecia- tion, port-ltaxes. anda|t2=es, and! port- tion estimated ing. interest on estimated ing, | and inter-| taxes, in- totalin- |iuterest on est on total) terest on vestinent total in- investment/|total invest *| vestment, ment, etc. MASEL OOO 000s in. sak ew fslasde sean awed Ute lice Pee tee ee aM) ee Gene 5 $1.0574 $2.3908 1,000,000 and under 5,000,000 ........... 5 $0. 1464 $0. 6928 35 . 2988 .8789 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000.,........ 12 a .4966 .1§0 .44°6 535 4 35 593 44 10,000,000 and under 15,000,000,........ 12 .1382 .4092 45 1158 +3050 15,000,000 and under 20,000,000......... Io .0962 .3066 41 .1018 .2636 20,000,000 and under 25,000,000,........ 12 . 1020 .2471 26 .0848 +2911 25,000,000 and under 50,000,000,........ 50 -0585 -1874 | 105 .0606 -1754 50,000,000 and under 75,000,000,........ 44 0434 1375 52 0423 .1180 75,000,000 and under 100,000,000........ 26 .O511 .1§20 24 .0461 DUP 100,000,000 and under 125,000,000,...... 20 .0368 - 1084 23 .0342 .10I5 125,000,000 and under 150,000,000....... 9 -0377 .1285 22 -O38I | 1 -1265 150,000,000 and under 175,000,000,,.... 14 .0408 .1108 6 .0164 -0879 175,000,000 and under 200,000,000,....., 8 .0470 1339 12 .0254 .0845 200,000,000 and under 250,000,000,...... 23 .0363 1165 15 .0269 .1046 250,000,000 and under 500,000,000...... 51 -0251 .0796 58 .0227 -0858 500,000,000 and under 750,000,000,..... 30 .0206 .0762 38 .0252 .0902 750,000,000 and under 1,000,000,000.,... 14 .O194 0672 20 .0195 -0745 I,000,000,000 and under 5,000,000,000.... 30 .0176 .0651 78 20175 .0639 5,000,000,000 and under 10,000,000,000.. 4 ,0291 .1163 6 .O107 .0444 SOOO OO0, 000 OLOVET et cc's ini sie siseicisie ciel |tisieciee |is ae eu 'cinie'sie's 2 | oj siv eis sisicreia ei 13 »0167 .0476 Taking up first the comparison of these groups exclusive of depre- ciation, taxes, and interest on the total investment and dropping from consideration the first two groups for the reasons stated in the text in connection with the short table preceding relating to cost of salaries and wages, it is seen that in the group of plants furnishing 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000 gallons of water during the year, as well as in the group following, the average cost was greater in the private plants than in the municipal, while in the next group the opposite is true. In the sixth group the cost was greater in the private plants, while in the following group the result was again reversed. In the next eight groups, with one exception, the cost was greater in the private plants, in the group following it was greater in the municipal plants, while in the next two groups it was practically the same in both classes of plants. In the last group having private plants the average cost of production exclusive of the elements mentioned above was $0.0291 per 1,000 gal- lons in the four private plants and $0.0107 in the six municipal plants, or more than two and one-half times as great in the private as in the municipal plants. Taking up the two columns showing the average cost of production per 1,000 gallons during the year in private and municipal plants includ- | Bt SOCIAL MOVEMENTS ing depreciation, taxes, and interest on the total investment, it is seen that, beginning with the group of plants furnishing 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000 gallons of water during the year, the first twelve groups, with one exception, show a greater cost in the private plants than in those under municipal ownership and control, while the next three groups show a cost in the municipal plants in excess of that in the pri- vate plants. In the last two groups in which comparison can be made the cost in the private plants exceeds that in the municipal, this excess in the case of the last group being quite large. A short table showing the range of costs in the iast five groups of ‘the preceding table has also been prepared. This table follows and sshows the lowest and highest, as well as the average cost, in each class of plants (private and municipal) in each of the five groups which con- tain plants having the largest production. LOWEST, HIGHEST, AND AVERAGE COST OF PRODUCTION PER 1,000 GALLONS OF WATER FURNISHED IN FIVE GROUPS OF PLANTS, Private plants, Lowest, highest, and average cost of produc- tion per 1,000 gallons. Water furnished (gallons), Number.| Excluding deprecia- | Including deprecia- tion, taxes, and inter-) tion, taxes, and esti- est on total invest- |mated interest on total ment. investment. 500,000, ooo and under 750,000,000. UY Ae 30 | §0.0052-$0.0398-$0.0206 |$o. seit 1890- $0.0762 750,000,000 and under 1,000,000 000. Sie iane Wels 14 .0096- .0264- .0194 .1235- .0672 Z,000,00u,000 and under 5,000,000,000,....... 30 .0029- .0379- .0176 Rien .I509- pee 5,000,000,000 and ander Io Sian SOOO aie 4 .0049- .0448- .0291 .0247— .1886- .1163 ZOD5O.GOO O00 OF OVET ML Uisies Ulloa veevelsadbedeiae Li oed cddmamanbateauneys.Gi espa wena als sleeiaiten Municipal plants, Lowest, Bisneets and average cost of produc- tion per 1,000 gallons, “Water furnished (gallons). Number.| yexeluding deprecia- lyon estimated taxes, total investment, pagar hn pe: in- '5G0,000,000 and under 750,000,000.........+- 38 $0 .0057-$0.0675-$0.0252 |$o. allay 3354- $o.0902 “759,000,000 and under 1,000,000,000.....:.. ,0078- .O5II- .0195 0265- .2142= .0745 £,000,000,000 and under 5,000,000,000,, oa siel 3 .0028- .0370- .0175 ‘or7I- .2627- .0639 ‘000,000,000 and ee Io latent AAR 6 .0044- .0163- .O0I07 -OI30- .072Q0- .0444 5¥O,000;000;000 OF OVELD i cajeciacesiesiccuisnsiss/sis 13 .0084= .0363~- .0167 .0262- .1265- .0476 As regards actual prices—those based on the total quantity of water ‘sold and the total income from the same—it may be interesting to exam- ‘ine the short table which follows. This table shows the average price -received per 1,000 gallons for all water sold by private and municipal ‘plants, classified according to the groups adopted in the general tables. “The cost of production is not considered here, and for this reason the SOCIAL MOVEMENTS oo water furnished by municipal plants for public use is not included. The results have been found by using simply the absolute figures as to the quantity of water soid by each of the two classes of plants, and the income derived from such sale. AVERAGE PRICE PER 1,000 GALLONS OF WATER SOLD, Private plants, Municipal plants. y Average Average Water furnished (gallons), price price Number, | per1,ooo | Number, | per 1,000 gallons of | gallons of water sold. water sold. NTGETITOOO;O00, er eM iu cards samash Sele dUlawatef ilienrine ey ne Benaiy pu mae 5 $0. 5608 1,000,000 and under 5,000,000.... 1... .scces sees 5 $0.4476 35 203 1 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000. ...........2ec eee: 12 3476 35 1579 10,000,000 and under 15,000,000.,..........0. 008. 12 2521 45 1445. 15,000,000 and under 20,000,000.......... 0.00 cece 10 2372 41 10g0 20,000,000 and under 25,000,000....... .......06: 12 2164 26 1108 25,000,000 and under 50,000,000.......... 020000 50 1524 105 0840 50,000,000 and under 75,000,000........ cc... eceees 44 1281 52 0743 75,000,000 and under 100,000,000..... .....2..005 26 1183 24. 0792 100,000,000 and under 125,000,000..........22 008. 20 0973 23 0639 125,000,000 and UNAEF 150,000,000 ........ esse eeee 9 1059 22 0640 150,000,000 and under 175,000,000.... 2... e004 14 0902 6 0530: 175,000,000 and under 200,000,000 ....serseoe see. 8 og81 12 0693 200,000,000 and under 250,000,000... . s-eesssees. 23 0963 15 0889: 250,000,000 and under 590,000,000. .......+222s00- 52 0705 58 o615, 500,000,000 and under 750,000,000........ -sese:- 30 0589 38 o708 750,000,000 and under I,000,000,000............- 14 0618 20 0610 1,000,000,000 and under §,000,000,000.........++: 30 0563 78 0593 §,000,000,000 and under 10,000,000,000,......... 4 1136 6 0472 TO,O00 000,000 OT OVET Sie celcese ch lieve se siics| acalves sess selicses) wets see 13 .0526 An examination of the table shows that in every group of plants except two the average price charged per 1,000 gallons is smaller in municipal than in private plants. This table when studied in connection -with a preceding short table (above), showing the cost of production per 1,000 gallons of water furnished for consumption, affords some interesting comparisons. In that table and this one the same figures ‘are used in private plants as to the quantity of water considered. The figures as to price and cost of production should, therefore, be properly comparable. The figures in that table are first given as showing the cost of production excluding depreciation, taxes, and interest on the investment or cost of works, and next given including these elements. Taking the column showing the latter statement it is seen that interest is included and that the column therefore shows the figures at which the water could be sold and yield a dividend or profit on the amount of the total investment equal to the rate of interest paid on the last issue of city bonds. It would naturally be supposed that the average prices secured by private plants would at least be as large as these figures, but a comparison shows that in none of the groups does the average price charged for the water sold equal the cost of production after pro- viding for depreciation, taxes, and a reasonable profit on the investment 86 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS —a profit equivalent to the interest paid by the city on its last issue of municipal bonds. So far as municipal plants are concerned the short table immediately preceding necessarily shows prices only for water sold, the quantity furnished for the public service being excluded. A comparison of these prices with the figures in the former short table referred to, giving the average cost of production per 1,000 gallons of water furnished, including depreciation, estimated taxes, interest on total investment, etc., shows that this cost exceeds the price charged in all of the groups except the last two. In these two groups, made up of the nineteen largest municipal plants for which reports were secured, the average price charged private consumers was in excess of the cost of production, including all of the additional elements theoretically en- tering into the same. The explanation of these results as regards the relation between cost of production and prices may be found in the fact that depreciation, which is here included in the cost of production, is, as a rule, not considered by the plants themselves as an actual charge against cost, and that prices are consequently based on cost exclusive of this element. The reasons for furnishing a statement which includes this element, however, and the manner in which the figures were ob- tained, have been fully set forth in the discussion of Table VI, preceding. GAS WORKS SALARIES AND WAGES In connection with the cost of salaries and wages in municipal and private plants a short table has been prepared, similar to that shown under waterworks, giving the average cost of salaries and of wages per 1,000,000 cubic feet of gas produced. This table, which follows, includes all plants for which separate figures for the quantity of gas produced and for salaries and wages during their last fiscal year were secured. AVERAGE COST OF SALARIES AND WAGES PER 1,000,000 CUBIC FEET OF GAS PRODUCED, Private plants. Municipal plants. - Hf Average cost per “! Average cost per . Gas produced (cubic feet). ait 1,000,000 cubic feet, ate 1,000,000, cubic feet. Teport-| ig, ca We he DOKL ing, | Salaries. Wages. ing, | Salaries. Wages, Under 2.000, 000.053. ou i ee 7 $353.36 $540.56 I $457.32 $603.93 2,000,000 and under 5,000,000. . 62 215.87 280. 24 2 230.77 131.09 5,000,000 and under Io ,000,000. . 59 181.16 221.33 2 130.17 234.23 10,000,000 and under 15,000,000.. 42 155.42 BI B63 ico eave ete uae aealiey tee ks erie alee 15,000,000 and under 20,000,000.. 43 141.06 198.21 2 57.00 183.06 20,000,000 and under 25,000,000.. 23 140.89 183.51 I 73.44 227.39 25,000,000 and under 50,000,000.. 38 115.21 183.59 I 70.57 167.13 50,000,000 and under 75,000,000. . 16 96.14 TSA CAS A eaatiet cal cavanenon uate cera alae 75,000,000 and under 100,000,000. 9 86.25 TAT TS iualstyesiet ea lies CeleMp steal meas a kiran 100,000,000 and under ti 000,000 17 64.03 150.52 2 28.41 229.57 500,000,000 or over.. Vie 8 31.57 122.24 GAS aeveki neste SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 87 It is to be regretted that the small number of municipal gas plants in operation in the country (14), and the consequent small number for which schedules were secured (11), detracts somewhat from a compari- son between private and municipal plants as to salary and wage cost. For the plants reporting, however, it is seen that, so far as salaries are concerned, the average cost in the first two groups is somewhat larger in municipal plants than in those under private ownership and control. In all the other groups, however, which contain both private and munic- ipal plants, the cost in private plants exceeds that in municipal plants, and in some cases this excess is considerable. So far as wage cost is concerned, four of the groups show a larger cost in municipal plants than in private, while the opposite is true in three cases, in one of which the average cost in the private plants is more than double that in the plants under municipal ownership. It has been found possible to summarize the results as to the cost of production, and, accordingly, several tables have been made, one show- ing the cost of production per 1,000 cubic feet of gas produced and two others showing this cost per 1,000 cubic feet of gas sold. In presenting these tables it is proper to say that, before making the various calcula- tions found therein, the value of the residuals and by-products which were sold by the various plants has been deducted from the cost of pro- duction. The first table, then, shows for the private and municipal plants falling under each of the groups used in the general tables the average cost of production per 1,000 cubic feet of gas produced during the fiscal year for which report was made by the various plants. In order that private and municipal plants may be placed on the same basis for comparison in this table, two columns showing cost have been made for each of the two classes of plants. The first of these columns shows the average cost of production excluding depreciation, taxes, and interest on the total investment (cost of plant). Depreciation is to some extent a theoretical element, and for this reason some may wish to see the figures with this element excluded. Taxes have not been included in the case of private plants, because taxes are not a cost in municipal plants; while interest on the total investment is excluded, because of the fact that private or corporate owners do not usually borrow money for the investment and pay interest on the same, as is done by cities, but issue and sell stock for this purpose. Bonds, it is true, are also sometimes issued by private plants, and in such cases there is a regular interest charge; but the practice is far from uniform. With these ele- ments eliminated in both classes of plants, only the actual cost for 88 SOCIAL, MOVEMENTS administration, labor, materials and supplies, general distributing expenses, and repairs and renewals are taken into consideration. The second column, showing cost for each of the two classes of plants, on the other hand, includes depreciation, taxes, and interest on the total investment (cost of plant). Interest has in all cases been estimated at the rate paid by the city on its last issue of bonds. Private and munici- pal plants are thus put upon the same basis. The assumption of this rate as applied to private plants is justified by the probability that the municipality could raise funds for the establishment of such a plant at the rate paid upon its last issue of bonds, and that therefore for a fair comparison the same rate should be used for both classes of plants. Some private plants, it is true, will be found paying interest charges in excess of this estimate, because of the fact that bonds have been issued at a higher rate of interest or in excess of the cost of the plant. It is well understood that municipal plants do not pay taxes, but in order to furnish a fair basis for comparison estimates have been inserted repre- senting the taxes that would have been collected from these plants had they been owned by private individuals or corporations. It will be seen at once that plants owned and operated by municipalities take the place of just so much private property from which taxes would be received to the amount estimated, the ownership on the part of cities involving a definite decrease in the amount of taxable property. The estimates are based on the judgment of the local assessors as to the assessed value of the plants considered. The table follows: AVERAGE COST OF PRODUCTION PER 1,000 CUBIC FEET OF GAS PRODUCED. [The value of the residuals and by-products which were sold by the various plants has been de- ducted from the cost of production before using the same as the basis for this table.] Private plants. Municipal plants. Average cost of pro- Average cost of pro- duction per 1,000 duction per 1,000 cubic feet, cubic feet. Nam ie os nf nen TN Ue = Gas produced (cubic feet). ber Including Including ber re- | Excluding| deprecia- | re. |Excluding| deprecia- port- deprecia- |tion, taxes.) port-| deprecia- | tion, esti- ing. |tion, taxes,| and esti- | ing, |, tion and |mated tax- and inter- | mated in- interest on/es, interest est on total] terest on totalin- jon total in- investment] total in- vestment, | vestment, vestment, etc, WNder 2,000,000 88 it yin S ud valet 10 $1.86 $3.71 I $2.26 $3.34 2,000,000 and under 5,000,000........ 69 1,18 Bui? 2 6 1.1 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000. ,..... 63 .98 1,84 2 82 I.51 10,000,000 and under 15,000,000...... 43 -79 LCAA aH Biola fell. sialeinlo-aileratsiciels | aishait slain duets @ 15,000,000 and under 20,000,000,.... 45 .78 Teo 2 .60 .96 20,000,000 and under 25,000,000...... 23 .78 1.35 I .68 1.03 25,000,000 and under §0,000,000..... 38 .68 1,25 I 155 gI 50,000,000 and under 75,000,000...... 17 65 Tis EAS al dtsleih sta wla/s lel slab cioie ialaicie ss tela al ehals 75,000,000 and under 100,000,000. .... 9 61 LV OOMP selsis sell een sieebaiesioalineaictieese ne 100,000,000 and under §500,000,000,...} 18 45 .92 2 «44 63 500,000,000 OF OVETL......ccecec ce cscces| 8 .46 7G FPA RR I EON phasaele Nia aH 1a) VENDA 4c, SOCIAL MOVEMENTS - 89 Taking up the comparison of the plants in each of the groups in which comparison is possible, it is seen that the columns giving the average cost of production excluding depreciation, taxes, and interest on total investment show that in all groups except the first the average cost per 1,000 cubic feet of gas produced is less in municipal plants than in private; while the columns giving the average cost including these elements show in every group of plants an excess of cost in private plants. As will be seen by reference to Table V, quite a considerable income was derived in some plants from the sale of by-products and residuals, and, as has been stated, the amounts derived from this source have been deducted from the cost of production in every case before using the figures as a basis for this table. In Table VII it is shown that in all plants engaged in making gas quite a considerable per cent of the product is lost by leakage before being sold; also a considerable quantity is used at the works and offices of the plants. Owing to this portion of the product that is either lost by leakage or used by the plants, and the fact that no revenue is derived from the same, it has been thought best to make another table based on the quantity of gas actually furnished for consumption to private users and to the municipality. The second of the tables referred to has been constructed on this basis and the result follows, AVERAGE COST OF PRODUCTION PER 1,000 CUBIC FEET OF GAS FURNISHED FOR CONSUMPTION, [The value of the residuals and by-products which were sold by the various plants has been de- ducted from the cost of production before using the same as the basis for this table.]} Private plants. Municipal plants. Average cost of pro- Average cost of pro- duction per 1,000 duction per 1,000 cubic feet, cubie feet, NUM -Hiter ca nnanT Dero ean NIN Utes] (lieicin fs Para Ws edu bien aa Gas produced (cubic feet). ber Including} ber Including re- | Excluding! deprecia- | re. | Excluding | deprecia- rt-| deprecia- |tion, taxes,| port-| deprecia- | tion, esti- ing. |tion, taxes,| and esti- ing. tion and |mated tax- and inter- | mated in- interest on|es, interest est on total] terest on totalin- jon total in- investment! total in- vestment, | vestment, vestment, ete) Under 2,000,000.........2. cee ce coeee- II $2.28 $4.46 I $2.80 $4.15 2,000,000 and under 5,000,000........ 69 1.38 2.55 2 .85 I 45 5,000,000 and under 10,000,000....... 63 1,17 2, 20 2 .96 1.78 10,000,000 and under 15,000,000......] 42 .96 De TBM lees cee pee aahe MRE oe eee need we 15,000,000 and under 20,000,000,,... 44 92 1.80 2 .69 Ins2 20,000,000 and under 25,000,000,..... 22 ‘ 1.55 I 79 1.20 25,000,000 and under §0,000,000..... 38 81 1.49 I .62 1,03 50,000,000 and under 75,000,000,..... 17 75 1.33 daseeist 75,000,000 and under 100,000,000. .... 9 72 1.25 age i 100,000,000 and under 500,000,000,...| 17 .49 1,02 2 151 73 500,000,000 OF OVEL., 20.5 os cece ve seeees 8 51 PRA GIVEN ALMERIA Eee ei rerae at ciple & This table is quite similar to the one immediately preceding, and shows that in all of the groups except two the average cost of produc- 90 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS tion per 1,000 cubic feet of gas furnished for consumption excluding the elements of depreciation, taxes, and interest on the total investment is greater in private than in municipal plants. If these elements are included, it is shown that the cost is less in the municipal plants in every group affording a comparison. A short table showing the range of costs in the last five groups of the preceding table has also been prepared. This table follows, and shows the lowest and highest, as well as the average, cost in each class of plants (private and municipal) in each of the five groups which con- tain plants having the largest production. LOWEST, HIGHEST, AND AVERAGE COST OF PRODUCTION PER 1,000 CUBIC FEET OF GAS FURNISHED FOR CONSUMPTION IN FIVE GROUPS OF PLANTS, Private plants, Lowest, highest, and average cost of produc- tion per 1,000 cubic feet. Gas produced (cubic feet), 25,000,000 and under 50,000,000. .....ceccees 50,000,000 and under 75,000,000, .... «eee cess 975,000,000 and under 100,000,000,.......6..- 100,000,000 and under 500,000,000 ..... .... 500,000,000 OF OVET......-c00- SRO eHae Peers Gas produced (cubic feet), Number c reporting| Excluding deprecia- Including deprecia- tion, taxes, and inter-} tion, taxes, and esti- est on total invest- ment. 38 $o.36-$1 .99-$0.81 17 «57— 1-04- .75 9 47- I.00- .72 a7, 16- .95- .49 8 40- .84- .51 mated interest on total investment. $0.68-$3.41-$1.49 .86— 2.35- 1.33 I.06- 1.65- 1.25 -58- I1.73- 1.02 -75- 1.44- .84 Municipal plants, Lowest, highest, and average cost of produc- tion per 1,000 cubic feet, Number reporting) Hxcluding deprecia- tion and interest on total investment, Including deprecia- tion, estimated taxes, interest on total in- vestment, etc, 25,000,000 and under 50,000,000. .......e.00 I $0.62-$0.62-$0.62 $1 .03-$1.03-$1 .03 50,000,000 GIG EGET: 76,000, 000sd i555 a wine al pre's els oiled [oi a ba ptincintudte culate cae olae ot amele meine Rie sreiita aha rea 75,000,000 ANG UN GET 400,000,000. btn slau alen lic sns win ured odes, weal se Sale guerre d niiow | eaiwals'e ue-ma conten MERC E ete 100,000,000 and under 500,000,000.........6. 2 -46- .54- 51 -62- .79- .73 500,000,000 OF OVEL ss aaasrc icine seals sisiesleisie|iises pale clenteil sg'eeteiae ateeareens During the course of the investigation complete statements as regards cost of production were secured from twelve plants, which are not included in the general tables owing to the fact that the officers were unwilling to furnish all the data called for by the schedule of inquiries used by the Department. These twelve plants are located in twelve cities, and are owned and operated by as many distinct private corpora- tions, but are all under a single control or supervision. The properties in each case have been acquired by purchase during the last twelve years. All of these plants appear to have been operated under excep- tionally good management, and it is therefore interesting to know the SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 91 results of the same. The various plants use all systems making coal, oil, and water gas. The facts relating to the twelve plants, combined as furnished to the Department, are presented in the statement which follows. The cost of these plants was approximately $10,000,000, this sum being divided among the various items as follows: Land, $1,000,000; buildings, $1,000,000; equipment within works, $2,000,000 ; holders, $1,000,000; mains, $3,800,000; meters, $1,000,000, and teams; tools, and other accessories, $200,000. The general statement as to cost of production during the fiscal year considered is as follows: General expenses: Salaries of officers, snperintendents, clerks, etc......... vse $124,419 Office supplies and expenses... ...,cccceaccerscccscescvess 323209 TNSUTANCE sy suis te ces ein cas wsite cise slaeaee be we tivisletd eeiccite sacs 5,070 Legal expenses and damages.......... BO eh Ph Re ioe ls sage se 31310 CHOP Man wic wevarseinas + cee celee @eeesaee0 008 @aseoevoe27 2828 e800 7:491 URE OLGL Ia ee cc siisis dace tie sce ceick es ah ened coterie ucestaseseemer ply 2,409 WASOS oie coc e wien cncs vcccwcence e@eeenev200 0993082 @eecenoonvan @eeseoeseaevae08 00 251,626 Materials and supplies: eele cep cutp sis ate cio claels ee é « wateaetatetane cte:s eels erste ae $ 10,385 Materials used in manufacture........ccccescccccsee cesses 397,744 Other supplies...........0scceeeee Pe iam tere Nt orate aoe erate 1 a0\a24 PR ORE Dr eeaee ee oee re ie ale coatalae bela e weotseld’d eal ealee Wale ete 446,453 General distributing expemses..........cceccs secs ccss case ee celsateas ss 88,578 Maintenance: Actual disbursements for repairs and renewals— CNG WOLKE oc emt ti eines cold sith aie atem cmeaie gas $73,755 ADMINS S ce cat eles dieaas aac ess acl sie sce aa ar acols 12,630 Others... Mae laeiere tis ae tra ea ci el erties oreo » 30,739 Total for repairs and renewals..... o pleiaiia Sela tas! ale . $117,124 Estimated depreciation— AYU DIN LOIS ites etons Sasi tetraie su eles st ay 4 sts $20,000 On manufacturing equipment................0 60,000 On distributing system, meters, and apparatus.. 70,000 Potal deprecigtion Fo Hines sla sees sacalesesicees daseati) £50,000 Total maintenance.... @eeeseeaseessneeaoneses88O 29h 090882882 2 8 OF 267,124 : including depreciation.............0.00. «$1,226,280 Total cost of production excluding depreciation...) vise. sd elacse« : 1,076,280 EROCIciuscistcicdecattesmeciae earns Pie wieseial: ARC BRE ENCORE ent ease : including depreciation........... «+ 1,307,845 Total cost of production and taxes excluding depreciation............ “ 1,157,845 There were made during the year 3,176,646,900 cubic feet of gas, of which 152,784,513 feet, or slightly under 5 per cent, were lost by leak- age, 3,996,900 feet were used at the works and offices, and 3,018,243,987 feet were sold. There were on hand at the beginning of the year 2,832,700 feet of gas, and at the end of the year, 4,454,200 feet. The total income for the year was $3,405,781, and the cost of production 92 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS including taxes, depreciation, and interest on the investment at the average rate paid on the last issues of bonds in the cities involved (3.5 per cent) was $1,657,845, leaving a net profit of $1,747,936 over and above the cost shown in the preceding statement. From these state- ments it is seen that the average cost of production in the twelve plants excluding depreciation, taxes, and interest on the investment at 3.5 per cent was 23 cents per 1,000 cubic feet of gas sold, and, including the above-mentioned elements, 42 cents per 1,000 cubic feet of gas sold. The amount received from the sale of residuals and by-products has, of course, been deducted from the cost of production in the calculation of the average cost per 1,000 cubic feet of gas sold, as shown above. If any comparison of cost of production be made between these twelve plants and any plants included in the general tables, or between any of the individual plants of those tables, it should be done with the most careful regard to the varying conditions of equipment, kind of gas manufactured, cost of fuel and other materials and supplies, quan- tity of gas manufactured and sold, the conditions of distribution, etc. Comparisons of cost between plant and plant cannot fairly be made without a study of all these facts which for the individual plants are shown in the general tables. It will thus be seen that no plant can be selected as representative of all or any large class, and that no amount of cost, either for the items or for the total, can be established as a criterion for other plants, speaking generally and without such study as has been indicated above. PRICES The prices shown in this table are somewhat unsatisfactory when we attempt to use them for comparative purposes, owing to the fact that quite generally the real price is considerably under the price charged owing to the discounts which are allowed for the various reasons stated. As these discounts are not uniform in the various plants, quite a con- siderable amount of calculation is necessary in comparing two or more plants as regards prices. So far, however, as the actual prices are con- cerned—that is, those based on the total quantity of gas sold and the total income from the same—it may be interesting to examine the short table which follows. This table shows the average price received per 1,000 cubic feet for all gas sold by private and municipal plants classi- fied according to the groups adopted in the general tables. The cost of production is not considered here, and for this reason the gas furnished SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 93 by municipal plants for public use is not included. The results have been found by using simply the absolute figures as to the quantity of gas sold by each of the two classes of plants and the income derived from such sale. The table follows: AVERAGE PRICE PER 1,000 CUBIC FHET OF GAS SOLD. Private plants. Municipal plants, Gas produced (cubic feet) AVEFASS AYerae ; Number price Number price reporting. | persi,ooo | reporting. | per 1,000 cubic feet. cubic feet. MINAEP 2.060, 0000 saline CURE Kbillod sales Guleae dies II $2.65 I $2.64 2,000,000 and under 5,000,000,,..... 665.005 sesees 69 1.85 2 2.42 §,000,000 and under 10,000,000, ...... 0000000 sees 63 1.64 2 1.62 10,000,000 and Unde®r 15,000,000...... 2002 cee cees 42 1.54 Sia siars Selinishela 15,000,000 and under 20,000,000........ccecceecee 44 1.58 2 . 86 20,000,000 and under 25,000,000........ ce. ecce08 22 1.50 I 1.34 25,000,000 and under 50,000,000............ ssee0- 38 1.40 I .80 50,000,000 and under 75,000,000..............++5. 17 RAN GIN, NOL Uae eh Atty 75,000,000 and under I00,000,000..............00: EN 2 Fain Ihaxote secaialedatacn yy | aratele womtic aia ore 100,000,000 and under 500,000,000,...........000- a7, 1,16 2 92 Ek cee ahs ote'etiice-e all eee pied aie alate KOO QODLOO0 OF OV ETE soon pe iie oeeles ecied aint abcd ania 's An examination of the above table shows that in every group of plants except one the average price charged per 1,000 cubic feet is smaller in municipal than in private plants. This table when studied in connection with a preceding short table (above), showing the cost of production per 1,000 cubic feet of, gas furnished for consumption affords some interesting comparisons. In that table and in this one the same figures are used in the private plants as to quantity of gas consid- ered, and the figures as to price and cost of production should, therefore, be properly comparable. The figures in that table are first given as show- ing cost of production excluding depreciation, taxes, and interest on the _ investment or cost of works, and next given including these elements. Taking the column showing the latter statement, it is seen that interest is included, and that the column therefore shows the figures at which the gas could be sold and yield a dividend or profit on the amount of the total investment equal to the rate of interest paid on the last issue of city bonds. It would naturally be supposed that the average prices se- cured by private plants would at least be as large as these figures, but a comparison shows that in only the four largest groups does the average price charged for the gas sold exceed the cost of production after pro- viding for depreciation, taxes, and a reasonable profit on the investment —a profit equal to the interest paid by the city on its last issue of munici- pal bonds. So far as municipal plants are concerned, the short table necessarily shows prices only for gas sold, the quantity furnished for the public service being excluded. A comparison of these prices with 94 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS the figures in the former short table referred to, giving the average cost of production per 1,000 cubic feet of gas furnished including depreciation, estimated taxes, interest on total investment, etc., shows that this cost exceeds the price charged in four of the groups, while in three of the groups the average price charged private consumers was in excess of the cost of production, including all the elements theoreti- cally entering into the same. The explanation of these results as regards the relation between cost of production and prices may be found in the fact that depreciation, which is here included in the cost of production, is, aS a rule, not considered by the plants themselves as an actual charge against cost, and that prices are consequently based on cost exculsive of this element. The reasons for furnishing a statement which includes this element, however, and the manner in which the figures were obtained, have been fully set forth in the discussion of Table VI. ELECTRIC LIGHT PLANTS SALARIES AND WAGES As is seen by reference to Table VI, separate figures for salaries and wages have not been secured for all of the 952 plants covered, a portion or all of the wage cost being included in salaries in some plants and vice versa. For 576 private plants and 245 municipal plants, how- ever, the accounts were kept separately and accurate data were obtained. The short table which follows is based on the plants reporting separ- ately as to the cost of salaries and wages during their last fiscal year, and shows for each of the groups adopted in the general tables the aver- age cost of salaries and wages per plant. While it would have been preferable to make some unit of the product the basis for this average cost of salaries and wages, this could not be done owing to the impos- sibility, as previously stated, of reducing the product to a uniform unit. It is believed, however, that a comparison of these groups based on the horse-power capacity of engines will show approximately the conditions as to the cost in the two classes of plants. The table follows. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 95 AVERAGE COST OF SALARIES AND WAGES PER PLANT. Private plants. Municipal plants, Plants having engines with 1 , t 1 horse-power of— Num- |Average cost per plant} nym. |Average cost per plant DO LETC | casera NN TAME LN AaIN DC KUEr slat, yaiaeeeccc Go Tonsein S a porting| Salaries. Wages. jporting} Salaries. Wages. —_—_—_— Oe [| | rs OO Oh HOST SOUL sak wvecne sce Sareewdes 6 | $ 261.66 | $ 450.00 5 $ 102.60} $ 682.00 Bo AUC MAN CT OS. ea veg ee seates 33 581.00 784.70 15 258.00 984.13 Pe aANG UMGET FOO. svena rte cee 29 558.86 835.41 27 358.78 $24.22 TOA UCIT EtTIS es UR ee 4I 697.07 1,002.90 41 423.17 846.85 $25, ANC TUNGET 150,,.05 Jel stecueiecns 32 740.59 1,053.28 27 579.11 1,006.41 TE ANA UNCeT 200i Lasts te ei ee 58 857.93 1,499.55 31 587.23 1,288.74 BOG IFC AUTO OE BOONE ay usala g's Ste 86 1,092.81 1,959.42 48 826.63 2,116.79 Z00 and Under 4005 0.606 cca lsssaee- 44 1,711.95 3,232.09 2I 1,005.33 2,822.24 ACOAVAMINGEM SOO ah eine wee ee 39 2,269.26 3,843.59 9 1,063.00 4,760.33 Scoand wider son nycin cele esi we 65 2,592.35 5,150.29 9 1,135.78 4,292.22 750 BUG NOGENT O00 4.) fas) asshue oles 44 3,738.20 8,494.27 3 1,726.33 6,766.33 TOOOMA TIC UNGETIT SOOM eine ee yeas 34 4,744.12 10,026.00 4 3,785.00 11,425.50 1,500 and under 2,000...........0-- 20 5,611.00 14,082.10 2 3,675.00 17,421.50 ° 2,000 and under 3,000.......... 000. 20 9,889.30 23,064.65 2 6,366.00 47,506.00 3,000 and uuder 5,000............-- II 15,150.64 26,422.27 I 3,493.00 12,318.00 B,OOOIOL OVET UN hilccsewecle sue doles 14 35,462.86 GO TAG TSO I even cass | cialatnla sl eratelalateit pale slis/slaial's Asie In the above table it is seen that so far as salaries are concerned the average cost in municipal plants is smaller in every group pre- sented, in some cases being less than half the average cost in private plants. As regards wage cost, it is seen that in seven of the groups shown the average cost in the municipal plants exceeds that in the pri- vate plants, while in eight of the groups this cost in the private plants is greater than in those municipally owned and controlled. PRICES Owing to the difficulties already mentioned as to comparisons between individual plants regarding prices, several summary tables have been made, bringing together by groups all of the facts which could _ properly be brought into comparison. The groups adopted are those used in the general tables. Of the two summaries relating to arc lighting, one of the short tables, showing the average price per lamp per year of arc lighting by hours of service rendered, is inserted in the analysis of Table XI, being based on that table, while the other table, showing the average price per kilowatt hour charged in the arc service, and based on the table under discussion, follows: 96 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS AVERAGE PRICE PER KILOWATT HOUR CHARGED IN ARC SERVICE, Private plants, Municipal plants. Plants having engines with | Num- | AYE | num- | AY®™ | num- | AY€™ | Num- | AVE horse-power of — ber og ber badly ber oes ber o to price to price to cost to report-| PCE '0! report- ...| report- port- A < Tivate re municl}| “35 private int munici- n8- |"users. 8: | pality, &- |"users, 8 | pality ER SOs NO Nant ee Waren cae I |$o.1028 3 |$0.1258 I |$o0.0815 6 | $0.0719 SQandwinder Zs ee 19 1146 22 .0861 Io . 1100 18 .0631 Sand Under TOO 6. we eee ee 18 .0986 21 .0868 Io .0822 30 .0499 TOO\ANAMNGET AZ ie et ece ewes 23 .0940 34 .0770 15 .0776 36 .0423 TAR ANCUNGEM ISO ev euy cece 17 .0892 24 .0798 I2 .0684 31 .0376 150 and under 200. ....... 2.000. 38 . 1291 47 .0846 16 .0862 29 .0397 200 ANd UNGET 2008). cee eee 58 .1075 72 .07I0 31 .082I 42 .0451 B00 RNG HNder Zoo SN eee 40 .0906 40 .0659 II 0783 24 0408 400 and under 500.........ccecee 27, . 1000 33 -0657 3 .0556 9 0430 SQO NA UNGET 750i soscvicneeeeles 57 .1046 54 .0696 6 1139 ey 0406 750 and under 1,000. .... cc. ceee 38 .0939 35 .0629 I 0833 4 0337 1,000 and under 1,500.......000e- 31 .1056 32 .0698 4 0521 3 0418 1,500 and under 2,000.,..... ws 15 .1299 20 .0709 I 1126 2 0233 2,000 and under 3,000........... 18 - 1157 18 LOGOATAY Seon to ahaa ous 2 0381 3,000 and under 5,000........... 9 . 1202 II .0514 I .0380 I .0264 5,000 Or OVEr,.... Me cere a lateretieta ate 10 . 1400 I2 BOSOO i] sionay cia Geteleratel Pay Male weleifia s eaetetate This table shows for private plants and for municipal plants, subdi- vided according to the groups shown in the general tables, the average price of service to private users per kilowatt hour and the average price charged to the municipality per kilowatt hour by private plants as compared with the average cost to the municipality of are lights fur- nished for the municipal service by municipal plants. Taking up first the average price charged per kilowatt hour by private plants in each group, and comparing it with the average price charged to private users per kilowatt hour by municipal plants, it is seen that in all of the groups subject to comparison except one the average price charged by munici- pal plants is smaller than that charged by private plants. As regards the arc lighting used in the municipal service, it is seen that in every group subject to comparison the average price per kilowatt hour charged to the municipality by private plants for its arc lighting service is greater than the average cost per kilowatt hour to the municipality of the same service when furnished by its own plant. As regards the incandescent lighting service, as has been stated, it was found impossible to reduce the product to a uniform basis, and for this reason a series of tables has been made, each of which includes all of the prices found in the general table based on the particular unit to which each of the summary tables refers. The first table shows the average price per lamp per year charged in the unmetered incandescent service. In this table have been included all the prices shown in the general table for the unmetered incandescent service, whether the price was given as per lamp per month or per lamp SOCIAL MOVEMENTS OT per year, the prices given per lamp per month having been reduced to the basis of 16 candle-power lamp per year. The table follows. AVERAGE PRICE PER 16-CANDLEPOWER LAMP PER YEAR CHARGED IN UNMET- ERED INCANDESCENT SERVICE. Private plants, Municipal plants, Plants having engines with | Num- rote! Num- a ra um- vlad Num- rine ' horse-power of — ber Perea erie ae hi beeline cre: vate Merl aaa ey report- LS ead report- Pe report- Lay report- : rad private ing munici-| 35 private ing munict- users * | pality users * | pality SUID ONSO se ce sine caine SE ine 3 $5.23 3 $5.65 3 $8.09 4 $ 8.63 SOMANG UNGEL FES stl. o cele cee etal 25 7,50 16 8.40 II 5.16 9 10.09 75a NGuUnd ee TOO sate wee cies celts 25 6.20 21 10,21 20 5.35 14 6.97 foc and Under I25.. ier esse tye 43 6.19 30 8.12 35 4.62 23 5.08 Bay AIK) MNCL ISO,. pouch cach ccs 31 6.32 22 7.76 20 4.57 22 4.58 WSO and Under 200.) iis ceed eece 46 7.02 39 10.06 24 5.33 26 5.97 200and under $00...) 4... .0-2 nee 60 6.42 50 10.55 28 5.61 30 4.45 300 and under 400..............- 25 5.89 27 11.11 13 8.19 15 4.34 400 and under 500.............0 21 7.90 22 12.76 3 ai 7 5.56 500 ANG Under 75Ou.n co aces ves es 31 7.32 32 10.28 5 2.56 6 4.36 750 and under I,000.............- 20 7.56 21 LOVEE ea ageilleniementers 3 2.91 1,000 and under 1,500.).. 202. ..-. 13 6.97 20 11.98 2 6.00 4 3532 1,500 and under 2,000............ 5 5.88 6 8.49 I 3.93 2 Sa77 2,000 and under 3,000........... 3 11.53 8 LOO 2a eaweite te lyieeente e I 11.44 3,000 and under 5,000. ........6. 2 10.64 3 7.40 I BeOS ete aclewilis sinters OOO OLOVE haere tiesie slelere isc cc ais s/s | 3 4.46 3 EU O7 ole ateapacets (GS tecey eaters |e scutes There is shown in the preceding table for all plants reporting as to the facts, under each of the groups adopted in the general tables, the average price charged per lamp per year by private plants to private users and to the municipality, and also the average price charged by municipal plants to private users and the average cost to the munici- pality of its own service. Taking up first the average price charged to private users, it is seen that in all of the groups except two the average price charged by the private plants is considerably in excess of that charged by the municipal plants; while, so far as the electricity used for municipal purposes is concerned, it is seen that, with the exception of three groups, the average cost per lamp per year to the municipality of its own service is very much smaller than the price charged by private plants to the municipality for a similar service, this cost in some cases being less than half the price charged by private plants. The next three tables show average prices of the incandescent ser- vice per kilowatt hour, per lamp hour, and per ampere hour to private users in plants reporting prices on the basis of these units. The cost of production is not considered here, and for this reason the electricity furnished by municipal plants for public use is not included. The table showing the average price of the incandescent service per kilowatt hour to private users in plants reporting follows. pele BBTV _ SOCIAL MOVEMENTS AVERAGE PRICE OF INCANDESCENT SERVICE PER KILOWATT HOUR TO PRIVATE USERS. cc en —— Private plants, | Municipal plants. Num- | Average | Num- | Average Plants having engines with horse-power of— ber rice per | ber rice per report-| kilowatt | report- ilowatt ing. hour, ing. hour, Under s0. eeee eo ee oeee CCH HSH CHO SHOHSE HSH FLHKSEEKESEEH SHE OHHH EH Oe I $0. 2000 2 $0.1250 so and under 75. Beielns ll Weleweieigersiaedpoledine ccwlee Ventless 9 .1667 4 . 1650 Welndl UNGEL LOO seiu'c ote eauheed pend wleuce beleive ace ale f 1371 II 1264 100 and under 125... seiodilctersae Bowe ae silalcak aie Welseuiasltierslafeiatee 16 21559 23 21173 VIS ANA MHBGEEIESOI Lee ba bce anu tamer evumal Si omelb ah aeeeitil 15 1466 13 1146 150 and under 200....... ADS ALL Be EN AT AMC aE dR ela 35 21552 24 - 1160 200 and under 300,.......- Meee Nace aitvale Wie Ss eu bate SEMEN EM EY 28 1646 27 «1132 BOO BUG UNMET MOO LL es cnc Ur eklncdaweeasesnsa sec sip ee uleeinscs 32 -1582 II -1162 JOO ANd UBAEF/ SOOM eek ee irons 26 1526 2 1250 Roo and ander wea be koe Me aie Ce te uae te 34 +1497 3 0800 750 and under 1,000... Weltiale's'ealsti\sloie wisisie ms eialoels ey cee as ibierersiatele 32 -1589 I 0800 1,000 and under I,500. eee cere 8 O& CHS o EES OOS COOS DESL CEE: 25 -1538 3 - 1083 T,SOO/ ANG WNAETAOOO! iN eb Wecncdelececiemecie cee begin eine 13 01555 I 0500 2,000 and under 3,000... plalgierp atete sieh eae eile sracisisine od tie oa ee 10 ETZ5 RU cies s ain'e dice eipleseinents 3,000 BNCAUNGELS COO, tL. sual Welwatsaetina core citelwere tema ag 8 - 1406 I +0450 5,000 OF OVEF ........ 0 ealacwisie's le sibisiesieieels (cis sas ee ety etal oye he 9 SITSIO NE ee ae esti lala mineieietes This table shows for the plants reporting the price per kilowatt hour, in each of the groups adopted in the general tables, the average price per kilowatt hour charged by private plants and the average price charged by municipal plants. Taking up the figures, it is seen that in all of the groups the average price charged per kilowatt hour by municipal plants is less than that charged by private plants. The following table shows the average price of the incandescent service per lamp hour to private users in plants reporting: AVERAGE PRICE OF INCANDESCENT SERVICE PER. LAMP HOUR TO PRIVATE USERS. Private plants, Municipal plants. Num-| Average | Num- | Average ber | price per | ber price per report- lamp report-| lamp Plants having engines with horse-power of— ing. hour, ing. hour, Under so.. ee eee SG aes CHE SOCKEEKREHREHEHE SHEETS SESE EH HHL ceeesecee eee seeeree roe ee****hee wee er se eere 50 and under 5. PeUiticlrecialawletleme rin ceed siecle elsscieice nie I $0.0100 2 $0.0057 5 and under too.. Sita nei plsausiswisieuicials e Glele ciel tictelare alee ies 3 .OI00 4 .0060 Too‘and nuder bons LLL MselUea desman soak LMC Ie 6 .0096 2 0045 T25 ANGMINAEr ASO ee eee al ipisletaais cis ei melacerd) el aiisleleiarcislaly ee 2 -O113 6 0044 TSO ANG UNCED 2O0 KU eieciwclcceleslsiee cave clelesweine selees 7 -0093 6 -0055 200 and under 300,........ecccee aeleine itis cle sink sletoee cote cne 8 +0092 Io BOOANGUNGET) GOO) Wein h \ecloce Uieeleslesrels sieleesaclac octsialsnie lesa 3 J000B NN eeawieicee AAS ACS eee 400 ANG UNGEL SOO act lb saiclelb wiecleibara ba sind Ge widlees slo Ukieet 5 -0090 3 0067 BOO ANGUNGERI GSO Me ca/ceewlaneaeureree aun ee telenataieree ames 6 LOOST 4 MEA tea ay Dip he gy titen! 750 ANG: UNAEr TOO Mews saute suumlnts cm alala ouvelcieltelee ne 2 SOOGO Pr Melee OTe Se ataireats 1,000 BANG MUGEN T5OOL Ts. hsrwisaeetesn ele ee anes cemnicceme nes 7 -0096 P5000. ANGUNGET/ SOOO Was Crete ecmiee eulee eslew e ble mnwicue mauale I 0075 2000 ANG/UNGEF! S000, cen da sauicleedeleisicd ee le cetutehe See 2 ROOGT TleminitwieUl ces seeleew sits Caio lnm Nr gh LE Teel cle siaieie! ae Sielstctecne else e sae meracreias I ROLOO Maes cine tt atic ajeie aie cane 5,000 Or over . leis pie plelevele Woleibbie eiaieluin ih sislolere sie ihe olaliisla biteleicle 4 BOOSIE cteistarctertineranie ovata This table shows for the private and municipal plants reporting, in each of the groups adopted in the general tables, the average price per SOCIAL MOVEMENTS | 99 lamp hour to private users of incandescent service. An examination of the table shows that this average price is less in every group con- taining municipal plants than the corresponding group of private plants. The last of this series of tables shows the average price of the incan- descent service per ampere hour to private users in plants reporting. AVERAGE PRICE OF INCANDESCENT SERVICE PER AMPHERE HOUR TO PRIVATE USERS. Private plants, Municipal plants. Num- | Average | Num- | Average ber | price per | ber price per Plants having engines with horse-power of— -— report-| amphere | report-} amphere ing, hour, ing. hour, Under So.. Wi cicsiecleccacelecacidciesicclsiclesiece pieces ee as linuecies Nate Ly Leas Sas 50 and under 75. _ Maisie cel sicisiniepiatiwiale cicsiemeiersiasisvicinemece I $0.0075 3 $0.0055 ys and under 100.. Vesta Gisclelieisie sie slow cued triviee en seven 3 .0106 I .0050 100 and under 125.. a Nerlctarnis' eee Brelaaie cae als are tistometaie mets canto 7 -0083 4 20073 P25 ANAMNGETITEOs vas cals a visics cole saniee weesiiclnee Medel gegen 2 -O125 2 .007F TEOLAT CG UNGETH 200; Lene acs slolcsiscieee eee daiwa se eee ee 7 20083 7 .0058 SOO ANG UNGET/ JOO ses pep acecceclssee resivceecle seve ve crocus II -O105 8 x DOO UU NOEL AO se Neceicle cwslescis nrc hele eciealslonianiacee sielares as 6 .0080 4 -O113 AOD ANG MUNGET SOONG eda cice sesicliicnpsicaslelenaoualcodiemcost 2 -0085 2 -0063 ea eset secinitieniceteice secon 17 .0100 2 .0075 750 atrd-under 1,000.. 8 .0077 I .0075 1,000 and under 1,500.. isbioes eietianloncelsiecaiecticls cee 4 .0097 sitversts eB PFO ANGIUNACT!2,O00s sien scceccicciee saceliweviccccloniesie seas 4 SOTOG eee era ahi elraisteietsre satel 2,000 and under 3000... Sau eaiue Seve sae Caer welie camsle bile oa o's 6 0099 [ie sic cian sled sie stwe ie cle 2, COG ANG UNGET5;OOOs. 7 as scree sinles secicsiec se sitievissacicece cs I OOSO ES ieee Ti vete sleataarlela 5,000 or over e@eeor eee 0000 PETTITT FTO SHTH OP DORE BHO S PH O2 Does 3 0088 This table is similar to the two preceding, and shows for the private plants and the municipal plants reporting the average price per ampere hour charged to private users in each of the groups. The table shows that the average price is less in the municipal plants than in the private in all of the groups in which comparison could be made except one. It should be borne in mind that so far as municipal plants are concerned the three summaries immediately preceding necessarily show prices only for electricity sold, the quantity furnished for the public service being excluded. Table XI.—Prices (private plants) and cost of production (munic- ipal plants) of arc lighting per lamp per year (see tables).—This table deals with arc lighting alone and, as has been stated, contains data relating to the same plants for which arc light prices per kilowatt hour were furnished in the preceding general table. In this table the prices are given per lamp per year instead of per kilowatt hour, the table having been made for the purpose of furnishing prices on a per lamp per year basis for those who desire to compare the prices of the arc service on this basis. It should be noted, however, that this table does not show as many arc lamps as are shown in Table X, as it was deemed advis- able to omit all lamps on a strictly meter service and those in irregular 100 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS service, because it was believed that these could not fairly be put in comparison with other lamps. This table shows, for the lamps furnished for private service, the type of lamp, number of lamps, watts per lamp per hour, basis of price, hours of service per year, and price per lamp per year; while for the lamps used in the municipal service it shows the type and number of lamps, watts per lamp per hour, basis of price, hours of service per year, and price when bought from a privately owned plant or cost when furnished by a municipal plant per lamp per year. Considerable variation in the prices of lamps of the same type, and burning the same number of hours, is found not only in comparing the prices for different plants, but in comparing prices in the same plant, and is due very often to the conditions of the contract. Generally a single lamp or small number of lamps is furnished at a greater price per lamp than a large number. In addition to this, special prices are sometimes made in order to compete with gas companies furnishing a service in the same locality. It will be seen that by far the greater num- ber of the arc lamps shown in this table are used in the municipal ser- vice. Of this number almost all are used for street lighting, but a small proportion being used for other purposes. Of the arc lamps in private service, on the other hand, practically all are used for purposes other than street lighting. In order to bring the figures in this table into a more compact form for purposes of comparison, the following summary table has been made, showing the average price per lamp per year of arc lighting grouped according to the hours of service rendered per year: AVERAGE PRICE PER LAMP PER YEAR OF ARC LIGHTING, BY HOURS OF SERVICE RENDERED. Private plants, | Municipal plants, Avert- Aver- Aver- age age age ied “ai price a price fe price “ pa ie oe ice per year, um- per um- per um- er um- Hons Sh Aeon Behn, ber of | lamp | berof | lamp | ber of se ber of | @™pP lamps,| per |lamps.| per |lamps,| per |lamps, Le year to year to year to aia ae private munici- private Mit. 7 users pality. users DAML. MO ner 5006 so eve selene Loe ratalets 197 |$ 43.74 2 \$ 11.25 TUS sar aGAy| eaten ote ale rates 500 ANG NNGET 750. oe scl weet ae 335 54.64 31) 72.00 75 | 44.19 213 | $ 18.10 750 ANG UNGEL 1,000 J jccese aclee a 259 58.31 20 37.50 51 39.18 46 52.32 1,000 and under 1,250............ 1,938 69.87 672 | 58.13 85 | 54.98 477 27.49 1,250 and under 1,500............ 2,226 79.20 327 go. 78 362 59.09 433 55.78 T/Soo\asid Under T!750.0 02446 = eer 3,666 98.13 520 71.56 136 47.99 671 36.20 1,750 and under 2,000............ 3,001 | 76.08 966 | 67.76 345 | 52.48 677 37.61 -2,000 and under 2,250............ 4,896 | 101.16 7,382) | SL. 52 580 | 63.18 5,141 39-73 2,250 and under 2,500............ 1,535 | 117.88 1,649 86.17 26 67.99 761 52.57 2,500 and under 2,750............ 831 93.81 2,262 85.05 52 69.50 1,763 57.17 2,750 and under 3,000........0.6- 205 | 76.86 129 | 74.90 I2 | 47.50 1,198 43.76 3,000 and under 3,250......0. 000. 211 | 63.41 | 4,023 | 105.80 54 | 60.85] 2,173 45.76 3,250 and under 3,500............ 156 | 159.32 414 | 94.12 22 | 50.00 227 34.66 3,500 and under 3,750............ 436 | 91.42 2,854 | 93.99 31 | 84.52 1,006 54.71 3,750 and under 4,000............ 1,936 | 123.90 | 21,246 | 100.60 147 | 129.95 | 5,264 63.57 4,000 Of OVET re cceceececseeeeseeees| 29044 | 149.54 | 25,636 | 101.97 73 | 65.26] 2,669 58.56 cS POE SOCIAL MOVEMENTS — 101 The entire number of lamps furnished for service by private plants and by municipal plants is in this table grouped according to the num- ber of hours of service rendered per year. This element of hours of service rendered influences prices more considerably perhaps than any other condition of service, and for this reason it is selected as the basis of the groups into which the lamps furnished by the various plants have been divided. For the lamps under each of these groups is shown the average price per lamp per year to private users and to municipalities as charged by private plants, the average price charged by municipal plants to private users, and the average cost per lamp per year to the municipality of its own service when furnished by a municipal plant. Taking up the prices to private users, it is seen that in all of the groups except one the average price charged per lamp per year is smaller in municipal plants than in private ones. Comparing the col- umns showing the average price charged by private plants per lamp per year to the municipality and the average cost per lamp per year to the municipality of lights furnished by municipal plants, it is seen that in all of the groups except one the cost per lamp per year of lights fur- nished by municipal plants is smaller than the price charged per lamp per year by private plants to the municipality for the lights used in municipal service. H. W. MACROSTY OF THE Fapian SOCIETY ENGLISH STATE SOCIALISM [Published by the Fabian Society, England, representing English State socialism. | “CoMPETITION generally ends in combination; and that can now be carried out in the form of a ‘ring’ or ‘trust,’ on a scale and with a degree of perfection of which previous generations had no conception.” Such is the remarkable conclusion to which the Times came in a leader on the shipping rings, having banished the old ideas of political economy to Saturn. How then are we to fight the trusts? The “not very hopeful 102 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS course” which the same writer suggests is “to meet as far as possible combination by combination, to multiply the agencies against which the ‘ring’ must fight, until they are too many and strong to be mastered.” The German newspaper proprietors are starting paper-mills of their own in consequence of the heavy prices charged by the syndicate of paper- makers—an experiment which will be watched with much curiosity. Supposing this plan to be carried to a successful issue on a large scale, the country would be covered by a network of combinations, each strong enough to prevent mutual plundering. The united groups of manufacturers would be able to hinder extortion on the part of the extractional industries of coal and iron, and to compel the organisers of transport to charge only reasonable rates; but there would still be no power to regulate retail prices. The consumer would still be perfectly helpless. He is told to look to independent competition as the means of keeping prices at a proper level; but the “combine,” by charging low rates and looking to a large turnover for its profit, could create a state of things in which the people would be politically serfs and yet fresh capital would not be tempted to come in. Even if prices were main- tained at a high level, the prospects of a new competitor would not be brilliant, for he would have to face the hostility of a company already in possession of the field, fully equipped and well organised. The mere threat of a war of rates by the Coats Company brought the English Sewing Cotton Company to terms, although the latter had a capital of two and three-quarter millions; and not every new undertaking could command such an amount of money for a risky speculation. To fight the shipping rings would mean the creation of a new mercantile marine. The power of the purse can be used to buy out as well as to starve out a rival, and few men of business are so philanthropic as to prefer the bankruptcy court to being merged with a formidable opponent. The National Telephone Company bought up all the competing companies, and the shipping rings have either driven away the small lines which presumed to contest their monopoly or have compelled them to sell out. As little can any reliance be placed on foreign competition. Capital is international, and combinations started in one country soon stretch out friendly hands to similar organisations in other lands. The alliance between the Coats Company, the English Sewing Cotton Company, and the American Thread Company is a good illustration of what we may expect to be the next stage in industrial development, the exclusion of competition from the outside after it has been eliminated from the in- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 103 side. Several other British combinations possess factories abroad, and in this way a tendency towards the establishment of equivalent prices everywhere is stimulated. H.M. Consul at Diisseldorf, in reporting on the results of the Rhenish-Westphalian Coal Syndicate, adds: “The German coal-owners are long-sighted enough to see that it is desirable in the mutual interests of both that an English coal syndicate should be established on the same lines as have proved so successful in this district, for the simple reason that a reckless competition between them, 7. ¢., between England and Germany, has an injurious effect on both. Of course, in England, Wales, and Scotland co-operative action is rendered difficult by the number of coal districts to be united, but it has got to be done in one form or another.” Foreign competition in some cases may even overmaster the home producers and compel them to dance to a tune played abroad. This has been the fate of the Scottish paraffin-oil indus- try, where millions of money have been lost, although the founders made their fortunes. The Standard Oil Company with a cheap “low-flash”’ oil drove the higher-priced paraffin out of the market, and forced the Scot- tish makers to seek a scanty profit by turning a vast amount of ability and science to the utilisation of waste products like paraffin wax and lubricating oils, whose prices are fixed at the will of the great monopoly. Not much can be expected from the trade unions in the way of fighting monopoly; it will probably require all their energies and re- sourcefulness to maintain their standard of life against power used brutally as at Homestead, or against more subtle assaults in the intro- duction of machinery. It was an easy matter for the cotton-spinners to defeat the “cotton corner” by offering to work short time so that the employers might postpone their ordinary purchases and prevent prices from rising, but they would find a different foe in a corporation including all the master spinners—a combination which has been debated lately. Where the workpeople federated themselves with the employers, as in the Birmingham “alliances,” on the basis of being allowed to share in the plunder of the consumer, or on the basis of a limitation of output, as the Welsh coal-miners urged, we would have the most dangerous form of combination. It is the business of trade unions to look after the interests of the workpeople, about which other people usually concern themselves only in a spasmodic manner, and it is folly to ask them to undertake additional labours. If the con- sumer wants to be protected he must do his own protecting. To some extent he does that already through his co-operative societies, and where 104 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS they exist their members are secure from the yoke of retail monopolies. The ordinary reason for starting a store is the desire to be free from the exactions of the shopkeepers, and a similar reason has caused the stores to undertake the production of certain commodities of universal domestic demand. Refusal to join in the “flour corner” cost the English Whole- sale Society over £20,000, but it killed the “corner.” Flour-milling, however, is the only industry which has been undertaken co-operatively on a large scale, though successful beginnings have been made in many others. Even if we suppose all the retail business of the country to be carried on by co-operative stores, we cannot expect that they would undertake manufactures except of goods in domestic use, since for these alone would they have an ascertainable market. The clothing, food, and furnishing trades might be socialised in this way, and the building trade so far as the stores built houses by their own workmen for their members ; the textile trades for home production might also conceivably be included. But all the production for export, the iron, steel, and engineering industries, the transport industries, agriculture, and mining would remain outside the scope of co-operation. Perhaps an exception might be made in favour of agriculture and mining, for, although the results of previous experiments have not been brilliant, the English Wholesale Society has a roseate prospect of success on the Roden estate, and several northern societies, including the large Leeds Society, have for some time been considering the establishment of a co-operative colliery in Yorkshire. There are some further limitations of co-opera- tive effort. The great strength of the movement is in the highly organ- ised trade union districts of factory workers, where wages are reasonable and employment is fairly permanent. Among the very poor everywhere, the agricultural labourers, and the workers in large towns who shift about from place to place following their work, co-operation progresses very slowly, despite the vast amount of energy which is expended on propaganda, and these districts must approximate more closely to the factory districts in character before any signal success is achieved. Another limitation consists in the nature of co-operators themselves. Very many members do not look upon the movement as part of a great social reconstruction, and limit their interest to “divy-hunting” as an automatic system of thrift. The consequence is that committees are forced to attend more to the half-yearly balance-sheet than to the aims of the movement, and large purchases are made from private firms which sell a few pence cheaper than co-operative concerns. The manu- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 105 facturing activity of the Wholesale Societies is therefore strictly circum- scribed by the competition of the private undertaker, and the public utterances of their representatives are a constant appeal to “buy, buy, buy!” The very shrewd and cautious men who are at the head of the co-operative state do not believe in the speculative construction of fac- tories or in the locking-up of very large sums of money in stone and iron unless an assurance is given of a large and steady market for the produce. The Broughton cabinet-making factory was for a long time run at a loss owing to insufficient support from the societies, and there is not much desire to repeat the experience. It would seem as if the newer generation of co-operators had lost some of the eager enthusiasm of their forefathers; but the interest which the housing question has aroused during the last year shows that only a more persistent educative effort is required to awaken the old fervour. When full value has been allotted to what may be expected from voluntary attempts to withdraw production from private control, there still remains a wide field for the activity of that broader federation of individuals which we call the State. Nor have the opponents of trusts been slow to appeal to the legislative chambers for assistance. Unfor- tunately they have not sought to control the economic evolution, but to destroy it in the interests of competing individual traders, seeking to restore the waste of energy which combination prevents. Very many of the States of the American Union have passed laws directed at the formation of organisations of the original “trust” kind, which were characterised by the deposit of stock in the hands of governing trustees ; but though these measures have been successful in destroying the out- ward form, they have left the inward reality untouched. The Standard Oil Company was dissolved in this way in 1892, but the monopoly of petroleum went on unchecked. Neither the enforcement of the com- mon law against agreements “in restraint of trade” nor the invention of new penalties can prevent a private understanding among manufac- turers, or the fusion of a number of firms into one undertaking, or the crushing-out of small concerns by one large business. They can only hamper legitimate trading, like the Texas Anti-Trust Law, which, being specially directed against insurance companies with an arrangement for common tariffs, is driving that form of business out of the State. Owing to German competition and high prices affecting all industries using iron, a law was passed in Austria in 1899 prohibiting the formation of an iron “ring”; but it has never been enforced, and we have the un- 106 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS healthy spectacle of fictitious laws which bring law-making into con- tempt. The great bulk of Russian coal is produced by some score or so of owners, and the action of syndicates during 1899-1900 has been so mischievous in restricting output and raising prices that, according to a Foreign Office Report (No. 523, Commercial Series), “stern admin- istrative measures” have had to be taken. ‘At Warsaw wholesale dealers have been summarily ordered, under heavy penalties, not to keep prices above Ir. 15c, the korsec of 6 poods, while, it is said, seven- teen of the largest dealers have been placed under police supervision.” To Russia, therefore, must go the credit of the only effective anti-trust action; but the same report, it is fair to add, concludes that these meas- ures and the temporary remissions of import duties are only “temporary expedients not touching the heart of the matter.” Private monopoly is a public danger, and yet it cannot be undone by law; nor if it could would any economist recommend that the com- munity should abandon the most efficient method of production for a worse. The problem is, how to secure the benefits of combination without its disadvantages, and to this there is only one solution, the public ownership of monopolies. An arguable case can be made out for public ownership as against competition, but the consumer—and after all, consumers control politics—will not concern itself much about the evils of competition when employers are “good,” if an efficient service is assured to him thereby. But monopoly is a very dif- ferent matter. A people which has been trained by centuries of political freedom instinctively hates the domination of a few individuals; it may tolerate, grumblingly, the privileges of a single monopoly, like the rail- ways, but monopolies in every branch of industry are at once recognised as dangerous. When a monopoly becomes collective property its char- acter is entirely changed. Given a good system of administration and effective parliamentary control, and arbitrary conduct, which is the essence of tyranny, is impossible. Undue raising of prices or unjust treatment of employees would cause a political reaction against the gov- ernment responsible, and would therefore be avoided. Every person with a grievance would, being a voter, be able to secure a hearing of his case before the highest court of appeal in the land, and every real source of complaint would be remediable, even if slowly. Compare the Post Office with the railway companies before the institution of the Railway Commission. In the former case, notwithstanding the want of sufficient business ability and habits among the higher officials, postal rates have SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 107 been lowered and the position of the lower employees bettered ; while in the latter instance the complaints of traders were flouted and the eriev- ances of railway servants neglected. It is not pretended that the Post Office is in all respects a model institution; that it cannot be so long as the Treasury persists in regarding it as above all a revenue-producing and tax-saving machine, instead of one of the great arteries of com- merce. But that so much has been possible under the present regime is indicative of developments which may ensue when the business of the community is really conducted on business lines. The great public advantages of monopoly are that by eliminating competition it prevents over-production and crises, and restores stability to industry and permanence to employment. While monopolies are in private hands, the desire to make illicit profits by speculative trans- actions on the stock and produce exchanges acts as a disturbing factor which would disappear under communal ownership. Even under exist- ing conditions the transfer of one industry from private to public owner- ship has a regulative effect outside its own immediate sphere. By a law of 1885, the Swiss Federal Government has had, since 1887, a monopoly of spirituous liquors. The direct object of the law was to check the consumption of deleterious drinks, especially those distilled from potatoes, and a very large measure of success has been attained, while at the same time the results to the federal and cantonal treasuries have been highly satisfactory. The good effects have not stopped there. Previous to the creation of the State monopoly there were fourteen hundred and fifty distilleries, which were all abolished and replaced by seventy establishments allowed only to use native produce, the alcohol manufactured by them being bought by the State officers at rates en- abling remunerative prices to be paid to the farmers. “The abolition of existing distilleries, which for the most part were either too large to be supplied with raw material grown in the neighbourhood, whereby for- eign importation was encouraged, or too small to serve as a market for native produce, and the substitution of distilleries proportionate to the capacity of the district where their establishment was thought advisable, has benefited agriculture by affording a ready market whose demands are commensurate with the possible supply; while the refuse material forms a valuable manure, and, owing to the proper distribution of dis- tilleries, in sufficient quantities to meet the local requirements, whereas previously the supply was either in excess or inadequate, without any existing organisation to distribute it where needed.” 108 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS The applicability of State enterprise to any industry will depend on a number of circumstances, varying according to time and place. The chief of these is the degree of organisation to which the industry has attained. In conducting any branch of manufacture the State will certainly proceed on the co-operative principle of equating the supply to the ascertained demand, and the ease with which this can be done depends to a large extent upon the degree to which private ownership has already concentrated the management. Where the production of an article in general and steady use is in question, and one or two large companies have a monopoly of the trade, the transfer can be brought about with very little disturbance of the machinery. Some industries have already reached this stage of evolution; for example, Professor Ashley says, “We might even add that, in the case of the Standard Oil monopoly, the development has already reached a point at which, on the purely economic and administrative side, there could be little objec- tion to the Government taking over the business—if only there were a Government politically capable of the task.” If some of the new British combinations which have begun operations with 80 or 90 per cent. of the production in which they are engaged under their control continue to extend their operations, or even to maintain their position, we shall be able to include them in the same category. In France tobacco and matches are already nationalised, but for fiscal purposes, and are conse- quently run on the vicious principle of extracting the largest amount of profit for the smallest possible return. On the whole, it is plain that at any given time the industries of a country may be arranged in a rough kind of order according to their organisation, and in that order it is most likely that the State will seek to communalise them. At the head will be the most highly organised industries, and last of all will come such disorganised trades as the “home industries,” unless they are previously legislated out of existence, or those which from time to time are thrown into disorder by irregular caprices of fashion. Each successive step will be taken experimentally, and no move will be made which is at all likely to involve the community in pecuniary loss unless other counterbalancing advantages are gained. It is not conceivable, for example, that the silk or velvet industries, which are inflated or depressed according to the irresponsible decrees of the fashionable world as to what is or is not to be worn, should be nationalised before the already highly concentrated cotton or dyeing industries. The organisation of an industry under State management would SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 109 be very much what it is at present under, say, the Standard Oil Com- pany, or, still more closely, under the Co-operative Wholesale Societies. Through the retail selling departments in the various centres the trade of, say, the previous quarter would be-ascertained, and, the rate of growth being known from the comparative statistics of successive peri- ods, the probable demand for the ensuing quarter could be calculated. Arrangements for production would be based on this information, and could be from time to time corrected according as intermediate reports disclosed any abnormal increase or diminution of demand. This method is in everyday practice among hundreds of co-operative societies as well as in a countless number of manufacturing businesses standing in close relation to the retail trade. The government of an industry would also proceed on similar lines to those which individual ability has created. The most striking change would be the substitution of a State depart- ment for the board of directors, or rather, perhaps, the department would correspond to the managing directors, while the general board of men of wide business knowledge who function on many such boards and take part in the direction of many companies would be represented by Parliament. We would thus have in combination men of specialised expert knowledge, men with a general acquaintance with the business world, and men whose duty it was to safeguard the general interests of the community, all engaged in controlling the several national indus- tries. Beneath the supreme management everything would go on much as at present: there would be the same severance of staffs according to their duties, the same hierarchy of secretaries, managers, sub-managers, foremen, and soon. Half the criticism which is directed at the collecti- visation of industry would fall to the ground if it were clearly under- stood that it necessitates not so much changes in organisation as an alteration in the aims to which that organisation is to be directed. Writers of utopian fiction, with their dreams of industrial armies dis- ciplined in military manner, of successive grades of workers electing each other by secret ballot and one man one vote, or of an absence of order being order’s first law, have done much to discredit the cause of collectivism. The sober practice of democratic working-men gives no scintilla of support to any such topsy-turviness. There is no democracy in the world so free and equal as a co-operative society ; and that democ- racy having once elected its committee of management for the allotted period, leaves the whole administration in its hands. The committee conducts the business, and engages, promotes, or dismisses the work- 110 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS people. Representative government is the last word in industrial as in political democracy. Sir Robert Peel in a memorable phrase once spoke of “the torpid hands of the State;” Professor Ashley demands that the Government which takes over the Standard Oil Company shall be “politically ca- pable of the task.” The two phrases are closely connected. The hands of the State were torpid so long as the State was served by an incom- petent bureaucracy which jobbed and muddled and idled to an incredible extent. Forty years of good administration have to some degree eradi- cated the memories of the Circumlocution Office, but of late the public has been driven to conclude that much reform is still required. The first necessity is that an administrative staff should be trained for the functions which it has to perform; the second is that every man must bear a definite share of responsibility—there must always be “some one to hang.” These two conditions are necessary for efficiency even in a department where all the work is clerical, and they are absolutely indis- pensable wherever anything in the nature of production is concerned. What is required is not so much technical acquaintance with the par- ticular industry in question—that can be supplied by the manufact- . uring staff—but general knowledge of business affairs and a keen sympathy with the needs of the section of the community served by the department. Want of these qualities has made Government departments averse to innovation and slow to suit their methods to the changing requirements of the business world. As a matter of fact the public service, as we know it to-day, has not been organised to meet demands which have only been made upon it within the last couple of decades or so. Its traditions are derived from an obsolete political philosophy, and retain much of the individualism and feudal separation of classes which have elsewhere disappeared. Before nationalisation of industry can be carried out to any serious extent, the methods of admin- istration must be revised, and the higher officials must be drawn less from the universities and more from the same classes which at present run the industries of the country. Whether this will be done depends on the political capacity of the Government and of Parliament, and also, ‘it may be added, of the electorate. Politics must come to mean the supervision of the business of the country, and cease to be a party struggle regarded as an avenue to place or social position. The greatest obstacle to public control of industry is the want of political capacity on the part of our legislators. The House of Lords having before it a Com- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 11} panies’ Bill, proceeds to strike everything out of it which might deter titled guinea-pigs from becoming directors, heedless of the fact that this is exactly the result which the public, instructed by the Hooley revelations, desired to attain. For a brief moment Parliament was shocked by Lord Salisbury’s denunciation of Treasury control of public affairs, but no one remembered that exactly the same charges had been made and suggestions for reform put forward by Sir Robert Giffen in his evidence before the Royal Commission on Civil Establishments in 1888. Reform of the personnel of Parliament must precede any broad alteration of our industrial system. So far we have spoken simply of “the State,” but as a matter of fact “the State’ in this country is for administrative purposes a series of authorities related to each other in a complex manner. From one point of view the interest of all citizens in all part of the country may be regarded as identical; bad government in one locality is a danger to the whole community, and no nation can tolerate an Alsatia within its boundaries. Such considerations led the late Sir Edwin Chadwick to that policy of centralisation which he advocated with so much per- tinacity, and which has left so deep a mark on all the legislation brought forward under the zgis of his authority. Its advantages are many and conspicuous, but the necessity of providing for the varying needs of different localities, and the desirability of harnessing local knowledge and local patriotism to the administrative plough, have prevailed in _ extending the principle of the division of labour to government. We have consequently a series of local authorities rising one above the other, with wider spheres of activity, until we end in the supreme authority of Parliament, which is charged with the functions of provid- ing for the common needs of the nation and of harmonising the activities of the local governing bodies. The latter of these objects is pursued in a variety of ways. In poor-law matters a strict conformity to rules laid down by the central government is enforced ; in educational matters con- formity to similar rules is induced by grants of money dependent upon the attainment of a certain standard of excellence. The enforcement of the factory laws depends upon local tribunals, but the supervision of the regulations and the cofiduct of prosecutions is in the hands of in- spectors attached to the Home Office. Grants of money enable the central government to exert a good deal of pressure upon local author- ities ; municipalities may lose their police grant if the force is not in a proper state of efficiency, and London borough councils may be deprived 112 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS of the “equalisation grant” for neglect of their public-health duties. Recalcitrant school boards or boards of guardians may be dissolved and their functions transferred to commissioners; one local authority may be empowered to act for another, as the London County Council on de- fault by a metropolitan borough council; or factory inspectors may be directed to carry out the law in respect to workshops when municipal- ities neglect it. By the development of one or other of these methods the central government can exercise a still greater control over any extension of local activity. General laws, codes of regulations can be drawn up, on obedience to which might depend the grant of public money sufficient to bring up the standard of local comfort and efficiency to the general level. At present a large share of the produce of the death-duties is allocated to local authorities without any return being required, and this might very well be altered. Industries may be divided into local or national according as they respond to local or general needs. In any scheme of collectivisation the former would necessarily come under the management of the local authorities, the latter under the central government. Until we examine the details of municipal administration we are apt to ignore the extent to which we have already proceeded in municipalisation. The doings of the central government get reported in all the newspapers, but muni- cipal politics interest only a limited circle of people. A brief review will therefore be instructive, and all the more because the developments to be described have not been followed out in pursuance of any definite political philosophy, but because each step as it was taken was found to be advantageous to the citizens. The philosophy has come afterwards to correlate the different political phenomena. When municipal corporations were reformed, there was no suspi- cion in the mind of Parliament or of the municipalities that the manage- ment and ownership of public services would come to form the chief part of their activity. The Act of 1835 was passed in order to create bodies which would be able to control the new police force. Lighting and water supply were left to be provided by private companies, and even sanitation was considered to be the concern of the individual house- holder. The cholera, however, proved a wonderful educator, and grad- ually drainage, paving, and street lighting came to be regarded as the primary duties of municipalities. The provision of a sufficient supply of pure water was seen to be necessary to the public health. But gas and water companies had fixed themselves tightly on the towns, and it SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 113 became repugnant to the moral sense of the community that such neces- saries of life as light and water should be the monopoly of private indi- viduals, especially when the supply was in many cases seriously deficient. Thus began the “gas and water socialism” of our local authorities. The municipilisation of electricity was a natural corollary to municipal gas. Public baths and cemeteries were found to be neces- sary to the care for the public health. To-day the capital expended in England and Wales on water-works amounts to nearly forty-eight millions and a half, on gasworks over twenty millions, on baths a million and a half, on cemeteries over a million, on electric lighting nearly three millions and a half. Works for the disposal of sewage also became a public necessity, and are responsible for the expenditure of a large amount of money. Some of these undertakings are of a gigan- tic character. Glasgow derives its water supply from Loch Katrine at a cost of three millions; Liverpool has spent two million one hun- dred thousand pounds in converting a Welsh valley into a lake and bringing water from it through a canal seventy-seven miles long; Manchester has secured an abundant supply from Thirlmere for an expenditure which will run up to four or five millions ; and Birmingham is in course of expending nearly seven millions in introducing a supply from Wales. Towns exist in order that, amongst other reasons, business may be carried on in them, and the citizens have naturally, therefore, set about to provide facilities for conducting business. The care of the streets is an elementary part of a corporation’s duties, and as towns grew in size it was felt that the provision of cheap and comfortable means of transit was equally within the scope of municipal activity. This service was also at first entrusted to companies, but with an important difference. No municipality can run a municipal water or gas supply in competition with a company already in the field; and if it is proposed to buy out the company, a private Act of Parliament must be obtained, and heavy compensation paid. When the Tramways Act of 1870 was passed, power was given to municipalities obtaining a pro- visional order from the Board of Trade to construct tramways, and no private line could be built without the consent of the local governing body. But no municipality could work the tramways it had built; it must lease them to a company for twenty-one years, at the expiry of which time they could be taken over by the municipality at their “then value” if built by the company, free of all compensation for compulsory 8) 114 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS sale, and worked by the local authority. So great an objection existed in Parliament to municipal working of tramways that down to 1896 a standing order prohibited the introduction of any bill having the object of empowering local authorities to run tramways. The change in the attitude towards municipalisation is also shown by the Electric Light- ing Acts of 1882 and 1888, which from the beginning permitted the fullest freedom to municipal action. The capital invested in municipal tramways is about three millions and a quarter. The provision of a ferry service on rivers is closely akin to the provision of bridges, and Glasgow and Birkenhead, for example, own ferry-boats, while London has a free ferry at Woolwich. All trade used to be done in markets, and the city market is probably the oldest municipal institution. Piers, quays, and harbours are equally necessities of trade, and together with — markets they account for some nine and a half million pounds. Munici- pal slaughter-houses come under the category of trade facilities, but the public health is the real reason for their institution. There is, however, no doubt about the classification of the test-house for wool maintained by Bradford. Many of the pleasure towns contribute to the attractive- ness which is their main support: the seaside towns by owning piers; Chester and Doncaster by owning racecourses; Bath, Harrogate, and Leamington by maintaining the medicinal springs and their appurten- ances; Blackpool by spending large sums in advertisements. Nowhere has private enterprise so completely broken down as in the supply of houses for the people. The combination of monopoly in urban land and perfect freedom to the builder has ended in jerry-built houses and overcrowding. The failure is indisputable, it is openly admitted by every one; such facts as that a hundred and twenty thou- sand people in Glasgow live in one room per family proclaim it aloud. Nor is there any doubt as to the remedy. Since Glasgow began its great clearance scheme in 1866, it has become every year more apparent that the municipalities alone are capable of undertaking the enormous task of housing. Not only must houses be built for the increase of population, but’also for the people to be cleared out from the slums we © have inherited from private enterprise. The central authority in Lon- don has spent two and a half millions in clearances and housing, and at least ten millions have been spent in the United Kingdom on these objects. The real difficulty is how to build fast enough, and how to rehouse the people expelled from the slums; for at present the sad fact is that they go to create other slums, while the new houses are inhab- SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 115 ited by a higher grade of workers. When it is fully recognised, and the law is based on that recognition, that each town or village or country district is responsible for the proper housing of the people resident therein, then but not till then will it be possible to wipe away this blot on our civilisation. Owing to the great lack of good sanitary houses, the Government might grant to a district for additional building a sum equal to what the local authority was spending. Certain consequences will necessarily follow. Each town must be its own landlord. The steady pouring of unearned increment into the pockets of the proprie- tors of urban lands must cease; land values must be municipalised by taxation. Further, each town must become its own builder. Munici- palities have discovered other monopolies besides the “‘natural’’ ones of gas and water; it was a “contractors’ ring” which first caused the Lon- don County Council to start its much-abused Works Department. Whatever defects have come to light while municipal building has been in its experimental stage, they can be more than matched by the defects of contract work; while nothing worse in bricks and mortar is con- | ceivable than the rows of “desirable suburban residences” run up to sell for the creation of ground-rents. Combining municipal housing with a cheap or free service of communication by tramway or railway, we can look forward to the relief of congested town districts by the creation of villages or small towns in the surrounding country, thereby indirectly contributing something towards a solution of that other great problem of modern life, the depopulation of the rural districts. All of these branches of activity thus lightly sketched originate from the failure of private enterprise in the shape of private monopoly, from insufficient supply and extortionate charges. A further develop- ment of municipal trading arises from the utilisation of the waste prod- ucts of town life. Sewage is converted into manure; the establishment of sewage-farms leads to a trade in grass, to municipal market-gardens, or to municipal dairy-farms; street refuse, when burnt, is made into paving-blocks, and so on. Another branch of trading is the supply of water fittings or electric fittings ancillary to the municipal water or electricty supply ; and it is curious that this comparatively small matter should at this late hour of the day have incited private traders to a crusade against municipal trading, destined to be as successful as the great war of the Scottish shopkeepers against co-operative stores. Much debate has raged around the question whether municipalities should make a profit out of their undertakings or not. The matter is 116 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS one of degree only. Co-operative experience shows us that it is not possible to sell at cost price exactly; something extra must be charged and returned afterwards to the consumer. This is generally the prac- tice of municipalities. The natural tendency will be to work services as near to their cost as possible; yet the various municipal services should be regarded not as separate undertakings, but as different departments of the business of running a municipality. From this point of view it will often be expedient to make a profit on one branch in order that the business may be extended in another direction—a very ordinary com- mercial principle. The net profit on reproductive municipal undertak- ings in England and Wales is £3,613,000 on a total capital expediture of £88,152,000; and in addition the price of gas, water, tramway jour- neys, etc., has been in most cases much reduced since the private com- panies were bought out. This surplus is usually applied in the reduction of rates, thereby indirectly providing a fund for future municipalisation. How far profits should be applied to lowering the price of the profitable commodity, or to the reduction of the general rate, or to the carrying out of some other object of common advantage, will entirely depend upon local circumstances, no general principle can be laid down. Every householder can use as much water as he pleases, and he pays not according to what he uses, but according to his ability; gas consumers, on the other hand, pay for what they use; and this diversity of treat- ment can be justified on the ground that the public health requires that every inducement should be given for the abundant use of water. Simi- larly, the necessities of a large town might very well demand that tram- ways should be free as the roads are. It may even be advantageous for a town to undertake a work which is a charge on the rates, on the ground that it is necessary to the welfare of the city ; and for this reason Bristol is building docks and Manchester has made large investments in its ship canal. One thing must be guarded against: that the pro- vision of some municipal service is not indirectly converted into a rate in aid of wages and transferred into the pockets of the landlords or employers. This has happened when tramways have been cheapened or extended, and rents have risen in consequence; and if the municipal houses were let, as it is often suggested, below the market rate, employ- ers would be induced either to reduce or not to raise wages. Here, as in many other ways, we see that the intervention of the community in private enterprise must inevitably lead to further intervention. Many towns have carried municipalisation almost to the extreme SOCIAL MOVEMENTS ! 147 limit which public opinion at present approves. In Glasgow, for example, all the ordinary services are municipalised, except the ceme- teries. What industries will be next seized upon? The recent high price of coal has been a matter of gravity to those towns which run their own gasworks. In Manchester and Glasgow there are 500,000 tons of coal consumed annually in the gasworks of each town. There- fore the Gas Committee of the Manchester Town Council is consider- ing a proposal to buy a coal mine of its own, and the Glasgow Town Council has only by a narrow majority rejected a similar suggestion. This is an obvious outlet for municipal activity, and we shall certainly hear more of it. The extension of municipal housing, with the ulti- | mate conversion of the building trades into a municipal department, has already been mentioned. Next in order come, probably, the drink traf- fic, and the supply of bread, milk, and coals. Municipalisation of the drink trade will probably be undertaken partly for moral reasons, as with the Swiss alcohol monopoly, partly in order to eradicate from public life a pernicious political influence. Milk is proving such a dan- gerous medium for the spread of disease, and the difficulties of super- vising the sanitary conditions of farms situated in other governing districts are so great, that these hygienic reasons will soon force munici- palities, for the sake of their infant population, to provide their own milk supply. The baking trade is beset with combinations at every stage of the industry ; and whatever else may be left to individual enter- prise, the supply of the necessaries of life must not be exposed to the chances of industrial development. The same is largely true of the coal trade, which is above all others subject to vicissitudes of price. When -the poor, who must buy their coal in small quantities, have to pay at the rate of forty shillings and upwards per ton, it is time for some public authority to step in. Some scattered cases of municipalisation in these industries can even now be adduced to show the ease with which munici- palisation can be achieved. Birmingham has a municipal canteen at the navvies’ village on its aqueduct works, which is very successful. The mining village of Hill of Beath in Fifeshire has had a municipal public- house for four years, and the experiment is being repeated with good results at Grayshott in Hants and elsewhere. Birmingham draws £4,500 per annum from the sale of milk at the dairy-farm in connection with its sewage-works. The Vooruit and other large co-operative bakeries show how well suited that industry is for centralised management, while Grenoble has achieved the more difficult task of running a munici- pal restaurant. 118 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS No British municipality has ever retraced one single step it has taken in the paths of municipalisation, and the natural monopolies which have been annexed have always been protected against a competitive service. In 1899 an attempt was made to break down this principle by the General Power Distributing Bill, which proposed to give a private company power to supply electricity in competition with municipalities Over an area of two thousand square miles in the middle of England. The specious pretext was put forward that electricity could be distrib- uted more cheaply in bulk from works at the pit’s mouth, but neverthe- less the company refused to supply Nottingham with current at the same price at which the city could produce it. So far this attack on municipal trading has been defeated. It is not necessary, however, that a municipality should always have a monopoly at first. It may be cheaper to compete than to buy out an over-capitalised concern, and this is the course which the Government is adopting with the National Tele- phone Company. Similarly with extensions of municipal enterprise: the first step in some cases may be to start municipal undertakings in competition with the private concerns, with a view of winning support for the project by the example of an efficient service. One important result of municipal trading which is generally over- looked may be here pointed out—the increase in public honesty. In America individualism and private enterprise are rampant, and The Economist can say (14th July, 1900) “municipal corruption has attained to its full height in America.” On the other hand, Mr. Harri- son, the ex-Chairman of the Edinburgh Chamber of Commerce, con- fesses, “I desire to bear strong and emphatic testimony to the high level of work and high level of character which the town councils of this country have shown since their reform sixty years ago. There are always too many scandals in private trading, the history of joint-stock enterprise tells not a few stories of incompetence and dishonesty, but I do not know of any very flagrant case in which a town council has been proved dishonest to its trust.” Turning to the work of the central government, it must first of all be pointed out that all taxation, like all municipal rating, is so much nationalisation. A portion of the income of private individuals is appro- priated and applied to the objects of national policy; in this way it is returned in another form to the taxpayers. For the purposes of public defence and other functions with which it is entrusted, the Government requires to have a large amount of supplies and a large amount of work SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 119 done, and these services it can obtain either through its own workmen or from private contractors. In so far as it adopts the former course, it, like a municipality in a similar case, carries one step further that elimination of subordinate agents in production which is one of the characteristic features of modern industry. The productive work of the Government as manufacturer is large and varied. The Dockyard Bill for wages is well over two millions yearly, and for material over a million and a half. The Royal Ordnance Factories have an output exceeding three millions, and the Army Clothing Factory of nearly two hundred and eighty thousand pounds. Government workmen execute new works and repairs to the value of some £700,000, and in the Navy victualling yards the “State” grinds flour, oatmeal, coffee, pepper, and mustard, salts beef and suet, and makes chocolate, scantling, casks, and hair-beds. On the other hand, contractors’ bills are very heavy :—pro- visions, £2,400,000; forage, £520,000; clothing, £1,100,000; furniture, £74,000; coals for Navy, £864,000; fuel, light, and household articles, £560,000; shipbuilding, £3,500,000; armaments, £2,000,000; new works and repairs, £1,550,000; telegraph materials, £200,000; postage stamps, £186,000 ; conveyance of mails, etc., £3,150,000; cloth, etc., £640,000. Not only is there plenty of scope for an extension of the Govern- ment manufacturing departments, but it closely concerns the safety of the country that that extension should take place. The great Engineer- ing Dispute seriously delayed the shipbuilding programme; the Welsh Coal Strike caused the postponement of the naval manceuvres. Said the Iron and Steel Trades Journal, under the heading, “A Government Col- liery Wanted”: “Having a navy and national establishments which have cost a thousand millions, it is an anomaly that some poverty-stricken col- liery companies and the ‘poor colliers’ should, by stopping the supply of fuel, be able, whenever they please, to place this country at the mercy of its enemies. We write ‘poverty-stricken colliery companies,’ well knowing that many very wealthy firms and some rich companies are engaged in the coal trade, but the chain is not stronger than its weak- est link, and it is there in commerce as in mechanics the danger lies. The abandonment of the autumn manceuvres is dictated by common prudence. Will the First Lord of the Admiralty go further and say that prudence demands the establishment of Government collieries, which being manned above and below ground by Her Majesty’s ser- vants, will not be amenable to strikes, and will therefore always be raising coal for our ships, dockyards, and Government factories?” 120 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS Strikes, after all, are of infrequent occurrence, and a more serious statement was made by Mr. Goschen in his “Statement Explanatory of the Navy Estimates, 1900-1”: ‘The abnormal activity in shipbuilding and engineering, which was described in the ‘Statement’ of last year, has continued during 1899-1900, and has seriously affected progress and expenditure on ships, machinery and armour. Delays in delivery of material, differences in securing adequate numbers of workmen, and other circumstances, have caused the aggregate earnings on contract work to fall short of the estimated amount by about £1,400,000, though the estimate was carefully calculated on the basis of actual earnings in past years on ships of similar character, and on very close investiga- tions of the possible output of armour.”’ When the nation’s work cannot be done because trade is so prosperous, because manufacturers are so busy with private orders and with war-ships for foreign powers, then surely “prudence demands” that more Government factories shall be built. “It becomes a matter for serious consideration whether there should not be created an establishment for the manufacture of armour- plates solely for the dockyards, thereby relieving the makers of armour from the pressure which places private shipbuilders at a great disad- vantage on Government contracts.” Professor Ashley has made a valuable suggestion as to one method by which the way may be prepared for collectivisation of industry. “TI see nothing for it,” he says, “but that in countries where the monopo- lising movement is well under way, the Governments should assume the duty of in some way controlling prices. The principle of public determination of maximum rates and maximum dividends has already been recognised in various countries in various directions; and it will doubtless have to be carried a good deal further. But before this can be done with any chance of tolerable success, any country which thinks of attempting it must provide itself with a fairly efficient administrative service.” We already have railway rates and fares controlled to some extent by the Railway Commission; gas dividends have a maximum limit; and charges for electricity are subject to review by the Board of Trade. The Chambers of Commerce have repeatedly demanded that no mail subsidies should be granted to shipping companies which charge preferential rates against British traders, and this is a request which might very well be conceded. At present the home and colonial Gov- ernments pay about a million a year to enable the firms which own our mercantile marine to give a bounty to foreign manufacturers. SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 121 The fixing of rates and charges by a public department is only a temporary expedient, which, in the case of British railways, has con- spicuously failed to secure justice. To quote a railway expert, Mr. Acworth: ‘For every shilling cut by an expeditious tribunal off a rate, it is easy for the railway companies, if they are agreed to act in har- mony with each other, to withdraw two shillings’ worth of facilities; and the traders may make up their minds that this is what must inev- itably happen if the railway companies are confronted with lower rates simultaneously with a rapid rise of working expenses. Assume that your tribunal can fix a reasonable rate, what is the use of it unless it can schedule to its judgment a minute specification of the quality of service to, be given retumn) for the rater) wy hey railways) cart bring down troops of expert witnesses. How can the tribunal refuse to hear them, when every student of railway economics knows that the reasonableness of each particular rate depends not merely on its own individual circumstances, but on a comparison with all the other rates and a consideration of the company’s entire business? But for a farmer or shopkeeper, with the assistance, possibly, of the local attorney, to undertake to fight trained railway experts with a lifetime’s experience and with every fact and figure at their fingers’ end, is only to court defeat.””’ The only remedy in such a case is national ownership, and the monopoly of transport will probably be the first great monopoly to be taken over by the British Government, which in this instance will follow well behind many continental and colonial governments. No better proof can be found of the way in which public opinion is matur- ing on this subject than a resolution passed at the annual meeting of ~the British Iron Trade Association on 13th June, 1900, asking for the appointment of a Royal Commission to take into consideration whether it would not be for the advantage of the trade and commerce of the country, and ultimately for the benefit of the State in its financial rela- tions, that the railways should become national property, especially in view of the threatened increase of industrial competition from Ger- many, the United States of America, and other countries in which rail- way transport is run on different lines and carried on under different conditions. The President, Sir John J. Jenkins, M. P., estimated that 10 per cent of the gross annual return might be saved by the State through economies of management. Coal is as much of a necessity to commerce as railways, and, as Sir George Elliot has shown, is admir- ably adapted to central management. We may therefore expect that 122 SOCIAL MOVEMENTS nationalisation of the railways and mines will precede the collectivisa- tion of the other industries. Much has already been said about the dishonesty and recklessness which disgrace much of modern commerce and corrupt the national life. It bodes no good to the community that the advance towards the monopolisation of industry is accompanied by the wiles of the company- promoter. The purification of commercial life is of the greatest import- ance. Everything which raises the moral tone will facilitate reform by increasing the national impatience with industrial exploitation and tyranny. Good morals in their turn will produce good economics, and the destruction of dishonest forms of gain will make competition still more unprofitable. In another way the State can do much to hasten industrial develop- ment. The State has had to step in and remedy the breakdown of apprenticeship by providing a system of technical instruction; it must go farther and substitute a system of scientific research for reliance on sporadic invention as a means of improving industry. At present the adoption of a new process as an improvement in machinery is—except in those large firms which maintain a scientific staff—left entirely to the hazard of the casual inventor succeeding, before he is starved out, in getting some capitalist to exploit him. And when an invention is taken up it is not made common to a whole industry, but is strictly pre- served like game for private profit. A new industrial process is as much a fit subject for governmental study as a new gunpowder, and the State ought systematically to undertake the improvement of industry, prosecuting invention in its own laboratories and workshops—its manu- facturing departments—especially when extended as proposed, afford- ing ample means for experiment. An indirect but important conse- quence would be the elimination of the tendency to sterilisation of initiative and the inventive faculties—if it exists at all—which is alleged to be inherent in State management of industry. Foreign trade is supposed always to be the rock on which a col- lectivised industry would break to pieces, but acquaintance with the working of combinations casts some doubt on this confident prediction. The German export trade in steel rails could not exist except through the co-operation of the “pool” formed by the chief producers of coal, pig-iron, steel rails, and the owners of blast-furnaces. A subsidy is levied on the members to form a fund out of which exporters are reim- bursed for the difference between the selling price obtained and the SOCIAL MOVEMENTS 123 cost of production as fixed by the “pool.” The manufacture of an increased quantity of steel, which this practice makes possible, reduces the general cost of production and enhances the profits from home sales. The great Coats monopoly again has no difficulty in deriving the greater part of its profits from its foreign trade. Mr. E. J. Smith, writing of his “alliances,” says: “Combinations should trade abroad as combinations, not as individual firms. In each large town where single traders keep their showrooms, warehouses, and agents, heaping up expenses which either lessen profit or prevent sales, there should be one showroom, one warehouse, one general agent, lessening expenses, and providing an exhibition of articles much more imposing and attractive than any single firm can support.” From these and many other facts it would appear that a Government department would not be without its advantages in conducting foreign trade. 124 SOCIAL CONDITIONS ROBERT SOMERS RoBERT SOMERS was born in Scotland September 14, 1822. He was early a well known lecturer on social and political questions. He became editor of the Edinburgh weekly Scottish Herald about 1844, then assist- ant editor to Hugh Miller of the Witness, and in 1847 took a place on the staff of the North British Daily Mail. From 1849 to 1859 he was editor of the Mail, and for the next eleven years of the Morning Journal. He traveled in the Southern States in 1870-1, and his work gives a fair view of the conditions there after the war. He died July 7, 1891. THE SOUTH AFTER THE WAR THE LAND QUESTION IN VIRGINIA [RicHMonpD, VA., Oct. 26 to Nov. 23.] The land question is the absorbing question in Virginia. How to get the estates formerly productive again brought into cultivation—how to attract settlers of a superior class from England and Scotland, who would take their place in Virginian society as landowners and give a fresh impulse to the work of improvement going on—how to fertilise the soil and increase and improve the farm stock—how to turn the woods, the mines, the beds of marl, the streams and waterfalls, the fruits and game, and all the abundance of nature to productive account, and so fill with new blood the wasted frame of the old Commonwealth, occupies the minds of all classes with an intensity of interest to which no other public concern can be compared. The first question asked of SOCIAL CONDITIONS 125 a stranger is whether he has come to look at land. I was not three minutes in Richmond till a pushing Irishman offered to sell me a very fine milch cow and calf on the spot, or tell me where I could get a nice bit of land on very economical terms. But the stranger who is land- ward-bound is not left to such chance means of information. There are dozens of respectable estate agents, every one of whom has lists of farms and estate for sale which he advertises in the newspapers, and offers in fee-simple at a rate per acre that in England or Scotland, or even Ireland, would be deemed but a moderate annual rent, and pay- ment of which he is willing to take in cash just enough to pay the expenses of suit, with the balance in instalments spread over three or four years. Every one of them states in private that he has even more lands on his list for sale than he advertises. Nor is this all. The State of Virginia has appointed a Board of Emigration, composed of gentle- men of the highest standing and reputation, with General Richardson, the Adjutant-General of the State, as secretary, whose sole object is to guide and assist, by every kindly office, persons from abroad wishing to invest a little capital and settle on the soil of Virginia. I might fill pages with a description of farms and plantatlons, and lots, large and small, of land that are thus in the market. But I shall only mention a few particulars from a list presented to me by General Richardson. To show the great variety of choice, as regards situation for example, some of these farms and estates are in the immediate neighbourhood of -Richmond, some are in Roxbridge county, some in Orange county, oth- ers in Culpeper county, Chesterfield county, King William county, Louisa county, James City county, New Kent county, and so on. One is a tobacco plantation in Fluvanna, one of the most famous tobacco counties in Virginia. In the county of Orange there is an estate of 6,000 acres of improved land, with several dwelling-houses on it, the purchaser of which could make a large home-farm for himself, and have besides half a dozen or even a dozen farm tenants. The lands are “very fertile, and suited to grass.” The purchase-money of this estate would be taken in instalments, spread over ten years if necessary. There are also many small farms, and lots of 20 to 50 acres. The high- est price asked for any of these lands, which are improved, is 4/. per acre. One estate of 800 acres, “land good, with abundance of green- sand marl only four feet below the surface,” could be bought for fifteen dollars an acre. Among the number there are “2,000 acres of unde- veloped coal lands.” Land rights are carefully registered and guarded 126 SOCIAL CONDITIONS in Virginia, and there is seldom any difficulty in tracing a clear title back through a long period of years. To understand the avalanche of land bargains at present in Vir- ginia, one has to remember that before the war the soil was owned chiefly by slaveholders, who had large estates which they never fully cultivated, but on which they shifted their crops about from one place to another, and who, finding themselves with plenty of money and little trouble under this system, allowed their overseers and the slave-dealers to settle all the hard matters between them. At the close of the war, when the slaves became free, it is easy to perceive that with no means left to cultivate such large tracts of land under the new conditions, it became a necessity, as well as the best thing the owners could do, to sell large portions of their estates, and to retain just as much as they had capital and labour to cultivate; and this they have done and are doing to some extent. In many other cases, proprietors, not rich save in land before the war, have since become embarrassed, and, falling into debt and arrears of taxes, have had decrees passed against them in the courts, under which sales are ordered to proceed. There have been instances also of gentlemen “slain in battle,” or driven from the coun- try, or flying from it in despair, and of every form of vicissitude and ruin that follows in the train of war and social revolution. The conse- quence is that a large proportion of the landed property of a great and long settled State is literally going a-begging for people to come and take it. The like has seldom been seen before. The deluge of encum- bered estates in Ireland was nothing compared to it, for the land in Ireland, when brought to sale under a Parliamentary title, readily com- manded purchasers at good prices. Yet there are no agrarian murders in Virginia. Nor is it a new and undeveloped country, where every element of civilization has to be introduced, but an old land of renown, where law and order prevail and every social comfort may be enjoyed. There is hardly any part of Virginia where a settler on the soil would not only find towns and markets, and roads and railways, but have as his neighbours gentlemen who are no mean agriculturists, who are versed in all the science of husbandry, many of them breeders of the rarest and finest stock, and deeply imbued with the spirit of agricultural progress and improvement. THE RAcE QUESTION IN SOUTH CAROLINA Charleston—‘“‘old Charleston,” fondly so called by its citizens—that SOCIAL CONDITIONS 127 has braved “the battle and the breeze,” if not a thousand, a good hun- dred years—the centre of Carolinian trade and commerce, the centre always of strong political emotion, and the centre also where the negro element was densest and negro slavery was intrenched as in a stronghold alike by fear and interest—is getting slowly, but surely, on its legs again from the downfall inflicted by the war. Never had a completer ruin fallen upon any city than fell upon Charleston in the years from 1860 to 1865. Her planters who, with noble country seats on the banks of pleasant streams, amid groves of live oaks affording deep shade from the summer sun, could afford to have their winter residences here in town, were reduced, as by the grinding of a nether millstone, from affluence to poverty—ner merchants were scattered to the four winds of heaven—her shopkeepers closed their doors, or contrived to support a precarious existence on contraband of war—her young men went to die on the battlefield or in the military prisons of the North—her women and children, who could, fled to the country. The Federal Government, mindful of Fort Sumter and the first indignity to the Union flag, kept Charleston under close blockade, and added to its miseries by occasional bombardments. When this process in five years had reached the last stage of exhaustion, and the military surrender gave practical effect to emancipation, the negroes in the country parts, following up the child- like instinct of former days that Charleston was the El Dorado of the world, flocked into the ruined town, and made its aspect of misery and desolation more complete. The streets were empty of all but them- selves; the houses had not only lost all their bright paint without, but were mostly tenantless within; many fine mansions, long deserted, were fast mouldering into decay and ruin; and the demand for labour and the supply of provisions were at the lowest point. Seldom, with a deeper ruin of the old, has there been a more hopeless chaos out of which to construct a new order of things than Charleston presented in those days. Yet the process of amelioration has year by year been going steadily forward. Many of the old merchants of the city, and many active agents of exchange, both new and old, have come to put the wheels of trade once more in motion. Some of the old planters have also survived, and are seen, though in diminished numbers and with saddened countenances, yet with the steady fire of Anglo-Saxon cour- age in their eyes, attending to affairs like men determined to conquer fortune even in the depths of ruin and on the brink of the grave; while others, not so much to be respected, unwilling to work and ashamed to 128 SOCIAL CONDITIONS beg, seek to maintain some remnant of the ancient dignity no one knows how. The quays and wharves are busy; new ones, to meet new branches of trade, have been built with files of counting-rooms to suit; the cotton presses are again at work; lorries laden with the staple prod- ucts of the interior pour the livelong day along the streets towards the river; revival is extending from the business parts of the town to the quiet quarters of private residence; and the hotels, always of the first consideration in America, are already, with their stately colonnades of white pillars, their freshly painted fronts, and their troops of polished waiters of various hues of ebony, magnificent in Charleston. I went down one evening to the Battery, an esplanade at the seaward end of the peninsula, formed by the Cooper and Ashley rivers, on which Charles- ton is built—not of great compass, seeing that the embouchure of the two rivers here draws the land to a narrow point, but beautiful and refreshing, looking out on the spacious bay direct to Fort Sumter and the far Atlantic, and calling up associations of the Spanish Main and the West Indies, the distant British Islands, and of naval and historic glory, at the crowding thoughts of which the heart of every English- speaking man leaps to his mouth. Though Charleston, like other cities, has its West End—as I have seen from the tower of the Orphan Asy- lum, a noble institution which the war has left in full vigour—where goodly houses along stretching avenues of trees, and ample garden grounds, afford a happy and elegant retreat to prosperous men of busi- ness, yet there is reason enough why the Battery should be a point of peculiar eminence and fashion in Charleston. The residences around the esplanade—palaces in their way—after long neglect, are under- going rapid renovation. I am told that, apart from the “nabobs” who live in these charming marine villas, the Battery in ante-war times was the resort every evening of a long array of carriages, in which fair ladies reclined, and happy gentlemen cooled themselves after the heat and toil of the day. The only equipage I saw was the handsome buggy of a dry goods man from the North, who is rather liked for the spirit he displays. But the ladies of Charleston meantime take a constitu- tional walk on the Battery with their babies and nurses, and the gentle- men say the carriages will come again in due time. ; Such is the hopeful uprising of commercial progress in Charleston just now. But the old town has much to recover. In the winter of 1862 a calamity more destructive and terrible than all the Federal bom- bardments befell the devoted city. A fire broke in some negro shanty SOCIAL CONDITIONS 129 on the Cooper river, and favoured by the wind, spread and swept down all before it in a curious zigzag but generally straight line through the centre of the town, till stopped by the Ashley river on the other side. This appalling conflagration, the desolation and misery caused and the hospitality evoked by which, amidst all the troubles of the war, cannot be described, still leaves its mark, like the course of a caterpillar that has eaten its way over a cotton leaf, upon the city of Charleston. Fires, once sprung, must propagate here with fearful rapidity. A large pro- portion of the side streets of Charleston are built of wood. The houses are simply frame erections. They are all dry as tinder, and airy as they can be made. An accidental spark or flame which in our British towns would be instantly smothered by the damp atmosphere, the stone walls, the dense fogs, and the absence of sun and ventilation, is here fraught sometimes with alarming consequences. Not the slightest suspicion of incendiarism rested upon the great Charleston fire of 1862. The negro is not given to the folly of setting his house on fire to roast an egg for somebody else to eat; and such is the power of discipline and habit over. him, that he continues, save on election nights or other periods of great excitement, to turn into bed at the early hour in the evening prescribed to him by a sort of curfew law in the days of slavery. The question asked when one surveys the vast ruin caused by this fire is, What became of the insurance companies? The insurance companies of the South? The war soon rendered their position untenable. The number of persons caring to insure rapidly diminished, and as the destruction of fire and sword spread wider and wider, the companies went down by the board, till the whole insurance capital of the Southern States, and all the interests centred around it, shrivelled up like a scroll and disap- peared. One must go to Charleston in order to hear all the ruin of the war summed up in good round emphatic English. Any old merchant citizen will reckon on his fingers what the war lost of property, capital, and substance of every kind to the South. First, the property in negroes, which, whether property in right reason and natural equity or not, was introduced under the sway of England, was recognised by the Constitution of the Republic, was protected by the laws of the United States, and was to all material intents and purposes as essentially prop- erty in the South as anything elsewhere which makes profit and can be bought and sold ;—this property was abolished, and was four hundred millions sterling. The whole banking capital of the South, which can- not be estimated at less than two hundred millions more, was swamped X. 9. 130 SOCIAL CONDITIONS in the extinction of all profitable banking business, and, finally, in a residuary flood of worthless Confederate money. The whole insurance capital of the South—probably a hundred millions more—also perished. The well organized cotton, sugar, and tobacco plantations, mills, fac- tories, coal and iron mines, and commercial and industrial establish- ments, built up by private capital, the value of which in millions of pounds sterling cannot be computed—all sank and were engulfed in the same wave. Every form of mortgage claim, with the exception of two or three proud State stocks, shared for the time being the fate of the principal, and only now crops up amidst the subsiding deluge like the stumps of a submerged forest. And so on the account goes as long as the fingers hold out, till the demonstration made is that the South by the war was peeled to the bone, and left not only without a cent in its pocket, but without anything by which a cent could be made, save the rude but productive land and the bright sun, powerful indeed as nat- ural germs of wealth and prosperity, but needing, to give them vitality, more capital and labour, more invention and ingenuity, more of every- thing which it seemed most difficult to supply. Terrible though the picture of ruin and impoverishment be, as thus drawn here in Charles- ton, I suspect it is in the main true of the whole South, and the marvel must be that affairs should already be so lively, so hopeful and elastic, as they everywhere appear. It was to be expected that the young men would enter upon business with fresh life and energy ; but more remark- able than they are the men of advanced life who, still on the top of the wave, are guiding and controlling by their experience the new order of things. Charleston, like Boston—for a good comparison there is nothing like the antipodes—has an English look about it. The old city has not fallen so mathematically into the parallelogram formation as the cities of the United States in general. The inhabitants still cast many a fond look towards the old country, and contrast the present misrule with the time when the laws of England were the laws of South Carolina. Such is the deep sense of change and revolution produced by the downfall of State Rights and the inroad of Federal power and innovation, that they profess not to know what the laws of South Carolina now are, or whether she has any laws at all. Ask what the system of rule is, and the reply will uniformly be that it is “nigger rule,” which is in one sense true. The negroes are more numerous than the whites in South Caro- lina. Being all citizens of the United States, they have all the right of SOCIAL CONDITIONS 131 voting, while many of the whites are not naturalized; and the War Radicals who came in to take the lead in political affairs, and to hold offices for which the prominent men of the State were disqualified by the test oath, have succeeded in controlling the negro vote, and casting it almost en masse in their favour at the polls. There not being “carpet- baggers” or “scallowags”’ enough in the State to fill all the seats in the Legislature, the negroes have largely returned men of their own race to watch over “laws and learning,” “‘ships, colonies, and commerce,” at the Capitol. The House of Representatives consists of 80 coloured men and 44 whites, and the Senate of 11 coloured men and 20 whites— there being one seat vacant just now. The white people of South Caro- lina are thus practically disfranchised, and a proletariat Parliament has been constituted, the like of which could not be produced under the widest suffrage in any part of the world save in some of these Southern States. The outcry of misgovernment, extravagant expenditure, job- bery, and corruption is both loud and general. The negroes are declared to be the dupes of designing men, comparative strangers to the State, whose object is simply to fill their pockets out of the public spoil. Polit- ical charges are not minced in South Carolina. There is room, indeed, to hope for a good deal of exaggeration. The exclusion of the superior part of the population from all influence in public affairs must of itself tend to magnify the enormity of everything enormous, and to distort everything not quite square that is done. The members and depend- ants of the State Administration are said, after having depreciated the South Carolina bonds to 40 and 35 cents, and bought in largely at such prices, to have then offered gold interest at New York, which at once advanced the price to 95 cents, and enabled them to pocket millions. Possible and condemnatory enough, but it was a good thing in itself to restore the financial credit of the State; and in North Carolina, for example, the business men and the proprietors have since the war urged upon the Legislature to place the public credit of the State on the best footing, and will not desist till they succeed, under the conviction that honesty to the public creditor is the best policy, and the corner-stone of all progress and improvement. State Commissions are said to be issued on roads, lands, and other departments, the members of which do little but job and make profit to themselves and their friends. The State Government buys lands on which to settle and give homes to negroes. This is commissioned, and land is said to undergo sale and resale before it becomes the property of the State. It is not believed that the negroes 132 SOCIAL CONDITIONS will in any considerable number make homes on these properties, and the only advantage I have incidentally discovered from such settle- ments is in one instance where the negroes, not having crops enough of their own to occupy their labour, formed a reserve force from which a neighbouring planter has drawn extra hands to gather in his cotton. Railway contracts and railway bonds, in which the State has its finger, are also suspected of offering opportunities not exactly consistent with the public good. The phosphate deposits in the bay and rivers have been leased at a royalty of a dollar per ton to a single company, not, I am to believe, without heavy sums distributed in the House of Repre- sentatives; but the principle of this transaction is discussed freely by all parties, and it is thought by some that the law of the United States will not sanction a commercial monopoly of what is public estate. A State census was taken last year, which is thought to have been a super- fluous labour, seeing that the decennial census ordered by Congress fell to be taken this year, and the Governor is supposed to have sought in this way to give employment to partisans, and to secure votes. Every- thing thus moves in an atmosphere of political suspicion. One of the most favourable signs, indeed, is the keenness with which the acts of the State Government and Legislature are scrutinized, and the activity with which the native white population endeavour to recover influence and authority both in the State and in Congress. Prior to the recent elections, they organised a Reform Union on the basis of the political and civil equality of the negroes, turned out in large numbers to the ballot boxes, protected the negroes who were voting on their side, and in Charleston succeeded. But throughout the State the movement so far has failed to divide the negro vote with the Radical party, who remain in a large majority. The principles of the Reform Union seem to be consistently maintained in practice. Many of the white electors in the city voted for Delarge, a negro tailor, as representative of their district in Congress, because they believed him to be more trustworthy than his white opponents. I allude at this length to political affairs in South Carolina, because it is very obvious that a system of government resting almost wholly on the votes of the negroes, is not a desirable state of affairs as regards either the State itself or the general interests of the Union. It destroys confidence in the integrity and stability of the Administration, prevents the investment of money, and renders impossible that hearty co-opera- tion of the public authorities with the substantial people of the State which is so essential to the interests of all classes of the community. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 133 [CHaARLEsToN, S. C.—Nov. 10 to Nov. 14.] Apart from the passing excitement of the elections just over, and the disappointment of the white population at the voting of the negroes en masse for the Republican or Radical party, the general tone of social life in Charleston is kindly and temperate, and all classes of society are working together with considerable harmony for mutual good. The negro is beset at present by two parties who claim to be his “best friends.” The Republicans, who came in with the close of the war, appeal to him as his best if not only friends; and, looking at the politi- cal issues of the war, and the decree of emancipation, with its elaborate - guarantees of reconstruction, the negroes could not but regard the Republican party politically as their friends. Nor can it be denied that the organs of the Federal Government have laboured to introduce institutions for the moral and social benefit of the negroes, and, as far as their limited means would allow, have befriended that large portion of the population. I have not found any one on the other side who is prepared to blame the negroes for voting almost universally as they did in the elections which raised General Grant to the Presidentship, or who appears to have expected that they would or should have been other than fast adherents of their emancipators. But the political agitators and hungry spoil-and-office hunters of the party are accused of appeal- ing to the ignorance and passions of the negro population—of telling them that the white people of the State are eagerly seeking an oppor- tunity of restoring slavery, which they have certainly no wish to do, and which they could not do even if they would; and now, after five years of this, it is considered hard that the negroes—when there are great public objects of economy, protection from jobbery and corrup- tion, and a sound and healthy administration of the affairs of the State to promote, in which the blacks are as closely interested as others— should cast their votes in a body against the great majority of the white population, and terrorize such of their own colour as are disposed to act differently. This feeling breaks out violently just now in bar-rooms and at street corners, and is often expressed more quietly and reason- ably, yet firmly, in private circles. Many seem ready to despair of the negro as a politician, while others talk of a “‘war of races” and other disorders sure to arise. The feeling is no doubt all the stronger since the evils of “carpet-bagging” and negro demagoguery are apparent to respectable men of both parties, and, while violently denounced on one side, are not denied, but sometimes admitted and deplored, on the other. 124 SOCIAL CONDITIONS Though politics in South Carolina thus wear a somewhat sinister com- plexion, yet there is a healthy action and a sober practical opinion under- neath the service that promise beneficial results. The issues left by the war are being rapidly closed; the Refor:a Union, which has figured prominently in the late elections as the organ of the native white people of the State, recognizes fully the civil and political equality of the negroes not only as an election platform, but as the fundamental law of the United States; this position is likely to be maintained, and may be expected soon to bring about in this, as in other Southern States, a better balance of parties. Meanwhile social bonds are being knit together, and many ameliorative influences are quietly at work. The ladies, who had a long apprenticeship of self-devotion during the war, are exerting themselves to give work, and to sell the work of poor needlewomen of both races. Nearly all the old charities of Charleston remain in operation, and schools and missions are doing much to improve the population. By a law passed five years before the war a public school system was introduced into South Carolina, which became well developed in Charleston; and now the State has passed under the new free-school principle, embodied in the Constitutions of the Southern States under the Acts of Reconstruction. It is only by degrees that this system can get into general operation, and, indeed, it is doubtful whether the ground lost in education during the war has yet been recovered. The official statistics for 1860 give 20,716 pupils in 757 public schools, whereas they show for 1869 only 381 public schools and 16,418 pupils. The new law is now, however, being put into operation; the State has appropriated $50,000 to this object, and, aided by the Peabody Fund and other voluntary contributions, South Carolina may be expected soon to be tolerably well furnished with the means of education for the whole population. Charleston is probably more advanced in this respect than any other part of the State, and the education of negro children is already quite a prominent feature, one building devoted to the coloured people being capable of receiving 1,000 scholars. REDFIELD PROCTOR REDFIELD Proctor was born at Proctorsville, Vermont, in 1831. He became Governor of his State in 1878, Secretary of War in 1880, and United States Senator in 1891. Before the Spanish-American War, he made a ue investiga- tion for his own sake of the conditions in Cuba. Considerable previous experience in the island fitted him admirably to be a competent judge, and the speech given below—a plain, conservative statement of affairs there—had the greatest influence in convincing the Senate of the neces- sity of interference for reasons of humanity. CONDITIONS IN CUBA Mr. President, more importance seems to be attached by others to my recent visit to Cuba than I have given it, and it has been suggested that I make a public statement of what I saw and how the situation impressed me. This I do on account of the public interest in all that concerns Cuba, and to correct any inaccuracies that have, not unnat- urally, appeared in some of the reported interviews with me. My trip was entirely unofficial, and of my own motion, not sug- gested by anyone. The only mention I made of it to the President was to say to him that I contemplated such a trip and to ask him if there was any objection to it; to which he replied that he could see none. No one but myself, therefore, is responsible for anything in this statement. Judge Day gave me a brief note of introduction to General Lee, and I had letters of introduction from business friends at the North to bankers and other business men at Habana, and they in turn gave me letters to their correspondents in other cities. These letters to business men were very useful, as one of the principal purposes of my visit was to ascertain the views of practical men of affairs upon the situation. Of General Lee I need say little. His valuable services to his country in his trying position are too well known to all his countrymen to require mention. Besides his ability, high character, and courage, he possesses the important requisites of unfailing tact and courtesy, and, 136 SOCIAL CONDITIONS withal, his military education and training and his soldierly qualities are invaluable adjuncts in the equipment of our representative in a country so completely under military rule as is Cuba. General Lee kindly invited us to sit at his table at the hotel during our stay in Habana, and this opportunity for frequent informal talks with him was of great help to me. In addition to the information he voluntarily gave me, it furnished a convenient opportunity to ask him the many questions that suggested _ themselves in explanation of things seen and heard on our trips through the country. I also met and spent considerable time with Consul Brice at Matanzas, and with Captain Barker, a stanch ex-Confederate soldier, the consul at Sagua la Grande, a friend of the Senator from Mississippi [Mr. Walthall]. None of our representatives whom I met in Cuba are of my political faith, but there is a broader faith, not bounded by party lines. They are all three true Americans, and have done excellent service. The Maine It has been stated that I said there was no doubt the Maine was blown up from the outside. This is a mistake. I may have said that such was the general impression among Americans in Habana. In fact, I have no opinion about it myself, and carefully avoided forming one. I gave no attention to these outside surmises. I met the members of the court on their boat, but would as soon approach our Supreme Court in regard to a pending case as that board. They are as competent and trustworthy within the lines of their duty as any court in the land, and their report, when made, will carry conviction to all the people that the exact truth has been stated just as far as it is possible to ascertain it. And until then surmise and conjecture are idle and unprofitable. Let us calmly wait for the report. Sections Visited There are six provinces in Cuba, each, with the exception of Matan- zas, extending the whole width of the island, and having about an equal sea front on the north and south borders. Matanzas touches the Carib- bean Sea only/at its southwest corner, being separated from it elsewhere by a narrow peninsula of Santa Clara Province. The provinces are named, beginning at the west, Pinar del Rio, Habana, Matanzas, Santa Clara, Puerto Principe, and Santiago de Cuba. My observations were confined to the four western provinces, which constitute about one-half of the island. The two eastern ones are practically in the hands of the insurgents, except the few fortified towns. These two large provinces are spoken of to-day as “Cuba Libre.” SOCIAL CONDITIONS 137 Habana, the great city and capital of the island, is, in the eyes of the Spaniards and many Cubans, all Cuba, as much as Paris is France. But having visited it in more peaceful times and seen its sights, the tomb of Columbus, the forts—Cabana and Morro Castle, etc.—I did not care to repeat this, preferring trips in the country. Everything seems to go on much as usual in Habana. Quiet prevails, and except for the frequent squads of soldiers marching to guard and police duty and their abounding presence in all public places, one sees little signs of war. Outside Habana all is changed. It is not peace nor is it war. It is desolation and distress, misery and starvation. Every town and village is surrounded by a “trocha” (trench), a sort of rifle pit, but constructed on a plan new to me, the dirt being thrown up on the inside and a barbed wire fence on the outerside of the trench. These trochas have at every corner and at frequent intervals along the sides what are there called forts, but which are really small blockhouses, many of them more like large sentry boxes, loopholed for musketry, and with a guard of from two to ten soldiers in each. The purpose of these trochas is to keep the reconcentrados in as well as to keep the insurgents out. From all the surrounding country the people have been driven in to these fortified towns and held there to subsist as they can. They are virtually prison yards, and not unlike one in general appearance, except that the walls are not so high and strong; but they suffice, where every point is in range of a soldier’s rifle, to keep in the poor reconcentrado women and children. -Every railroad station is within one of these trochas and has an armed guard. Every train has an armored freight car, loopholed for musketry and filled with soldiers, and with, as I observed usually, and was informed is always the case, a pilot engine a mile or so in advance. There are frequent blockhouses inclosed by a trocha and with a guard along the railroad track. With this exception there is no human life or habitation between these fortified towns and villages, and throughout the whole of the four western provinces, except to a very limited extent among the hills where the Spaniards have not been able to go and drive the people to the towns and burn their dwellings. I saw no house or hut in the 400 miles of railroad rides from Pinar del Rio Province in the west across the full width of Habana and Matanzas provinces, and to Sagua La Grande on the north shore, and to Cienfuegos on the south shore of Santa Clara, except within the Spanish trochas. There are no domestic animals or crops on the rich fields and pas- 138 SOCIAL CONDITIONS tures except such as are under guard in the immediate vicinity of the towns. In other words, the Spaniards hold in these four western prov- inces just what their army sits on. Every man, woman, and child, and every domestic animal, wherever their columns have reached, is under guard and within their so-called fortifications. To describe one place is to describe all. To repeat, it is neither peace nor war. It is concen- tration and desolation. This is the “pacified” condition of the four western provinces. West of Habana is mainly the rich tobacco country; east, so far as I went, a sugar region. Nearly all the sugar mills are destroyed between Habana and Sagua. Two or three were standing in the vicin- ity of Sagua, and in part running, surrounded, as are the villages, by trochas, and “forts” or palisades of the royal palm, and fully guarded. Toward and near Cienfuegos there were more mills running, put all with the same protection. It is said that the owners of these mills near Cienfuegos have been able to obtain special favors of the Spanish Gov- ernment in the way of a large force of soldiers, but that they also, as well as all the railroads, pay taxes to the Cubans for immunity. I had no means of verifying this. It is the common talk among those who have better means of knowledge. The Reconcentrados—The Country People All the country people in the four western provinces, about 400,000 in number, remaining outside the fortified towns when Weyler’s order was made were driven into these towns, and these are the reconcen- trados. They were the peasantry, many of them farmers, some land- owners, others renting lands and owning more or less stock, others working on estates and cultivating small patches ; and even a small patch in that fruitful clime will support a family. It is but fair to say that the normal condition of these people was very different from what prevails in this country. Their standard of comfort and prosperity was not high measured by ours. But according to their standards and requirements their conditions of life were sat- isfactory. They lived mostly in cabins made of palms or in wooden houses. Some of them had houses of stone, the blackened walls of which are all that remain to show the country was ever inhabited. The first clause of Weyler’s order reads as follows: I Order and Command First. All the inhabitants of the country or outside of the line of SOCIAL CONDITIONS 139 fortifications of the towns shall, within the period of eight days, concentrate themselves in the towns occupied by the troops. Any indi- vidual who, after the expiration of this period, is found in the uninhab- ited parts will be considered a rebel and tried as such. The other three sections forbid the transportation of provisions from one town to another without permission of the military authority, direct the owners of cattle to bring them into the towns, prescribe that the eight days shall be counted from the publication of the proclamation in the head town of the municipal district, and state that if news is fur- nished of the enemy which can be made use of, it will serve as a “rec- ommendation.”’ Many, doubtless, did not learn of this order. Others failed to grasp its terrible meaning. Its execution was left largely to the guerrillas to drive in all that had not obeyed, and I was informed that in many cases the torch was applied to their homes with no notice, and the inmates fled with such clothing as they might have on, their stock and other belongings being appropriated by the guerrillas. When they reached the towns they were allowed to build huts of palm leaves in the suburbs and vacant places within the trochas, and left to live, if they could. Their huts are about Io by 15 feet in size, and for want of space are usually crowded together very closely. They have no floor but the ground, no furniture, and, after a year’s wear, but little clothing except such stray substitutes as they can extemporize; and with large families, or more than one, in this little space, the commonest sanitary provisions are impossible. Conditions are unmentionable in this respect. Torn from their homes, with foul earth, foul air, foul water, and foul food or none, what wonder that one-half have died and that one-quarter of the living are so diseased that they cannot be saved? A form of dropsy is a common disorder resulting from these conditions. Little children are still walking about with arms and chest terribly emaciated, eyes swollen, and abdomen bloated to three times the natural size. The physicians say these cases are hopeless. Deaths in the streets have not been uncommon. I was told by one of our consuls that they have been found dead about the markets in the morning, where they had crawled, hoping to get some stray bits of food from the early hucksters, and that there had been cases where they had dropped dead inside the market surrounded by food. These people were independent and self-supporting before Weyler’s order. They are not beggars even now. There are plenty of professional beggars in 140 SOCIAL CONDITIONS every town among the regular residents, but these country people, the reconcentrados, have not learned the art. Rarely is a hand held out to you for alms when going among their huts, but the sight of them makes an appeal stronger than words. The Hospitals Of these I need not speak. Others have described their conditions far better than I can. It is not within the narrow limits of my vocab- ulary to portray it. I went to Cuba with a strong conviction that the picture had been overdrawn; that a few cases of starvation and suffer- ing had inspired and stimulated the press correspondents, and that they had given free play to a strong, natural, and highly cultivated imagina- tion. Before starting I received through the mail a leaflet published by the Christian Herald, with cuts of some of the sick and starving recon- centrados, and took it with me, thinking these must be rare specimens, got up to make the worst possible showing. I saw plenty as bad and worse; many that should not be photographed and shown. T could not believe that out of a population of 1,600,000, 200,000 had died within these Spanish forts, practically prison walls, within a few months past from actual starvation and diseases caused by insufficient and improper food. My inquiries were entirely outside of sensational sources. They were made of our medical officers, of our consuls, of city alcaldes (mayors), of relief committees, of leading merchants and bankers, physicians, and lawyers. Several of my informants were Span- ish born, but every time the answer was that the case had not been overstated. What I saw I cannot tell so that others can see it. It must be seen with one’s own eyes to be realized. The Los Pasos Hospital, in Habana, has been recently described by one of my colleagues, Senator Gallinger, and I cannot say that his picture was overdrawn, for even his fertile pen could not do that. But he visited it after Dr. Lesser, one of Miss Barton’s very able and efficient assistants, had renovated it and put in cots. I saw it when 400 women and children were lying on the stone floors in an indescribable state of emaciation and disease, many with the scantiest covering of rags —and such rags !—sick children, as naked as they came into the world; and the conditions in the other cities are even worse. Miss Barton and Her Work Miss Barton needs no indorsement from me. I had known and esteemed her for many years, but had not half appreciated her capa- SOCIAL CONDITIONS 141 bility and devotion to her work. I specially looked into her business methods, fearing that here would be the greatest danger of mistake, that there might be want of system and waste and extravagance, but found she could teach me on these points. I visited the warehouse where the supplies are received and distributed; saw the methods of checking ; visited the hospitals established or organized and supplied by her; saw the food distributions in several cities and towns, and every- thing seems to me to be conducted in the best manner possible. The ample, fine warehouse in Habana, owned by a Cuban firm, is given, with a gang of laborers free of charge to unload and reship supplies. The Children’s Hospital in Havana, a very large, fine private resi- dence, is hired at a cost of less than $100 per month, not a fifth of what it would command in this city. It is under the admirable management of Mrs. Dr. Lesser of New York, a German lady and trained nurse. I saw the rapid improvement of the first children taken there. All Miss Barton’s assistants seem excellently fitted for their duties. In short, I saw nothing to criticise, but everything to commend. The American people may be assured that their bounty will reach the sufferers with the least possible cost and in the best manner in every respect. And if our people could see a small fraction of the need, they would pour more “freely from their liberal stores” than ever before for any cause. When will the need for this help end? Not until peace comes and the reconcentrados can go back to the country, rebuild their homes, reclaim their tillage plots, which quickly run up to brush in that won- derful soil and clime, and until they can be free from danger of molesta- tion in so doing. Until then the American people must in the main care for them. It is true that the alcaldes, other local authorities, and the relief committees are now trying to do something, and desire, I believe, to do the best they can. But the problem is beyond their means and capacity, and the work is one to which they are not accustomed. General Blanco’s order of November 13 last somewhat modifies the Weyler order, but it is of little or no practical benefit. Its applica- tion is limited to farms “properly defended,” and the owners are obliged to build “centers of defense.” Its execution is completely in the dis- cretion of the local military authorities, and they know the terrible mili- tary efficiency of Weyler’s order in stripping the country of all possible shelter, food, or source of information for an insurgent, and will be slow to surrender this advantage. In fact, though the order was issued four months ago, I saw no beneficent results from it worth mentioning. 142 SOCIAL CONDITIONS I do not impugn General Blanco’s motives, and believe him to be an amiable gentleman, and that he would be glad to relieve the condition of the reconcentrados if he could do so without loss of any military advantage; but he knows that all Cubans are insurgents at heart, and none now under military control will be allowed to go out from under it. I wish I might speak of the country—of its surpassing richness. I have never seen one to compare with it. On this point I agree with Columbus, and believe everyone between his time and mine must be of the same opinion. It is indeed a land— Where every prospect pleases And only man is vile. The Spaniard I had little time to study the race question, and have read nothing on it, so can only give hasty impressions. It is said that there are nearly 200,000 Spaniards in Cuba out of a total population of 1,600,000. They live principally in the towns and cities. The small shopkeepers in the towns and their clerks are mostly Spaniards. Much of the larger busi- ness, too, and of the property in the cities, and in a less degree in the country, is in their hands. They have an eye to thrift, and as every- thing possible in the way of trade and legalized monopolies, in which the country abounds, is given to them by the Government, many of them acquire property. I did not learn that the Spanish residents of the island had contributed largely in blood or treasure to suppress the insurrection. The Cuban There are, or were before the war, about 1,000,000 Cubans on the island, 200,000 Spaniards (which means those born in Spain), and less than half a million of negroes and mixed bloods. The Cuban whites are of pure Spanish blood and, like the Spaniards, dark in complexion, but oftener light or blonde, so far as I noticed. The percentage of colored to white has been steadily diminishing for more than fifty years, and is not now over 25 per cent of the total. In fact, the number of colored people has been actually diminishing for nearly that time. The Cuban farmer and laborer is by nature peaceable, kindly, gay, hospitable, light- hearted, and improvident. There is a proverb among the Cubans that “Spanish bulls cannot be bred in Cuba”—that is, that the Cubans, though they are of Spanish blood, are less excitable and of a quieter temperament. Many Cubans whom I met spoke in strong terms against the bull fights; that it was a brutal institution, introduced and mainly patronized by the Spaniards. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 143 One thing that was new to me was to learn the superiority of the well- to-do Cuban over the Spaniard in the matter of education. Among those in good circumstances there can be no doubt that the Cuban is far superior in this respect. And the reason of it is easy to see. They have been educated in England, France, or this country, while the Spaniard has such education as his own country furnishes. The Negro The colored people seem to me by nature quite the equal mentally and physically of the race in this country. Certainly physically they are by far the larger and stronger race on the island. There is little or no race prejudice, and this has doubtless been greatly to their advantage. Kighty-five years ago there were one-half as many free negroes as slaves, and this proportion slowly increased until emancipation. The Military Situation It is said that there are about 60,000 Spanish soldiers now in Cuba fit for duty out of the over 200,000 that have been sent there. The rest have died, have been sent home sick, or are in hospitals, and some have been killed, notwithstanding the official reports. They are conscripts, many of them very young, and generally small men. One hundred and thirty pounds is a fair estimate of their average weight. They are quiet and obedient, and if well drilled and led, I believe would fight fairly well, but not at all equal to our men. Much more would depend on the leadership than with us. The officer must lead well and be one in whom they have confidence, and this applies to both sides alike. As I saw no drills or regular formation, I inquired about them of many per- sons, and was informed that they had never seen a drill. I saw perhaps 10,000 Spanish troops, but not a piece of artillery or a tent. They live in barracks in the towns, and are seldom out for more than the day, returning to town at night. They have little or no equipment for supply trains or for a field campaign such as we have. Their cavalry horses are scrubby little native ponies, weighing not over 800 pounds, tough and hardy, but for the most part in wretched condition, reminding one of the mounts of Don Quixote and his squire. Some of the officers, however, have good horses, mostly American, I think. On both sides cavalry is considered the favorite and the dangerous fighting arm. The tactics of the Span- ish, as described to me by eyewitnesses and participants in some of their battles, is for the infantry, when threatened by insurgent cavalry, to form a hollow square and fire away ab libitum, and without ceasing until time to march back to town. 144 SOCIAL CONDITIONS It does not seem to have entered the minds of either side that a good infantry force can take care of itself and repulse anywhere an equal or greater number of cavalry, and there are everywhere positions where cavalry would be at a disadvantage. Having called on Governor and Captain-General Blanco and received his courteous call in return, I could not with propriety seek communication with insurgents. I had plenty of safe offers of safe con- duct to Gomez’s camp, and was told that if I would write him, an answer would be returned safely within ten days at most. I saw several who had visited the insurgent camps, and was sought out by an insurgent field officer, who gave me the best information received as to the insurgent force. His statements were moderate, and I was credibly informed that he was entirely reliable. He claimed that the Cubans had about 30,000 men now in the field, some in every prov- ince, but mostly in the two eastern provinces and eastern Santa Clara, and this statement was corroborated from other good sources. They have a force all the time in Habana Province itself, organized in four small brigades and operating in small bands. Ruiz was taken, tried, and shot within about a mile and a half of the railroad and about fifteen miles out of Habana, on the road to Matanzas, a road more traveled than any other, and which I went over four times. Arranguren was killed about three miles the other side of the road and about the same distance, fifteen or twenty miles, from Habana. They were well armed, but very poorly supplied with ammunition. They are not allowed to carry many cartridges; sometimes not more than one or two. The infantry, especially, are poorly clad. Two small squads of prisoners which I saw, however, one of half a dozen in the streets of Habana, and one of three on the cars, wore better clothes than the average Spanish soldier. Each of these prisoners, though surrounded by guards, was bound by the arm and wrists by cords, and they were all tied together by a cord running along the line, a specimen of the amenities of their warfare. About one-third of the Cuban army are colored, mostly in the infantry, as the cavalry furnished their own horses. This field officer, an American from a Southern State, spoke in the highest terms of the conduct of these colored soldiers; that they were as good fighters and had more endurance than the whites; could keep up with the cavalry on a long march and come in fresh at night. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 145 The Political Situation The dividing lines between parties are the most straight and clear cut that have ever come to my knowledge. The division in our war was by no means so clearly defined. It is Cuban against Spaniard. It is practically the entire Cuban population on one side and the Spanish army and Spanish citizens on the other. I do not count the autonomists in this division, as they are so far too inconsiderable in numbers to be worth mentioning. General Blanco filled the civil offices with men who had been autonomists and were still classed as such. But the march of events had satisfied most of them that the chance for autonomy came too late. It falls as talk of compromise would have fallen the last year or two of our war. If it succeeds, it can only be by armed force, by the triumph of the Spanish army, and the success of Spanish arms would be easier by Weyler’s policy and method, for in that the Spanish army and people believe. | There is no doubt that General Blanco is acting in entire good faith; that he desires to give the Cubans a fair measure of autonomy, as Campos did at the close of the ten-year war. He has, of course, a few personal followers, but the army and Spanish citizens do not want genu- ine autonomy, for that means government by the Cuban people. And it is not strange that the Cubans say it comes too late. I have never had any communication, direct or indirect, with the Cuban Junta in this country or any of its members, nor did I have with any of the juntas which exist in every city and large town of Cuba. None of the calls I made were upon parties of whose sympathies I had the least knowledge, except that I knew some of them were classed as autonomists. Most of my informants were business men, who had no sides and rarely expressed themselves. I had no means of guessing in advance what their answers would be, and was in most cases greatly surprised at their frankness. I inquired in regard to autonomy of men of wealth and men as prominent in business as any in the cities of Habana, Matanzas, and Sagua, bankers, merchants, lawyers, and autonomist officials, some of them Spanish born but Cuban bred, one prominent Englishman, several of them known as autonomists, and several of them telling me they were still believers in autonomy if practicable, but without exception they replied that it was “‘too late” for that. X10; 146 SOCIAL CONDITIONS Some favored a United States protectorate, some annexation, some free Cuba; not one has been counted favoring the insurrection at first. They were business men and wanted peace, but said it was too late for peace under Spanish sovereignty. They characterized Weyler’s order in far stronger terms than I can. I could not but conclude that you do not have to scratch an autonomist very deep to find a Cuban. There is soon to be an election, but every polling place must be inside a fortified town. Such elections ought to be safe for the “ins.” I have endeavored to state in not intemperate mood what I saw and heard, and to make no argument thereon, but leave everyone to draw his own conclusions. To me the strongest appeal is not the bar- barity practiced by Weyler nor the loss of the Maine, if our worst fears should prove true, terrible as are both of these incidents, but the spec- tacle of a million and a half of people, the entire native population of Cuba, struggling for freedom and deliverance from the worst misgov- ernment of which I ever had knowledge. But whether our action ought to be influenced by any one or all these things, and, if so, how far, is another question. I am not in favor of annexation; not because I would apprehend any particular trouble from it, but because it is not wise policy to take in any people of foreign tongue and training, and without any strong guiding American element. The fear that if free the people of Cuba would be revolutionary is not so well founded as has been supposed, and the conditions for good self-government are far more favorable. The large number of educated and patriotic men, the great sacrifices they have endured, the peaceable temperament of the people, whites and blacks, the wonderful prosperity that would surely come with peace and good home rule, the large influx of American and English immigration and money, would all be strong factors for stable institutions. But it is not my purpose at this time, nor do I consider it my prov- ince, to suggest any plan. I merely speak of the symptoms as I saw them, but do not undertake to prescribe. Such remedial steps as may be required may safely be left to an American President and the American people. 147 F. H. SAWYER F. H. SAwYeErR was British consul in Manila and a resident there for some fourteen years. PROSPECTS IN THE PHILIPPINES The commercial prospects of the islands are great, even if we do not instaritly take for gospel the fairy tales we are told about Manila becoming the centre of the trade of the Pacific. There can be no doubt that if peace and an honest administration can be secured, capital will be attracted and considerable increase in the export of hemp, tobacco, and sugar will gradually take place as fresh land can be cleared and planted. As I have elsewhere said, the Philippines in energetic and skillful hands will soon yield up the store of gold which the poor Span- iards have been so mercilessly abused for leaving behind them. But the Philippines are not and never will be a country for the poor white man. A white man cannot labour there without great danger to his health. He cannot compete with the native or Chinese mechanic, in fact he is not wanted there at all. For my part, I would never employ a white man there as a labourer or mechanic, if I could help it, more especially an Englishman or an American, for I know from experience what the result would be. As foreman or overseer a white man may be better, according to his skill and character. Now let me, as soon as possible, expose the absurdity of a mis- chievous letter, which I fear may already have done much harm, but I hope my warning may do something to counteract its effects. I quote from the Blue Book so often mentioned: pp. 330-1. 148 SOCIAL CONDITIONS Mr. WILLIAMS fo Mer. Day. U. S. S. BaLtimorE, MANILA Bay, July 2nd, 1898. SIR, * * * * * x If long occupation or possession on the part of our government be considered, I believe early and strenuous efforts should be made to bring here from the United States men and women of many occupa- tions—mechanics, teachers, ministers, shipbuilders, merchants, electri- cians, plumbers, druggists, doctors, dentists, carriage and harness makers, stenographers, typewriters, photographers, tailors, blacksmiths, and agents for exporting, and to introducé American products, natural and artificial, of many classes. To all such I pledge every aid, and now is the time to start. Good government will be easier the greater the influx of Americans. My despatches have referred to our present percentage of export trade. If now our exports come here as interstate, duty free, we have practical control of Philippine trade, which now amounts to many millions, and because of ingrafting of American energy and methods upon the fabulous natural and productive wealth of these islands, can and probably will be multiplied by twenty during the coming twenty years. All this increment should come to our nation and not go to any other. | * * * * * I hope for an influx this year of 10,000 ambitious Americans, and all can live well, become enriched. . . . (Signed) O. F. WILLIAMS, Consul. I venture to say that the man who wrote this astonishing letter, taking upon himself the responsibility of advising “early and strenuous efforts” to send from the United States thousands of men and women of many occupations to Manila, and of assuring them that “all could live well and become enriched,” knew nothing at all about the state of the Philippine Islands, and is a most unsafe guide. What on earth would all these tradespeople find to do in the islands? Where could they be housed? How could they be supported? If they came in numbers, the doctors and druggists might indeed find full employment prescribing and making up medicine for the many sufferers from tropical ailments, especially the typhoid fevers, that would attack the unacclimatised immigrants, and the ministers could earn their daily bread by reading the burial service, whilst the typewriters would be busy typing letters to friends at home announcing the deaths that occurred; and warning them against coming to starve in Manila. But SOCIAL CONDITIONS 149 I defy anyone to explain how the shipbuilders, electricians, plumbers, tailors and blacksmiths are to make a living. As regards merchants or agents for exporting, I may say that Americans have not been very suc- cessful in Manila in this capacity. The great and influential firm of Russell & Sturgis came to grief through over-trading, and another noteworthy firm, Messrs. Peele, Hubbell & Co., failed from rash specu- lations in sugar, and not from any persecutions by the Spanish authori- ties, as has been falsely stated in a magazine article. I speak with knowledge on the matter, as I was well acquainted with this firm, hav- ing been their consulting engineer for the construction of the slipway at Canacao for which they were agents. I think it only right to say that the gentlemen who were heads of these American firms were worthy upholders of the high reputation of their country. They failed, but no imputations rested on the characters of the partners, and I have always heard them spoken of with great respect, especially amongst the natives. Those of them who were personally known to me were men who invariably showed every courtesy and consideration to all who came in contact with them, whether Europeans or natives. Notwithstanding their misfortunes they were a credit to their country, and they did a good deal towards the development of the trade in the Philippines. I believe that the estates of Russell & Sturgis when realized, paid all their liabilities in full, and besides left considerable pickings in the hands of the liquidators and their friends. Two or three firms were built up out of their ruins. Some Chinese half-castes and natives had received heavy advances from this firm, especially about Molo and Yloilo. One well known individual had received $60,000, and when summoned before the court he claimed the benefit of the “Laws of the Indies,” by which his liability was limited to $5. The judge, however, ordered him to repay the principal at the rate of a dollar a month! I had this information from the judge himself. Curiously enough, American merchants have been equally unsuc- cessful in other parts of the far East. Many will remember the failure of Messrs. Oliphant & Co., the great China merchants, agents for the American Board of Missions, notwithstanding their desperate effort to retrieve their position by reviving the coolie trade with Peru, and in later days Messrs. Russell & Co. of Hong Kong also came to grief. I can give no explanation of the reasons for these four great fail- 150 SOCIAL CONDITIONS ures, but I conjecture that all these firms were in too much of a hurry, and tried to “hustle the East.” Yet in face of this calamitous experi- ence, Oscar F. Williams advises more to come, “pledges every aid,’ and predicts that “trade can, and probably will, be multiplied by twenty during the coming twenty years.” For my part, I should think it great progress if the exports and imports of the Philippines could be doubled in twenty years. The idea of sending plumbers to Manila where lead pipes are not used, is a com- icality only matched by the suggestion that tailors are wanted amongst a population dressed in cotton shirts and trousers, and where the white people wear veranda-made white duck suits. Both notions are more suitable for a comic opera than for an official document. There is only one more paragraph in this letter that I need com- ment on. Mr. Williams says: ‘Good government will be easier, the greater the influx of Americans.” To those who know the East there is no necessity to argue on this point. I therefore state dogmatically that the presence of white settlers or working people in the islands would add enormously to the difficulties of government. This is my experience, and during the Spanish admin- istration it was generally admitted to be the case. In British India the government does not in the least degree favour the immigration of British workmen. The only people who are recog- nised as useful to that country are capitalists and directors of agricul- tural or industrial enterprises. A large number of American mechanics turned loose amongst the population would infallibly, by their contempt for native customs, and their disregard of native feeling, become an everlasting source of strife and vexation. Impartial justice between the parties would be unattain- able; the whites would not submit to be judged by a native magistrate, and the result would be a war of races. It may be taken as probable that there is no crime, however hein- ous, that could be committed by an American upon a native, that would involve the execution of the death penalty on the criminal. On the other hand, I can quite believe that natives laying their hands upon Americans, whatever the provocation, would be promptly hanged, if they were not shot down upon the spot. The natives, it should be re- SOCIAL CONDITIONS 151 membered, are revengeful, and will bide their time; either to use the bolo upon one who has offended them, to burn down his house, set fire to his crop, or put a crow-bar in amongst his machinery. I fear that American brusqueness and impatience would often lead to these savage reprisals. I think, therefore, that the American Administration of the Philip- pines should be empowered to prevent or regulate the immigration of impecunious Americans or Europeans whose presence in the Islands must be extremely prejudicial to the much-desired pacification. No, the poor white is not wanted in the Islands, he would be a curse, and a residence there would be a curse to him. He would decay morally, mentally, and physically. The gorgeous East not only deteriorates the liver, but where a white man lives long amongst natives, he suffers a gradual but complete break-up of the nervous system. This peculiarity manifests itself amongst the natives of the Far East in the curious nervous disorder which is called mali-mali in the Philippines and sakit- latah amongst the Malays of the Peninsula and Java. It seems to be a weakening of the will, and on being startled, the sufferer entirely loses self-control and imitates the movements of any person who attracts his attention. It is more prevalent amongst women than men. I remember being at a performance of Chiarini’s Circus in Manila, when General Weyler and his wife were present. The clown walked into the ring on his hands, and a skinny old woman amongst the spectators who suf- fered from the mali-mali at once began to imitate him with unpleasing results, and had to be forcibly restrained by the scandalised bystanders. Running amok marks a climax of nerve disturbance, when the suf- ferer, instead of committing suicide, prefers to die killing others. He usually obtains his wish, and is killed without compunction, like a mad dog. Both natives and white residents are at times in rather a low con- dition of health, and if after exercise or labour they fail to get their meal at the proper time, when it comes they cannot eat. In its lighter form this is called desgana or loss of appetite, but I have seen natives collapse under such circumstances with severe headache and chills. This more serious form is known as traspaso de hambre, and is some- times the precursor of fever and nervous prostration. The Roman Catholic Church has had the wisdom to recognise and make allowance for the liability of residents and natives of the Philip- 152 SOCIAL CONDITIONS pines to this serious disorder, and has relaxed the usual rules of fast- ing, as being dangerous to health. Amongst the Europeans who have been long in the Islands, many are said to be “‘chiflado,” a term I can only render into English by the slang word cracked. This occurs more particularly amongst those who have been isolated amongst the natives. It is not easy to account for, but the fact is undeniable. I have heard it ascribed to “telluric influence,” but that is a wide and vague expression. Perhaps the explanation may be found in the extreme vio- lence of the phenomena of nature. The frequent earthquakes, the almost continuous vibration of the — soil, the awe-inspiring volcanic eruptions, with their sooty black palls of ash darkening the sky for days together, over hundreds of miles, the frightful detonations, the ear-splitting thunder, the devastating rage of the typhoons, the saturated atmosphere of the rainy season, and the hot dry winds of Lent, with the inevitable conflagrations, combine with depressing surroundings and anxieties to wreck the nerves of all but the strongest and most determined natures. If to all this the white resident or sojourner in the Philippines adds the detestable vice of intemperance, or even indulges in a liberal consumption of spirits, then instead of merely shattering his nerves, he is likely to become a raving maniac, for it takes much less whisky to bring on delirium tremens there, than it does in a temperate climate. Long sojourn in some other lands appears to act in a different manner. In tropical Africa it seems to be the moral balance that is lost. The conscience is blunted if not destroyed, the veneer of civilisation is stripped off, the white man reverts to savagery. The senseless cruelties of Peters, Lothaire, Voulet, Chanoine, and of some of the outlying offi- cials of the Congo Free State are not mere coincidences. They must be ascribed to one common cause, and that is debasement by environ- ment. The moral nature of a white man seems to become contaminated by long isolation amongst savages as surely as the physical health by living amongst lepers. If a poor white man wishes to sink to the level of a native, he has only to marry a native woman, and his object will be fully attained in a few years. But he will find it very much to his pecuniary interest, for she will buy cheaper and sell dearer than he can, and will manage his house and his business too, most economically. Some of her rela- tions will come and live with him, so that he will not feel lonely, and SOCIAL CONDITIONS 153 a half-caste family will grow up round about him, talking the dialect of their mother, which he, perhaps, does not understand. But if the poor white man takes out a white wife, he will probably have the pain and distress of seeing her fade away under the severity of the climate, which his means do not permit him to alleviate. White women suffer from the heat far more than men. Children cannot be properly brought up there after the age of twelve. They must either be sent home to be educated, or allowed to deteriorate and grow up inferior to their pa- rents in health, strength, and moral fibre. When I think of these things, I feel amazed at Oscar F. Williams’ presumption in writing that letter. I hope that not many have taken his advice, and that any who have will call on him to fulfil his imprudent pledges. However, now I have done with the poor white man. Capital is the greatest necessity of the Philippines. The labour is there if Gen- erals Otis and McArthur have left any natives alive. More banks are wanted. At present there are three important banks in Manila, and two of them have branches in Yloilo. The Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation has the largest resources; next comes the Chartered Bank of India, Australasia, and China, and lastly the Banco Espafiol Filipino. The first two give the most perfect facilities for business. I was only interested in importing, but certainly nothing more could be desired by an importer than their system of opening credits against shipping documents ; for practically he only had to pay for the goods when they arrived in Manila. All their business was done in the most expeditious manner, and I could suggest no im- provement on their methods. The Banco Espafiol Filipino was in a measure under government control, its procedure was consequently very slow, and its ways those of bygone days. These banks, however, did not advance money to cultivators to clear lands, plant crops, or erect machinery, as the returns are too slow, not to say doubtful. Yet this is what is wanted; banks in Manila and the chief towns that will advance money for such purposes, under the advice of experts personally acquainted with the cultivators and their lands. Such a business certainly requires great intelligence and discernment. Still there is a future for such banks, for agriculturists have to pay enormous rates of interest and commissions for money to carry on their plantations. Such banks could also finance timber-cutters, gold miners, and other bona fide workers. 154 SOCIAL CONDITIONS Amongst the enterprises I have recommended when writing about the Pampangos, and others engaged in planting sugar-cane, is the es- tablishment of central sugar factories in suitable localities. Such under- takings, judiciously administered, would have every prospect of success. There is also room for paper-mills, rice-mills, cotton-mills, and saw-mills, but all these, especially the last, need careful consideration for the selection of the locality where they are to be placed. The manu- facture of various kinds of leather could be greatly extended and im- proved. There is employment for more coasting steamers and schoon- ers. The latter and hulls of small steamers can be built in the country from the native timber. Although the development of means of communication is all- important, it is evident from the configuration of the Archipelago that no great length of railway is required, nor would it pay to construct them in so mountainous a country. Water-carriage is all-important. In Luzon a line of railway might be made from Manila to Batangas with a branch into the Laguna province. It would traverse a fertile and thickly-populated country. A short line of railway or electric tramway from near Siniloan on the Lake to the Pacific would be most useful in giving access to and developing the eastern coast, or contra costa, as it is called. This coast is very backward in every way, indeed from Baler to Punta Escarpada on its extreme north, it is quite unknown, and remains in the posses- sion of the Dumagas, an aboriginal tribe of heathen savages of low type, just as at the time of the Spanish conquest; and it would be worth while to study the question of cutting a ship-canal through this narrow strip of land if the mouth could be protected from the Pacific surf. There is also Bishop Gainza’s project that might be revived, that of cut- ting a canal for country craft from Pasacao in Camarines Sur to the River Vicol. In Negros and Panay some short lines from the ports through the sugar lands might pay if constructed very economically. Tramways between populous towns not far apart in Luzon and Panay would probably pay very well, as the people are fond of visiting their friends. It will probably be many years before Mindanao will be in a posi- tion to warrant the construction of railways. The island has relapsed into barbarism as a consequence of the withdrawal of the Spanish gar- risons and detachments, and of nearly all the Jesuit missionaries. It could, however, give employment to a flotilla of small steamers and sailing vessels on its northern and southern coasts. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 155 Such is my opinion in brief upon the possibilities of the develop- ment of industries and commerce. That the commerce of the islands, now mainly British, will ulti- mately pass into American hands, can scarcely be doubted. They are not yet firmly seated in power, but their attitude to British and foreign firms is already sufficiently pronounced to allow an observant onlooker to make a forecast of what it will be later on. Dominating Cuba, holding the Philippines, the Sandwich Islands and Porto Rico, the Americans will control the cane sugar trade, the tobacco trade, and the hemp trade, in addition to the vast branches of production they now hold in their hands. LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE TAGALS The most important race in the Archipelago is the Tagal, or Ta- galog, inhabiting Central Luzon, including the following provinces: Batangas, Bulacan, Bataan, Camarines Norte, Cavite, Laguna, Manila, part of Nueva Ecija and Tayabas, the districts of Infanta, Morong, and part of Principe, also the Island of Corregidor and the coast of Mindoro. They probably number about one million five hun- dred thousand souls. Antonio de Morga, in his work “Sucesos de Philipinas,” says (p. 126): “The women wear the baro and saya, and chains of gold upon 3 their necks, also bracelets of the same. All classes are very clean in their persons and clothing, and of good carriage and graceful (de buen ayre y gracia’). They are very careful of their hair, washing it with gogo and anointing it with ajonjoli oil perfumed with musk. In the “Relacion de las Islas Philipinas,” 1595 (?), the anonymous author said of the Tagals: “The people of this province are the best of all the Islands, more polite, and more truly our friends. They go more clothed than the others, the men as well as the women. They are light-coloured people of very good figures and faces, and like to put on many ornaments of gold, which they have in great abundance.” In other respects, however, they seem, from the same author, to be less worthy of praise, for he goes on to tell us: “When some principal man died, in vengeance of his death they cut off many heads, with 156 SOCIAL CONDITIONS which they made many feasts and dances. . . . They had their houses full of wood and stone idols, which they called Tao-tao and Lichac, for temples they had none. And they said that when one of their parents or children died the soul entered into one of these idols, and for this they reverenced them and begged of them life, health, and riches. They called these idols anitos, and when they were ill they drew lots to find which of these had given them the illness, and then made great sacrifices and feasts to it. “They worshipped idols which were called Al Priapo Lacapati, Meilupa, but now, by the goodness of God, they are enlightened with the grace of the Divine Gospel and adore the living God in spirit.” The old writer then remarks on the cleverness and sharpness of the boys, and the ease with which they learned to read and write, sing, play, and dance. This characteristic appears general to the Malay race, for, speak- ing of the Javanese, Crauford says: “They have ears of remarkable delicacy for musical sounds, are readily taught to play upon any instru- ment the most difficult and complex airs.” According to Morga, at the time of the Conquest, the Tagals wrote their language in the Arabic language. He says: “They write well in these Islands; most people both men and women, can write. This tends to show that the equality of the sexes, which I shall refer to later, has been customary from ancient times.” Tomas de Comyn (1810) says: The population of the capital, in consequence of its continual com- munication with the Chinese and other Asiatics, with the sailors of different nations, with the soldiers, and with the Mexican convicts who are generally mulattoes, and who arrive in some number every year, has come to be a mixture of all the bloods and features, or otherwise a degeneration of the primitive race. At Cainta, on a branch of the Pasig, the natives are darker, taller, and of a different type. This is accounted for by the fact that, in 1762- 63, during the English invasion, a regiment of Madras Sepoys, occu- pied the town for many months, long enough, in fact, to modify the native type to such an extent as to be plainly visible 125 years later. Crauford says that some Christian inhabitants of Ternate followed their priests (Jesuits) to Luzon when the Spaniards were driven out of Molucas by the Dutch in 1660. They were located in Marigondon. There is now a town called Ternate between Marigondon and the sea, SOCIAL CONDITIONS 157 near Punta Restinga. But, with the exception of the capital and these two places, I think the Tagals have not greatly altered in physical char- acteristics since the Conquest—notwithstanding Ratzel’s statement that “Spanish-Tagal half-breeds in the Philippines may be numbered by the hundred thousand,” which I consider erroneous. The fact is, that wherever a small number of male Europeans live amongst a native race, the effect on the type is smaller than may be sup- posed, and what there is becomes obliterated or disseminated in course of time. Colour may be a little altered, but all the other characteristics remain. The mestizas are not so prolific as the native women, and not- withstanding Jagor’s assertion to the contrary, they often marry natives, and especially if their father has died while they were young. I knew in the town of Balayan three handsome sisters, daughters of a Spaniard who had died many years before. Although they lived in a house which had been at one time the finest in the town, and still retained some rem- nants of its former grandeur, they had reverted entirely to the native customs and dress. They spoke only Tagal, and all three of them mar- ried natives. The tendency of the Philippine native to revert to old customs is well marked, and I agree with Jagor when he says: “Every Indian has an innate inclination to abandon the hamlets and retire into the solitude of the woods, or live isolated in the midst of his own fields,” in fact to Remontar. The Tagals are considered by Wallace as the fourth great tribe of the Malay race. He only mentions the Tagals, but in fact the popula- tion of the Archipelago, except the Negritos and some hybrids, belongs to the Malay race, although slightly mixed with Chinese and Spanish blood in a few localities. They are here and there modified by mixture with other races,and everywhere by their environment, for they have been Roman Catholics and subject to Spanish influence, if not rule, for upwards of three centuries. They differ little in physical appearance from the Malays proper inhabiting the Peninsula, and although their manners and customs are somewhat changed, their nature remains the same. They retain all the inherent characteristics of the Malay. The Tagal possesses a great deal of self-respect, and his demeanour is quiet and decorous. He is polite to others, and expects to be treated politely himself. He is averse to rowdiness or horse-play of any kind, and avoids giving offence. 158 SOCIAL CONDITIONS Family Life. For an inhabitant of the tropics he is fairly industrious, sometimes even vary hard working. Those who have seen him poling cascos against the stream of the Pasig will admit this. He is a keen sportsman, and will readily put his money on his favourite horse or game-cock; he is also addicted to other forms of gambling. The position taken by women in a community is often con- sidered as a test of the degree of civilisation it has attained. Measured by this standard, the Tagals come out well, for amongst them the wife exerts great influence in the family, and the husband rarely completes any important business without her concurrence. Crauford considers the equality of the sexes to be general through- out the Indian Archipelago, more particularly in the Island of Celebes, where the inhabitants are the most warlike of all. The Tagals treat their children with great kindness and forbear- ance, those who are well-off show much anxiety to secure a good edu- cation for their sons, and even for their daughters. Parental authority extends to the latest period in life. I have seen a man of fifty years come as respectfully as a child to kiss the hands of his aged parents when the vesper bell sounded, and this notwithstanding the presence of several European visitors in the house. Children, in return, show great respect to both parents, and come morning and evening to kiss their hands. I may remark that their man- ner of kissing is different to ours. They place the nose and lips against the cheek or hand of the person to be saluted, and draw in the breath strongly. A ppearance—Manners. The Malays in general are not,-perhaps, a handsome race, their flat noses disfigure them in the eyes of the recently-arrived European or American, and it takes time to get accustomed to them. Still, their rich brown skin often covers a symmetrical, lithe and agile figure, the small hands and feet denoting their Turanian origin. The youth of both sexes up to the age of puberty are not seldom of striking beauty, and their appearance is not belied by their behaviour. They are trained in good manners from their earliest youth, both by precept and example. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 159 Palgrave says of them: “Nowhere are family bonds closer drawn, family affections more enduring, than amongst the Malay races. His family is a pleasing sight, much subordination and little restraint, unison in gradation, liberty not license. Orderly children, respected parents, women subject, but not suppressed, men ruling, but not des- potic, reverence with kindness, obedience in affection, these form a lovable picture, nor by any means a rare one in the villages of the Eastern Isles.” It may here be interesting to note the very contradictory opinions that have been expressed upon this subject. W. G. PALGRAVE “Malay Life in the Philippines,” p. 146 JoHN FoREMAN “The Philippine Islands,” p. 194 “Home discipline and training of manners are quite ignored, even in the well-to-do families. “Children early trained by precept and example to good manners, show less disposition to noise and mischief than is ordi- nary elsewhere at their age.” Children are left without control, and allowed to do just as they please, hence they become ill- behaved and boorish.” As will be seen in my text, my own experience rather confirms Palgrave’s opinion, and I should say that even the children of the peas- antry would compare favourably both in manners and intelligence with the children at the Board Schools in London, and to say nothing of Glasgow or Liverpool. Amongst the Tagals, it is customary when speaking of or to a man to use the prefix Si—thus, Si José, Mr. Joseph; whilst a woman is spoken of or toas Aling Maria, Miss Mary. The word Po is used for Sir. Thus: Oo-po—Yes, sir; Hindi-po—No, sir; Uala-po—There is none, sir; Mayrooém-po—tThere is some, sir. Cleanliness. The sense of personal dignity and self-respect, the dominant feeling in the Malay nature, is shown in the Tagals by a general cleanliness in their persons and clothing. They usually live near water, and nearly all of them can swim. The heat of the climate makes bathing a pleasure, and as the tem- perature of the sea or river is commonly 83° F., a prolonged immersion causes no inconvenience. 160 SOCIAL CONDITIONS On the morning of a feast-day the number of bathers is creased, and at the time of high tide a very large proportion of the population seems to be in the water, both sexes and all ages mixing indiscriminately, the adults decently covered and all behaving themselves as decorously as the bathers at Brighton, Newport or Atlantic City. They have not yet arrived at that precise stage of civilisation that develops the Rough, the Larrikin, or the Hooligan. Palgrave says: “Al Malay may be a profligate, a gambler, a thief, a robber, or a murderer, he is never a cad.” Palgrave had not great opportunities of knowing the Tagals, but I confirm the above opinion, although I do not agree with the views on the future of the Philippines, and what is best for them, expressed in his fantastic and hyphen-infested verbiage, all seemingly written for elrect, Superstitions. The Tagal is extremely superstitious, and like his kinsman, the Dayak, he is a believer in omens, although he has not reduced them so completely to a system, and three centuries of Christianity have diverted his superstitions into other channels. In his mind, each cave, each ravine, each mountain, each pool, each stream, has its guardian spirit, to offend or to startle which may be dangerous. These are the jinni of Southern Arabia and Socotra. The Balete tree (Ficus Urostigima—Sp.) corresponds to our Witch Elm, and certainly at night has a most uncanny appearance. Each of these great trees has its guardian spirit or Tic-balan. Daring, indeed, would be the Indian who would pass such a tree, enter a cave, ascend a mountain, or plunge into a pool without bowing and uttering the Pasing tabi sa nono [By your leave, my Lord] that may appease the spirit’s wrath, just as the Bedouin of Dhofar cry, “Aleik Soubera—aleik soubera,” to propitiate the jinni. His mental attitude in this respect reminds me of a story told me many years ago by a lady residing in Hampshire. A lady neighbour of hers inquired from her whether she taught her children to bow when the Devil’s name was mentioned. My informant replied in the nega- tive, whereupon the lady remarked, “I do, I think it is safer.” This is the way with the Tagal, he bows because he thinks it is safer. If that prudent lady is still alive and may chance to read this, she may be pleased to learn that her opinion is shared by the whole Malay race. Child-birth has its anxieties everywhere, and the more artificial the SOCIAL CONDITIONS | 161 life the woman has led, the more she suffers at that critical time. The Tagal woman whose naturally supple frame has never been subjected to tight-lacing, nor compressed within a tailor-made costume, has a far easier time of it than her European sister, but superstition and quackery combine to terrify and ill-use her. The Patianac, an evil spirit, profits Ly the occasion, and his great delight is to obstruct the birth, or to kill and devour the infant. The patianac might be busy elsewhere, but from the ridge-pole of the house a bird of ill-omen, the dreadful Tic-tic, raises a warning cry, for its office and delight is to call the attention of the evil spirit to the oppor- tunity of doing mischief. Instantly every door and window is closed and every chink stopped to prevent its entrance, whilst the anxious father and his kinsmen, naked as they were born, walk around and underneath the house, slashing the air with sticks or bolos to frighten away the spirit. Sometimes a man will get up on the ridge-pole to drive away the Tic-tic. Meanwhile, in the stifling room, it is too often the case that violent means are used to expedite the birth, so violent, indeed, that they some- times result in the permanent injury or in the death of the woman. Several years ago the Government instituted an examination for midwives, and only those were allowed to practice who had been prop- erly instructed, so that these absurdities and cruelties are on the wane, except amongst the poorest or in outlying districts. The Astan is merely a cannibal ghost, but the Tagal ghost throws stones, a thing I have not heard of a ghost doing in Europe. All sorts of stories are told about the Asian, similar to ghost stories in other lands. About 1891 a house in Malate was stoned night after night, and although every effort was made to find out the authors, they were never discovered, and the natives steadfastly believed it to be the doing of the Astan. There is another superstitious idea firmly rooted in the minds of the Tagals and other natives, of which the following is an instance: A villainous-looking native had been captured with some property stolen from my house, and was sent to the lock-up at the police station, from whence he promptly escaped, but was recaptured later. My coachman, a most meritorious servant who had been with me for years, assured me in an impressive manner, and with an air of conviction, that the culprit was one of those wizards who are able to pass through a keyhole X. 1, 162 SOCIAL CONDITIONS by drawing themselves out into the thinness of a piece of string, and my other servants accepted this view implicitly. The famous Tulisanes, or bandits, thoroughly believe in the power of the Antin-Antin or amulet to render them invulnerable to bullets. It is, indeed, remarkable that notwithstanding the numbers of these crim- inals who have been shot by the Guardia Civil with their Antin-Antin upon them, this absurd belief should flourish, but there is no doubt it does. These charms consist of any sort of necromancer’s rubbish, or are sometimes writings in invocations, usually worn round the neck under the clothing. ; The profession of the Roman Catholic religion has perhaps helped this superstition to linger on, for the wearing of scapularies is common, especially amongst the women. These articles are manufactured for the © priests and some are sent out to Antipolo, to be blessed at the shrine of Nuestra Sefor de Buen Viage y de la Paz, and sold to the pilgrims who crowd in thousands to this shrine in May of each year. A Tagal woman sometimes wears as many as three of these scapu- laries hung from silk threads round her neck and covered by her upper garment. They usually dispose two in front, where they conceive the danger is greatest, and one on the back, as a further precaution against an attack from the rear. Wearing these holy amulets, and having crossed herself and uttered a prayer before coming downstairs in the morning, the Tagal wife or maid feels that she has done all she can, and that if any backsliding should occur, during the day, it will not be her fault. } She believes greatly in lucky or holy numbers. I heard the follow- ing story related by a native lady to a native priest when going to Batan- gas by steamer. The lady was telling the priest of her husband’s illness (it appeared to have been congestion of the lungs), and she prepared and applied a poultice of three heads of garlic in honour of the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity; this not producing the desired effect, she then made a poultice of five heads of garlic, in honour of the Five Wounds of our Blessed Saviour, and successively others of seven heads, in honour of the Seven Pains of the Blessed Virgin; twelve heads in honour of the Twelve Apostles, and last of all, a poultice of thirty-three heads of garlic in honour of the thirty-three years our Blessed Saviour remained on earth. The priest nodded approval as she went on, but as she stopped he said: “And then?” To which the lady replied: “Then he died.” SOCIAL CONDITIONS 163 This poor man came off easily, for in some cases people who suffer from fits and other diseases are thought to be possessed by devils, and are severely beaten to drive out the evil spirit. The patient does not always escape with his life. The women often dream of lucky numbers in the Manila Lottery and make every endeavour to purchase the number they have dreamt of. Amongst the Christian superstitions may be mentioned the feast of San Pascual Bailén at Obando. Those who attend this function are commonly the rowdier class of inhabitants of the Capital, and they go mostly on foot, making music and dancing on the way. They also dance in the courtyard in front of the church, not forgetting to refresh them- selves with strong drink in the meanwhile. This is not at all an edifying spectacle, for the dancers are covered with dust and with the perspiration from their active exertions. I do not know the legend that gives occasion to this curious form of devo- tion. Occasionally, and especially during Holy Week, another form of penitence is practised by the natives. I remember, about 1892, seeing one of these penitents, a man having a mask on his face, the upper part of his body bare, and a long chain fastened to one ankle and dragging on the ground behind him. In one hand he bore a flagellum, with which he from time to time lashed himself on the shoulders, which bore evi- dent marks of the discipline they had received. A youth who followed him occasionally jerked the chain, throwing the penitent violently at full length upon the dusty road. This form of penitence is not approved, however, by the priests, for when I called on the parish priest, the same evening, I mentioned the circumstance to him, and he directed the peni- tent to be locked up, to stop what he rightly termed a scandal. On many occasions the natives had got up a religious excitement, and great gatherings have taken place at some spot where a miraculous appearance of the Blessed Virgin, or some supernatural manifestation has been alleged to have occurred. All these affairs have been somewhat sceptically inquired into by the priests under a general order to this effect issued by the archbishop, and so far as my experience goes, the excessive religious ardor of the natives has rather been checked than stimulated. When writing about the Visayas I shall have more to say about misdirected religious zeal. The Tagals practise circumcision as a hygienic measure, and not as a religious rite. The operation is usually performed at the age of fourteen by a companion or friend of the 164 SOCIAL CONDITIONS patient, and a sharp flint or piece of volcanic glass (obsidian) is used for this purpose. From what I have heard, this custom is really main- tained by the women, who refuse their favours to the uncircumcised of their own nation, though with foreigners they are more complaisant. Cursing. In cursing, the Tagal displays a directness quite worthy of the Anglo-Saxon. All his remarks are very much to the point, and would have earned the approval of the late lamented and reverend author of the Ingoldsby Legends. Leaving out the world-wide reflections upon the virtues of an opponent’s female ancestry, since these appear to belong indiscriminately to all nations, the principal Tagal curses are as follows :-— 1. May an evil wind blow upon you. 2. May the earth open and swallow you up. 3. May the lightning strike you. 4. May the alligator eat you. The superiority of the Tagal style as compared with the French Mortbleu, Ventre bleu, must be apparent to all unprejudiced observers. The Tagal has drawn all his curses from the grand and awful opera- tions of nature in his own country, except the last, where he invokes the dreaded saurian, the most fearsome inhabitant of the Philippine swamps, rivers, and coasts—formerly venerated by his ancestors and respectiully addressed by them as nono, or grandfather. Under American guidance and example, I think the Tagals quite capable of developing a startling vocabulary of swear-words, and in course of time rivaling their instructors in profanity, with a touch of their old style to give a little local colour. Courtship. Courtship is sometimes a long business amongst the Tagals. It is still customary in the country districts for the impecunious candidate for matrimony to serve the father of the damsel he desires to wed for a period which may extend to a couple of years or more. He is called a Catipado, and is expected to make himself generally useful, and to take a hand in any labour that may be going on, sowing or reaping, mending the roof, or patching the canoe. It is his privilege to assist the girl of his choice in her labours. The girls of a household are expected to husk the rice for the next day’s use. This is done in the cool of the evening, out of doors, a wooden mortar and a long heavy pestle being used. It is a well-recognised occa- sion for the lover to assist and entertain his sweetheart. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 165 Very pretty do the village maidens look, as, lightly clothed in almost diaphanous garments, they stand beside the mortars plying the pestle, alternately rising on tiptoe, stretching the lithe figure to its full height and reach, then bending swiftly to give force to the blow. No attitude could display to more advantage the symmetry of form which is the Tagal maiden’s heritage, and few sights are more pleasing than a group of these tawny damsels husking paddy midst chat and laughter, while a tropical full moon pours its effulgence on their glisten- ing tresses and rounded arms. Marriage. But let us return to the Catipado. He must be very careful not to give cause of offence to the elders of the family, more especially towards the end of his term, as there may be a disposition amongst them to dismiss him, and take on another to begin a new term. In fact, many natives have shown themselves so unwilling to consent to their daugh- ter’s marriage, when no sufficient reason could be given for their refusal, that the Governor-General, representing the Crown, is entrusted with a special power of granting the paternal consent in such cases. No regular marriage can be celebrated whilst the girl is a minor, without the father’s consent. When this is refused, and the patience of the lovers is exhausted, the girl leaves her father’s house and is deposited in the house of the fiscal, or churchwarden, under the care of his wife. A petition on stamped paper is then prepared, reciting the circum- stances; this goes to the parish priest and to the Gobernadorcillo, who require the father to state the grounds of his refusal. If they are satis- fied that no good reason exists, the petition, with their approval noted on it, goes to the Governor-General, and in due time a notification appears in the official Gazette that the Governor-General has been pleased to overrule the father’s negative, and a license (on stamped paper also) for the marriage to be celebrated, is delivered to the priest. This procedure is very necessary, but it has the disadvantage of being slow and expensive, so that in some cases, instead of adopting this course, the youthful pair allow themselves some advances of the priv- ileges of matrimony, and perhaps there arrives a time when the obdurate parent finds himself obliged to consent to legalise an accomplished fact to avoid an open scandal. The erring damsel, however, may think herself lucky if she escapes a fatherly correction, laid on with no grudging hand, before the reluctant consent is granted. 166 SOCIAL CONDITIONS The priest will, of course, require the youthful sinners to confess and do penance for their previousness before he will marry them. The marriage ceremony is a very simple one, and usually takes place after early Mass. The priest fixes the fee according to the means of the party; it is often a substantial one. After the ceremony comes a Catapisan, or assembly, when the relatives and friends are entertained. There will be music, and unless the priest disapproves of dancing, that will be indulged in. The Augustinians mostly allow dancing, but the Dominicans often object to it as an immoral amusement. The house will be hung with bright-coloured cloths and paper lan- terns ; the table loaded with refreshments, both light and heavy. Wedding Feasts Roast pig is a standing dish at these feasts, the animal being roasted whole, on a spit over a fire made on the ground. A professional roaster superintends the operation, and the pig is brought to a fine even colour all over. Sometimes there are roast turkeys or roast mutton and kid, possibly beef cooked in various ways, surely fish of different kinds, fresh, salted, or smoked; the indispensable boiled rice or morisqueta, and an abundance of sweets, fruits in syrup, guava jelly, and Dutch cheese. There will be chocolate and perhaps coffee. As to drinks, besides some native brews, there will be Norwegian or German export beer, or Tennant’s beer in stone bottles, square-face gin, and Spanish red wine (Vino Tinto). Unlimited Buyo, cigarettes and cigars are provided. All these things are hospitably pressed upon all comers, especially upon any European present. If his politeness prevents his refusing this miscel- laneous assortment, unless he is favoured with the digestion of an ostrich, he will rue it next day, and perhaps for several days. The worthy priest is naturally in the place of honour, and like the wise man he mostly is, he perhaps brings, slung under. his habit, or sends before- hand, a capacious leather bottle, with a supply of generous wine direct from some convent vineyard on the peninsula, a pure natural wine, undefiled and unfortified by German industrial spirit. A tall and portly Augustine monk, in his spotless and ample white robes, presents a very imposing and apostolic appearance, and looks quite in his place at the head of the table. The host seldom sits down with his guests, but busies himself attending to their wants. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 167 Tagals as Soldiers and Sailors The houses of the well-to-do natives are large and airy, and are kept scrupulously clean under the vigilant eye of the mistress. Hospitality is a characteristic of the Tagal. According to his means he keeps open house on religious feast-days or on family festivals, and readily invites to his table at any time travelers who may be passing through the town. Having enjoyed their hospitality on many occasions, I can testify to their kindness and liberality. They placed at my dis- posal their riding-ponies, vehicles or canoes, and did all in their power to show me anything remarkable in their neighbourhood. The Tagals make good soldiers, and can march long distances bare- footed. Morga remarks how quickly they learned to use the arquebus or musket in the wars of the conquest. They gave proofs of their pluck and endurance when assisting the French in Tonquin. If well led they will advance regardless of danger; when once engaged they become frenzied and blood-thirsty, most difficult to restrain. They are not improved by being made to wear gloves, boots, helmets, and European uniforms. In this they are not singular, for the Ceylon Rifle Regiment (a Malay corps) was utterly ruined, and never did any good after being put into boots and gloves by some narrow-minded martinet. As sailors they are unsurpassed in the East. They navigate their schooners. and lorchas with much skill, although the rigging and outfit is seldom kept in thorough good order unless they have a Spanish captain. They serve both as sailors and firemen in the fine flotilla of coast- ing-steamers belonging to Manila, and they manned all the smaller ves- sels of the Spanish navy in the Philippines. Most of the British and foreign steamers in the far East carry four Manila men as quartermasters. They are considered to be the most skilful helmsmen. Their ability as mechanics is remarkable. They bear out entirely Morga’s description of them: “Of good talent for anything they undertake.” They will, without any European supervision, heave down wooden sailing-vessels up to about 1,000 tons, and repair the keel, or strip, caulk, and re-copper the bottom. I have often seen this done. They build, from the excellent hard wood of the country, brigantines, schoon- ers, lorchas, also cascos, and other craft for inland navigation and 168 SOCIAL CONDITIONS shallow waters. These latter vessels are most ingeniously contrived, and admirably adapted to the conditions under which they are to be used, and although not decked, carry their cargoes dry, and in good order, in the wettest weather. They make the most graceful canoes, and paddle or punt them with remarkable dexterity. . In Manila and Cavite are to be found a fair number of native engine-fitters, turners, smiths and boiler-makers. There must be some 400 steam sugar-mills in the islands (besides 6,000 cattle-mills). The engine-drivers and firemen are all natives, and mostly Tagals. There are also in the capital large numbers of native house-carpen- ters, quarrymen, stone-masons, and some bricklayers and brick-makers. Curiously enough, foundry work is not much done by Tagals, although when Legaspi arrived in Luzon he not only found cannon mounted at Manila, but there was a cannon-foundry there, and another at Tondo. There are foundries at the latter place to this day belonging to Chinese half-castes, but church-bells are more to their way now than cannon. They, however, cast small brass mortars with handles like quart pots, which are used for firing salutes at the feasts of the church. But I think most of the workmen were then, and are now, Chinese. They make their own gunpowder, and fireworks of all kinds. They are inordinately fond of these, and get up very creditable displays. They are careless in handling them, and I was an eye-witness of an explosion of fireworks during a water féte, on the passing in front of the gov- ernor’s palace at Malacafian, when a number of people were killed. I never learned how many had perished, and the newspapers were for- bidden to enlarge upon it. Excellent carriages are built in Manila entirely by native labour, the carromatas, or two-wheeled vehicles used for traveling, being made in the suburbs, or in Malabon. Carriage-building is an important trade, for an incredible number of vehicles of all sorts are used in Manila. Of an evening, in the Luneta, some hundreds may be seen, and on One occasion, at the races of the Jockey Club in Santa Mesa, two thou- sand vehicles were reported to be present. Painting and decorating is executed by Manila men in excellent style. This art was taught them by Alberoni, and other Italians. Their pupils have covered the walls of many buildings with frescoes in the SOCIAL CONDITIONS 169 Italian style, very fairly done. There is much scope for their art in decorating altars and shrines. The Tagals also show some talent for sculpture, as any visitor to Manila can see for himself by inspecting the Jesuit Church, which is a marvel of patient artistic labour, having taken eleven years to construct. Some of the carving there, however, is so delicate and minutely detailed, that it appears more suitable for a show case in a museum than for the adornment of a place of worship. Of course, every detail of design is due to the Jesuits themselves, amongst whom talented men of every profession can be found. As a fisherman, the Tagal excels, and the broad expanse of Manila Bay, some 700 square miles in area, gives ample scope for his ingenuity. He practises every kind of fishing, Corrales de Pesca, or fish-stakes within the five-fathom line, casting nets and seines in the shallow water, huge sinking nets attached to bamboo shear-legs mounted on rafts in the estuaries, drift nets and line-fishing in the deeper parts of the bay. From Tondo, from Parafiaque, Las Pifias, Bacoor, and Cavite Viéjo, and from dozens of other villages, go hundreds of large canoes, crowded with men, and heaped up with nets, to fish near the San Nicolas Bank, or about Corregidor Island, and they often return with large catches. Some fish by night, with torch and spear; in fact, they seem to be quite at home at any kind of fishing. The nets and sails of the canoes, and the clothes of the fishermen are all tanned by them with the bark of the camanchile tree. The salting, drying, or smoking of the fish caught in the bay is quite an extensive business. The smoked sardines, or tinapa, are very tasty, as also the pickled mullet roes called Bagén de Lisa. But the small shrimps, fermented in a jar and brought to a particular stage of putrefaction, much appreciated by the natives, will not suit European or American tastes. The vast Bay of Manila holds fish and mammals of all sorts and sizes, from small fry to that huge but harmless monster of the deep, Rhinodon tipicus, with a mouth like the opening of a hansom cab, scoop- ing in jelly-fish by the bushel. The péje-rey, like a smelt, the lenguado, or sole, the lisa, or mullet, the bacéco, corbina, pAampano, and others whose names I have forgotten, are excellent. The oysters are good, but very small. Prawns are excel- lent, large and cheap. Crabs are good, but large ones are not plentiful. Clawless lobsters are caught amongst the rocks of Corregidor and 170 SOCIAL, CONDITIONS Mariveles. The largest turtle I have ever seen was caught off Malabon. It can be seen in the Jesuits’ Museum, Manila. Sharks of all sorts, enormous saw-fish, hideous devil-fish, and mon- strous conger eels, as well as poisonous black and yellow sea-snakes, abound, so that the fisherman does not have everything his own way. Amongst these men are to be found some excellent divers. I have found them quite able to go down to the keel of a large ship and report whether any damage has been done. Where a sheet of copper has been torn off, they have nailed on a new sheet, getting in two or three nails every time they went down. I enquired from one of these men who had frequently dived for me, when a European diver with diving-gear could not be obtained, if he was not afraid of sharks? He answered, “No es hora del tiburon’’—it is not the sharks’ time—and I found he considered that he was very fairly safe from the sharks between ten and four. Before ten and after four was a dangerous time, as the sharks were on the look- out fora meal. I cannot say that I should like to trust to this, especially as I have seen sharks about at other times, and one afternoon, in the bay, had to keep off a hammer-headed shark from coming near a British diver who was examining the rudder of a steamer, by firing at it from the stern. Some sharks are heavy and slow-moving creatures, but the hammer-headed kind are endowed with a surprising activity, and twist and turn like an eel. My native diver informed me that he was much more afraid of the Manta than of any shark, and that once when he was diving for some purpose—I do not recollect when—at the bottom a shade fell on him, and, on looking up, he beheld an enormous manta right above him—in his words, “as big as a lighter.”’ However, it passed on, and he was able to regain the surface. Perhaps the most remarkable talent possessed by the Tagal is his gift for instrumental music. Each parish has its brass band supplied with European instru- ments, the musicians generally wearing a quasi-military uniform. If the village is a rich one, there is usually a string band as well. They play excellently, as do the military bands. Each infantry battalion has its band, whilst that of the Peninsular Artillery, of ninety performers, under a bandmaster holding the rank of lieutenant, was one of the finest bands I have ever heard. There were few countries where more music could be heard gratis than in the Philippines, and for private dances these bands could be hired at moderate rates. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 171 The Tagal is also a good agriculturist. According to his lights, he cultivates paddy with great care. It is all raised in seed-plots, the soil of which is carefully prepared, and fenced about. The fields are ploughed and harrowed whilst covered with water, so that the surface is reduced to soft mud. When the ground is ready for planting, the whole poula- tion turns out, and, being supplied with the young shoots in bundles, of which tally is kept, proceed to plant each individual shoot of paddy by hand. Ankle-deep in the soft mud of the paddy-fields stand long rows of bare-legged men, women and children, each in a stooping position, hold- ing against the body with the left hand a large bundle of rice-plants, incessantly and rapidly seizing a shoot with the right hand, and plung- ing it into the black slime with the forefinger extended. Hour after hour the patient toil goes on, and day after day, in all the glare of the burning sun, reflected and intensified from the surface of the black water, till the whole surface has been planted. The matan- dang-sa-naya, or village elder, then announces how many millions of rice shoots have been put in. The labour is most exhausting, from the stooping position, which is obligatory, and because the eyes become inflamed from the reflection of the sun on the black water. As the paddy is planted during the rainy season, it often happens that the work is done under a tropical downpour instead of a blazing sun. When driving along a road through paddy-fields in October, it seems incredible that every blade of that luxuriant crop has been trans- planted by hand. Yet the people who do this are branded as lazy. I think that they are quite ready to work for a sufficient inducement. Whenever I had work to execute I never experienced any difficulty in obtaining men. I made it a rule to pay every man with my own hands every Saturday his full wages without deductions. On Monday morn- ing, if I wanted 300 men, there would be 500 to pick and choose from. I should like to see some of their depreciators try an hour’s work plant- ing paddy or poling a casco up stream. The undulating nature of the ground renders it necessary to divide paddy land into small plots of irregular outline at varying levels, divided from each other by ridges of earth called pilapiles, so as to retain the rain or irrigation water, allowing it to descend slowly from level to level till it reaches its outlet at the lowest point. The Tagals fully jus- tify their Turanian origin by the skill and care which they show in irrigation. About Manila, the sacate, or meadow-grass, which is the 172 SOCIAL CONDITIONS principal food of the thousands of ponies in the city, is cultivated on lands which are exactly at a level to be flooded by the spring tides. The mango-tree is carefully cultivated, and the fruit is, to some extent, forced by lighting fires of leaves and twigs under these trees every evening in the early part of the year to drive off insects, and give additional warmth. In Batangas and La Luguna, and, to some extent, in Bulacan, the Tagals cultivate the sugar-cane successfully. But where they really shine, where all their care is lavished, where nothing is too much trouble, is in the cultivation of the buyo (Piper betel). This is a climbing plant, and is grown on sticks like hops. There were many plantations of this near Pineda, which I frequently visited. It is grown in small fields, enclosed by hedges or by rows of trees to keep off the wind. 3 The soil is carefully prepared, and all weeds removed. As the tendrils grow up, the sticks are placed for them. The plants are watered by hand, and leaf by leaf carefully examined every morning to remove all caterpillars or other insects. The plants are protected from the glare of the sun by mat-shades supported on bamboos. The ripe leaves are gathered fresh every morning, and taken to market, where they find a ready sale at remunerative prices for chewing with the areca nut and a pinch of slaked shell lime. Whenever I have had Tagal hunters with me deer-shooting, I have been struck with their knowledge of the natural history of their locality. They thoroughly understood the habits of the game, and almost always foretold correctly the direction from which the deer would approach the guns. , They have names for every animal and bird, and for the different ages or conditions, or size of antlers, of the deer. Even insects and reptiles are named by them; they could give details of their habits, and knew whether they were poisonous or dan- gerous. They always showed themselves greatly interested in sport, and much appreciated a good shot. They spoke of a gun that killed well as a hot gun (baril mainit). If they were trusted with a gun they were very reluctant to spend a cartridge unless for a dead certainty. If two cartridges are given to a hunter, he will bring in two deer or pigs, otherwise he will apologise for wasting a cartridge, and explain how it happened. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 173 Their usual way of taking game is to set strong nets of abaca in the woods in the form of a V, then the beaters and dogs drive the game towards the hunters, who are concealed near the apex, and who kill the deer or wild pigs with their lances whilst entangled in the nets. I have found the Tagals very satisfactory as domestic servants, . although not so hard-working as the Ilocanos. Some of them could clean glass or plate as well as an English butler, and could lay the table for a dinner party and ornament tastefully with flowers and ferns, fold- ing the napkins like a Parisian waiter. They could also write out the ménu (their orthography having been previously corrected), and serve the dinner and wines in due sequence without requiring any directions during the meal. Some of them remained in my service the whole time I was in the Philippines. One of them, Paulino Morillo, came to England with me in charge of my two sons, and afterwards made three voyages to Cuba with me. I gratefully acknowledge his faithful service. I did not find them sufficiently punctual and regular as cooks, nor did they make their purchases in the market to as much advantage as the Chinese cooks, who never bid against one another to raise the price. As clerks and store-keepers I found the Tagals honest, assiduous, and well-behaved. As draughtsmen they were fairly skilful in drawing from hand sketches, and excelled in copying or tracing, but were quite untrustworthy in taking out quantities and computing. Some of them could write beautiful headings, or design ornamental title-pages. I have by me some of their work that could not be done better even in Germany or France. But the more skilful they were the more irregular was their attendance, and the more they had learned the worse they behaved. When doing business with the Tagals, I found that the elder men could be trusted. If I gave them credit, which was often the case, for one or two years, I could depend upon the money being paid when due, unless some calamity such as a flood or conflagration had rendered it absolutely impossible for them to find the cash. In such a case (which seldom happened) they would advise me beforehand, and perhaps bring a portion of the money, giving a pagaré, bearing interest, for the remain- der, and never by any possibility denying the debt. I never made a bad debt amongst them, and gladly testify to their punctilious honesty. This idea of the sacredness of an obligation seems to prevail amongst 174 SOCIAL CONDITIONS many of the Malay races, even among the pagan savages, as I had occa- sion to observe when I visited the Tagbantias in Palawan (Paragua). They certainly did not learn this from the Spaniards. The More Instruction the Less Honesty When dealing with the younger men who had been educated in Manila, in Hong Kong, or even in Europe, I found that this idea had been eradicated from them, and that no sufficient sense of honour had been implanted in its stead. In fact, I may say that, whilst the unlettered agriculturist, with his old-fashioned dress, and quiet, dignified manner, inspired me with the respect due to an honest and worthy man, the feeling evolved from a discussion with the younger and educated men, dressed in European clothes, who had been pupils in the Atenéo Municipal, or in Santo Tomas, was less favourable, and it became evident to me that, although they might be more instructed than their fathers, they were morally below them. Either their moral training had been deficient, or their natures are not improved by education. I usually preferred to do busi- ness with them on a cash basis. Unsuitable Traiming Dare I, at the tail-end of the nineteenth century, in the days of Board Schools, County Councils, conscientious objectors, and Hooli- gans, venture to recall to mind a saying of that grand old Conservative, the Peruvian Solomon, Tupac Inca Yupanqui? “Science should only be taught to those of generous blood, for the meaner sort are only puffed up and rendered vain and arrogant by it. Neither should such mingle in the affairs of state, for by that means high offices are brought into disrepute.” That great monarch’s words exactly express my conclusions about the young Tagals and other natives. To take a young native lad away from his parents, to place him in a corrupted capital like Manila, and to cram him with the intricacies of Spanish law, while there is probably, not in all those around him, one single honest and upright man he can look up to for guidance and example, is to deprive him of whatever principles of action he may once have possessed, whilst giving him no guide for his future conduct. He acquires the European vices without the virtues; loses his native modesty and self-respect, and develops too often into a con- temptible pica-pleito, or pettifogger, instead of becoming an honest farmer. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 175 The more educated Tagals are fond of litigation, and with the assistance of native or half-caste lawyers will carry on the most frivol- Ous and vexatious lawsuit with every artifice that cunning and utter unscrupulousness can suggest. The corrupt nature of the Spanish courts is a mainstay to such people. Although they may be possessed of ample means litigants often obtain from the court permission to sue a foreigner in forma pauperis. They are unscrupulous about evidence, and many will perjure themselves or bring false witnesses without shame. It is said that blank stamped paper of any year can be obtained for a sufficient price: for the purpose of forging documents relating to the sale of land; as there are people who regularly keep it for this purpose. The feeling of envy is strong within them, and any Spaniard or foreigner who appears to be succeeding in an industrial enterprise in the provinces, such as planting or mining, is sure, sooner or later, to be attacked by the pettifoggers or their men of straw, and he will be bled heavily when he comes before the courts, and perhaps have to go to the Court of Appeal or even to the Tribunal Suprémo in Madrid before he can obtain a verdict in his favour. The credulity of the Tagal is remarkable; he has on occasion given way to outbursts of ferocity, involving death and destruction to numbers of innocent people. In 1820, during an epidemic of cholera, he was led to believe that this strange sickness had been produced by the foreigners, who had poisoned the water. An indiscriminate massacre of foreigners was the - consequence of this calumny, and but few escaped. The authorities, always prompt to repress uprisings against the Government, allowed time for the foreigners to be massacred before they interfered. It is not easy to say how many English, French, or Americans met their deaths at the hands of the populace, for such details are never allowed to be published. I may say, however, that one should not be too hard on the Tagals for this crime, since at a much later date a massacre of priests occurred in Madrid, on account of a similar belief. It was started because a lad, the servant of a priest, was seen to throw some white powder into the Fuente Castellana. JI have not at hand the details of this massacre, but the friars were slaughtered like pigs. In the dreadful epidemic of cholera in 1882, the natives behaved very well, and I must give General Primo de Rivera credit for keeping 176 SOCIAL, CONDITIONS strict order and promptly organising the construction of temporary hospitals, the inspection of every parish of the city, the conveyance of the sick to hospital, and the burial of the dead. It’was done under military direction, and with the assistance of the priests, the civil author- ities, and the principal inhabitants. No disturbances occurred owing to the strong hand of the Governor-General, although some of the evil- disposed natives began to murmur about the doctors carrying about the disease. The mortality was dreadful ; I believe that some 30,000 people lost their lives in the city and province of Manila in three or four months. In order to nurse the sick and bury the vast number of dead, it was necessary to employ the convicts and prisoners. All these people behaved remarkably well, although many succumbed to the disease. The survivors were pardoned outright, or had their sentences reduced. If the Governor-General had shown signs of weakness, the horrors of 1820 might have been repeated. To give a better idea of the credulity of the Tagals and other natives, I may say that in 1868 telegrams were received in Manila (via Hong Kong) which were made public in the islands, announcing the Spanish revolution of September, and the news, with stupendous exag- gerations, reached the remotest villages and the most miserable huts. A general and indelible idea took possession of the minds of the natives that Revolution (they thought it was a new emperor or a great per- sonage) had decreed that all were equal, that there should be no dif- ference between Indians and Spaniards, that the latter had to return to Spain and Indians be substituted in all employments, and that the tribute would be greatly reduced. That there would be no conscription nor corvée (personal work), that the Pope would name several Indian bishops, and that the Spanish priests would return to the Peninsula. That a new captain-general would arrive who would marry a native lady, who would be made a princess, that their children would be kings and sovereigns of the Philippine empire. _ All this was confirmed by prophecies, by dreams, and revelations, and great miracles by the Virgin of Antipolo and of St. Joseph, and other patrons of the Indies, not omitting St. Peter, for whom the native clergy profess a profound veneration, and who is the patron saint of a brotherhood which has caused much trouble in the Philippines. General Gandara, informed of all these absurdities by the friars, did not fail to appreciate the immense importance of the movement SOCIAL CONDITIONS 117 which, like the teachings of the so-called gods of Panay and Samar who collected thousands of followers, might produce a general insurrection, He therefore took due precautions, and invited all the Spaniards in the Philippines, without distinction of party, in support of the Government constituted in Spain. There was, however, much agitation and much traveling to and fro amongst the native clergy and the pettifogging lawyers. It was, however, not till 1872 that the conspirators succeeded in producing the mutiny of Cavite, which was quickly suppressed, with much slaughter of the mutineers. The chief amusement of the Tagal is cock-fighting. I shall not describe this well-known sport, but will remark that it provides no inconsiderable revenue. The right of building and running the cock- pits of each province is farmed out to Chinese or Chinese half-breeds, and no combats may take place except in these places. They are opened after Mass on Sundays and feast-days, and on some other days by special leave of the authorities. The love of this sport and the hope of gain is so general that the majority of the natives of Manila are breeders of game-cocks, which they tend with assiduous care, and artisans often carry their favourite birds to their work and tether them in the shade, where they can keep them in view. MHorse-fights occasionally take place. The ponies of the Philippines, although not usually vicious to man, will fight savagely with each other, and inflict severe bites.. I remember a case where two ponies harnessed to a victoria began fighting and a Guardia Civil attempted to separate them, when one of the ponies seized him by the thigh, lifted him off his feet, and shook him as a ter- rier might shake a rat; the flesh of the man’s thigh was torn away and the bone left bare. This dreadful wound caused his death. The occur- rence took place in front of the church of Binondo in Manila. Bull fights have been an utter failure in Manila, although many attempts have been made to establish them. Flying kites is a great amusement with young and old in the early months of the year, when the northeast monsoon blows. Fights are organised: the competing kites have crescent-shaped pieces of steel attached to the tails, and the competitor who can cut the string of his opponent’s kite by causing his own to swoop suddenly across it, is the winner. Betting on the result is common. The Tagals are also fond of the theatre, and some years ago there was a Tagal theatre in Binondo where comedies in that language were played. I have also met strolling players in the country towns. But of all kinds of shows a good circus is the one that fetches his x iz 178 SOCIAL CONDITIONS last dollar out of the Tagal. Guiseppe Chiarini reaped a silver harvest in Manila on both occasions he pitched his tents there. His advance agent, Maya, a Chilian, paved the way for success, and the pompous announcement that Chiarini was born in the sacred city of Rome, greatly impressed the natives, who flocked in thousands to his circus. Chiarini considered himself able to tame the most vicious horse, and purchased a fine Manila pony that no one could manage. The beast, however, was not subdued by his powers, and, seizing the tamer’s cheek, bit off a large piece. On feast-days in the larger towns, open-air plays are sometimes given, and what with preparations, rehearsals, and performance, absorb the attention of a large number of the inhabitants for a couple of months. I witnessed a very notable performance of this kind some years ago at Balayan, in the province of Batangas, the characters being played by the sons and daughters of the principal people there. The subject was taken from the “Wars of Grenada.” In the first act we saw a Christian king and his court, also his only and peerless daughter. After these had had their say, an ambassador from the Moslem king was announced, and the king summoned his council to consider the communication. He took his seat upon the throne, with gray-bearded councillors on each side. The Moslem envoy, and his suite and escort, entered on horseback and very unnecessarily galloped about and gave an exhibition of their horse- manship. The envoy, still on horseback, harangued the king, and arro- gantly demanded the hand of the beauteous princess for his master, threatening war to the knife in case of refusal. He then retired to his camp. Next came the discussion of the demand, which the grey-beards think it hopeless to resist. The Moslem envoy was sent for, and amid great grief the princess was about to be confided to his care, when there rushed in a young Christian warrior and his followers, who swore they would never allow a Christian princess to wed a Paynim, and dismissed the envoy with contumelious remarks. He retired vowing vengeance. All this occupied a long time, and I did not remain for the rest. I think it took two days to act. But from the volleys of musketry and firing of rockets and mortars which I heard, a sanguinary war must have been waged and many of the characters must have perished. The play was acted in a more spirited way than usual; some of the male performers declaimed their parts with energy. Some were mounted on fine ponies, and were well got up and armed. SOCIAL CONDITIONS 179 The girls’ dresses were rich, and they wore a great deal of jewelry. Some of the princesses were very handsome girls. There is a sort of superstition that any girl performing in one of these pieces is sure to be married within a year. This makes them very ready to undertake a part, as they obtain an excellent opportunity to display their charms to ad- vantage, and so help to fulfill the prediction. The play was witnessed by the mass of the population of Balayan and by numerous visitors from the neighbouring towns. It was considered a very successful per- formance, and it carried my memory over the wide Pacific to Peru, where I have seen similar plays acted by the country people in the Plaza of Huacho. Tagal Literature Tagal literature does not amount to very much, and the policy of the Government of late years has been to teach Spanish as well as the native dialects in the schools. This did not meet the approval of the old school of priests ; but many of the younger ones have accepted the Gov- ernment view. In the Exhibition of the Philippines, Madrid, 1887, Don Vicente Barrantes showed twenty volumes of grammars and vocab- ularies of the Philippine dialects, and thirty-one volumes of popular native poetry, besides two volumes of native plays. The Reverend Father Raimundo Lozano exhibited twenty-eight volumes of religious works in the Visayas-Panayano dialect, and the Reverend Father Fran- cisco Valdez a study of the roots of the Ilocan dialect in manuscript. Many works in the native dialects have been written by the Spanish priests, such as one by the Reverend Father Manuel Blanco, the learned author of the “Flora Filipina,’ of which I give the title and the first Vier SC ao Tagaloc verses to assist in dying “Manga dalit na Tagalog at pag- well. tulong sa mamaluatay na ta- nang Cristiana.” Manila, 1867, VIII, 62 pag 8°. “Aba bumabasa baquin baga caya Tila camuntima i nata cang bohala.” I now give the title of a secular poem in English and Tagal, that the reader may compare the words and note the subject :-— 180 Story of the life of the beaute- ous shepherdess Jacobina, a native of Moncada, who be- came the wife of the King, Policarpio de Villar, in the kingdom of Dalmatia, and bore a son named Villardo. ~ SOCIAL CONDITIONS “Salita at buhay nang marilang na pastora na si Jacobina tubo sa Villa Moncada Naguing asaua nang Policarpio de Vil- lar sa caharian nang Dalmacia nagga roon nang isang sup- ligna anac ang pangaia i si Villardo.” The poem begins— “O maamong Ester mananalong Judit Mariang linanag nitong sang daigdig.” and concludes— “Panang nang pupuri ang lahat nang cabig Sa yanang inaguling ang tinamo i sangit.” I do not think it is necessary to quote any more, as this gives the reader sufficient idea of the language. There is much that is good in the Tagal, much to like and admire. Antonio de Morga, Sinibaldo de Mas, Tomas de Comyn, Paul de la Gironiére, Jagor, Bowring, Palgrave, Foreman, Stevens, Worcester— all have some good to say of him, and with reason. But the pirati- cal blood is strong in him yet. He requires restraint and guid- ance from those who have a higher standard for their actions than he has. Left to himself he would infallibly relapse into savagery. At the same time he will not be governed by brute force, and under oppression or contumelious treatment he would abandon the plains, retire to the mountains, and lead a predatory life. Although not just himself nor truthful, he can recognise and revere truth and justice in a master or governor. Courageous himself, only a courageous man can win his respect. He is grateful, and whoever can secure his reverence and gratitude will have no trouble in leading him. I have testified to the Tagal’s excellence in many handicrafts and callings, yet I greatly doubt whether they have the mental and moral equipment for any of the professions. I should not like to place my affairs in the hands of a Tagal lawyer, to trust my life in the hands of a Tagal doctor, nor to purchase an estate on the faith of a Tagal sur- veyor’s measurement. I do not say that they are all untrustworthy, nor that they can never become fit for the higher callings, but they are not fit for them now, SOCIAL CONDITIONS 181 and it will take a long time, and a completely changed system of educa- tion, before they can become fit. What they want are examples of a high type of honour and morality that they could look up to and strive to imitate. There are such men in America. Whether they will be sent to the Philippines is best known to Mr. McKinley. 182 ARCHAOLOGY THE BEGINNING OF ARCHAEOLOGY may be said to have been made with the decipherment of the Rosetta stone. This was found at Rosetta in 4799. It contained three inscriptions, one in hieroglyphic, one in demotic and the other in Greek. There was reason to suspect that the three inscriptions were identical in meaning and with this clue scholars set to work to decipher the hitherto unknown hieroglyphics. Young and Gell made a good beginning and by 1832 Champollion had suc- ceeded in deciphering all the inscriptions. Before this result had been reached Grotefend made a substantial start at explaining the cuneiform characters of Mesopotamia by compar- ing the known names of Persian kings with cuneiform inscriptions he thought might contain the names. This gave the key, and Bournouf and Lassen (1836-1844) completed the short Persian alphabet. Next Raw- linson, from the trilingual inscription at Behiston in Persian, Assyrian, and Vannic worked out the great Assyrian syllable-system of six hun- dred signs. Since this time Egypt and Mesopotamia have furnished magnificent fields for research into times hitherto lost below the horizon of history, and the date of the beginnings of civilization has been placed further and further back. The relics of the Egyptian literature hidden in papyrus rolls be- longing to the period from A. D. to 1000 B. C. have been deciphered. (The Book of the Dead, showing the worship of Osiris, (see volume I) is one of the great finds of this period. Study of the remains of temples, tombs and towns has shown before this period and from 1000 to 1600 + iLLINOIS. GF THE TY vt i) oe ud Be Z ro) ARCH AOLOGY 183 B. C. the everyday life of a great empire. Anterior to this had come the invasion of the Hyksos; prior to the Hyksos the civilization of the twelfth dynasty (about 2600 B. C.) ; then back beyond a period of decay, the civilization of the Old Kingdom (4500-3500 B. C.) that built the grandest of the pyramids and monumental remains. This was preceded by the invasion of a people probably from the direction of the Red Sea (about 5000 B. C.), who brought with them much of the base of the civilization of the Old Kingdom; and dating probably from as early as 6000-5000 B. C. are found relics of a primitive Egyptian race that built towns of brick, used linen, leather, pottery, wood, ivory, copper, and polished flint. The remains in Chaldea seem to be even more ancient. The re- ligious literature given in the first volume dates further back than any literature of Egypt. Libraries of clay tablets seem to have been in existence before 3000 B. C. Researches have not been as extensive in the sites of towns as in Egypt and the.oldest civilization is not as well known. We give below a summary of the facts of the Babylonian period. In Greece, archzology has discovered the remains of high civiliza- tions existing in the Mycenian age before the Doric invasion of about 1000 B. C. The earliest relics of civilization seem to go back to about 3000 B. C. But archzology pushes its researches into the study of primitive man far back before the eras of even Chaldea or Egypt. The great ages of these countries correspond to the ages when men used bronze largely for weapons and ornaments (about 3000-1000 B. C.) and even to the age of copper (5000-3000 B. C.). The lake dwellers belonged to the latter period or even before. Prior to them there were work- ers in polished stone. The ages of the cave dwellers, who at the last were workers in bone, and at the first were rude shapers of stone, carry us back no man knows how many thousand or tens of thousand years. 184 Pe. REISER A SKETCH OF BABYLONIAN SOCIETY THE PREPARATION of a history of Babylonian culture is surrounded with so many difficulties that only those but slightly acquainted with its aspects would dare to undertake the task. In fact, the most necessary preliminary studies have been begun only within the last few years. Historical works on the subject show a disregard or ignorance of the elements of the history of culture, while the preliminary works which have appeared lack more or less the bond of interrelationship. It is, therefore, not an unimportant work to give for a part of the history of culture an outline, or skeleton, about which the scattered and discon- nected studies, thus far attempted, may rally, and thus make it pos- sible to proceed more methodically in the consideration of individual questions. For these reasons I have decided to condense several lectures writ- ten some years ago into the present publication, which neither claims completeness nor to pronounce the final word. On the contrary, I hope that sharp criticism will be aroused by this sketch, through which the common aim or object may be advanced. As this is really a sketch of the subject, I have refrained from citing and collating authorities which are to find their place in monographs to follow; and this also explains why I have taken up society as a unit, and scarcely more than indicated its development. The work is based mainly upon the conditions of Babylon in the sixth and seventh centuries before the Christian era. In going still farther backward, the task is to unravel the close-meshed fabric of Babylonian culture and to study the history of its development along the individual strands. In the activity of thousands of years the Euphrates and the Tigris have built up from alluvial drift the territory between their arms. Sand and stones, stripped by the melting snow from the Armenian Moun- tain peaks, have formed deposits which pushed the Persian Gulf ever farther back toward the south and east. Thus we have in the south ARCHAOLOGY 185 a province with no mountainous formations, but only plains and hills of sand, with but few stones. The plain is traversed by the two rivers named, which differ in relative level at two points; at one place the water of the Euphrates flows over and feeds the Tigris, while 100 miles southward an equalization occurs by the reflux of the Tigris into the Euphrates. If we consider the climate of the country, we find in the south, in the whole of Babylonia, the characteristics of the hot desert climate modified only by the moisture from the rivers. The desert extends up along the Euphrates and spreads far away beyond it over to Mesopo-- tamia. Nevertheless we must form no false picture of the Mesopotamian desert. After heavy rains it is overgrown by vegetation with wonderful rapidity ; and the traveler from the Occident is often amazed when, after the rain, the entire desert appears yellow with crocus plants or blue with other growths. At such times the Arabian nomads cross the Euphrates to pasture their cattle, and thus thousands of years ago strife arose between the residents and the invaders, which continued yet further during the historical development. So far as historical notices accessible up to this time extend, there still remains the sole probability that in the south of the country tray- ersed by the two. streams, northward, eastward, and westward from the Persian Gulf, originally dwelt people of a race who used an agglutina- tive language, were characterized by a compact bodily frame, and were of a Mongoloid type. I do not wish to enter deeply into several much too radical theories concerning the Sumerians and their racial affinities ; I would merely like to refer to the fact that I have already in my book, Hittite Inscriptions, called attention to the possibility of a connection between the so-called Hittites, non-Aryan proto-Armenians, and Su- merians, and that the ancient population of Elam might easily be included with these. But even in the earliest times Semites appear to the north of the district bordering on the Persian Gulf. As in the his- torical development between 2000 and 600 B. C., two invasions and set- tlements of Semitic nomads can be recorded, in which connection the theory advanced by Winckler concerning the Aramezans and the Chal- deans is especially to be noticed, it is very natural to assume also for these most ancient Semites a nomadic period, which had already ended when history begins to raise the curtain before our searching eyes. The political supremacy of these oldest Semites introduced racial variations. We may look upon the invading Kassites from the Kas- 186 ARCHAOLOGY san mountains as a third element, which also for a time furnished the acknowledged rulers of Babylonia. The second wave of Semitic immi- gration, the Aramaic tribes, had begun in the time of the Kassu rule, and for centuries furnished the nomadic population of the steppes, against whom the population of the cities were engaged in struggle. The advances of the tribes and the retreats of the agricultural population were accompanied by ruins of dikes and canals until a strong hand again forced the nomads back and restored the water courses. These tribes became gradually settled and constituted the fourth racial element, as appears from several historical notices and from Assyrian contracts. Finally, we must notice the pushing forward of the Semitic Kaldi tribes from the south, and the contemporaneous efforts of the Assyrians from the north to obtain the supremacy in Babylonia. But while the preceding four elements composed the basis or foundation out of and upon which ruling classes developed, these two latter parties formed external factors which influenced the social and political life of Babylon. If we also mention as a potent external factor the Elamite mon- archy, which endeavored to play off the Kaldi and the Assyrians against . each other in their struggle for Babylon, we have briefly sketched the picture of the inhabitants, their origin, and those of their neighbors who come into consideration. From these elements and their sediment was formed what we are accustomed to regard as the Babylonian state. We must not imagine an oriental state, however, as being any such firmly welded whole as are our modern European states. Race feeling operated in a manner altogether different from among us. There the whole life of the State was concentrated about great cult centers. Surface configuration, intercourse relations, and the coincident power of single provinces welded a greater political unit about a cult center. Thus was formed a political organization that perhaps soon after was merged into a larger unit, and left nothing but a name behind it in proof of its former exist- ence. Among these political units we know of Sumer and Akkad, that is, the power once connected with Ur, the Kingdom of Babylon; also smaller ones in the north, such as the kingdom of “the four regions” and the Kingdom of Kisshat, of which the cult center is not yet pre- cisely determined, but probably to be sought in northern Mesopo- tamia. Farther away from the proper center lies Elam, which had attained the rank of a State since primeval times. We see Assyria and farther to the north, the proto-Armenian tribes. ARCHZOLOGY > 187 The political history of Babylon, even in the earliest times, presents an alternating picture of centralization and disintegration of the empires embodying the centralization. The question presents itself, what could have been the cause which in so remote a period again and again led to the consolidation of a great district, while as yet, in all neighboring provinces, with few exceptions, only a more or less feeble tribal bond could be formed. The answer may be inferred from the following cir- cumstances : (1) As soon as an individual by reason of the domination of one of the smaller commonwealths had succeeded in restoring the central- ization after a period of its decay, his main efforts were especially directed toward the restoration of the neglected canals. (2) During a decline of the central authority the canals became choked with sand. (3) The Babylonians imagined the period of such political weak- ness to be a time of anger of the gods, who were deserting the country and giving the supremacy over to its enemies. (4) The hydrographic conditions of the country of the two rivers were of such nature as in themselves to call for regulation and utiliza- tion. For, while the bed of the Tigris in its northern portion is lower than the Euphrates, so that the latter seeks an outlet toward the former during inundations, farther on, at the second confluence of the rivers, it is higher. This peculiarity, which apparently contradicts the fact that the Tigris in that part flows much more swiftly than the Euphrates, is explained by the fact that the former flows in a straight course, and thus has a much shorter distance to traverse than the Euphrates, which describes a large loop. And while the swifter course of the Tigris pre- vents it from choking its channel, the Euphrates at once covers its domain, its bed, and channels with its alluvial drift whenever a sys- tematic regulation is not kept in continuous operation. It repeatedly fills its own channel, tears away the banks, and reduces the painfully acquired agricultural land to swamp and waste again. In reply, then, to the inquiry as to the cause of this ever-reappearing centralization, it may be answered that the nomads who first settled in the country of the two rivers were compelled by the hydrographic con- ditions to regulate the river system ; this regulation demanded and devel- oped an administrative center ; these conditions gave as a result the idea that the country belonged to the gods; and this idea had force to bring about a real centralization. Ideas continue in activity thousands of years after the conditions out of which they arose have altered. We must not be surprised, therefore, at finding this idea operative under later conditions; we may even use it as a clue to the complicated life of New Babylon. If, now, we consider the State—I speak, of course, of the individual States in their inward and outward design—we have to regard two 188 ARCH XOLOGY factors: (1) The State centers about one focus of cult. For the Orient this cult center is of the greatest importance, since the development of the State is most closely connected with it. (2) The other point of view is the political-economic. The citizens of each one of these States became landowners soon after they had settled in Mesopotamia. They did not cultivate the land themselves, however, but the work was done by serfs or semi-serfs, obtained by military expeditions and by pur- chase. We have private contracts from which we see how boat expedi- tions were undertaken up the Euphrates against the northern provinces, where the less civilized tribes lived, and in which the contractors, who in this case were merchants and freebooters, undertook to procure slaves. Among the Assyrians, in contrast to Babylonia, the idea of the State was one of somewhat firmer consolidation. This was caused by the situation of Assyria, wedged between Babylonia and northern Meso- potamia, and by the institution of a mercenary army since Tiglath- Pileser I, which was likewise an efficient factor in the formation of a stronger government than in Babylonia. Nevertheless, the political insti- tutions of the two States are somewhat similar. The officials were grouped in three orders—those who were occu- pied with the internal administration ; those who watched over the neigh- boring and tributary States, and the military service that guarded the interests of the State against enemies, and were frequently employed as governors of subjugated States and tribes. The old nobility had, more- ‘over, a direct interest in the State, inasmuch as they pre-eminently shared the offices among themselves. The remaining subjects of the king were partly direct and partly indirect, and the latter certainly, in so far as they were, first of all, sub- ordinate to the hierarchy of a temple. The interest that the individual citizens had in the State lay, apart from the especial interests of the nobles, in the defense against outward attack and in the maintenance of law and justice; and we find, in fact, that the Babylonian State was characterized by a highly developed jurid- ical life. As against the nomadic tribes the domestic militia and the mercenaries had to suffice more or less, while against the neighboring powers the tribes themselves were now and again impressed into service. Of the constitution of the Babylonian State we know very little indeed, and the little we do know is of a negative character, only as the documents give us information of the abrogation of this or that priv- ilege, etc. Besides that, there are preserved to us several charters from Babylonian provinces, which grant certain prerogatives to one family or ARCH AOLOGY 189 another. Thus it was legally established that officials of the State should not enter a free territory of this kind; that its inhabitants should not be arrested by the State police nor be constrained to the performance of a number of various villein services owed to the State. We may probably assume that certain cities obtained charters or franchises, but we have only proofs for the investure of foreigners with civic rights first in the time of the Persians, when very soon resounds the cry “Civis Susanus sum” (I am a citizen of Susa), which is important for our appreciation of Cyrus’s statesmanship. From all accounts we must conclude that the Babylonian kingdom was divided into provinces, which were subdivided into administrative districts, within which lay the free family estates. Everywhere but in the free estates or territories the central authority had the right to com- mand arrests, to construct roads, bridges, etc., and to collect stallions for the breeding studs of the government, or to make arrangements for the maintenance of the studs. The contrast thus made apparent between the rights of the general government and those of the free estates indi- cates a period of transition from the feudal to the centralized system. The former is, of course, the earlier and bears witness to a time when the families were absolutely independent. With the growth of the cen- tral power, however, the importance and influence of the old families diminished, and only now and then occurred a relapse into the feudal system, such as, for instance, we learn from the charters. Such priv- ileged territories were generally held in the possession of the old noble families. These also furnished the State with the entire force of its dignitaries, and the high political offices very often descended from father to son. The citizens were, indeed, as explained above, very different as regards race and legal status, but soon became amalgamated under the influence of the higher civilization. The Babylonians appear to us enterprising and rather vindictive and litigious, as shown by the numerous lawsuits. In their relations with the gods they assumed the position of equals, and yet at the same time displayed the deepest submission. They made offerings to the gods, but also demanded favors in return. If a person had once committed an offense, however, he could not lament sufficiently before the higher powers. The family formed the focus of the whole life of the Babylonians, and presented a united and unbroken front. Thus we often find the interests of the State and those of the family in conflict. The sharp sep- — - ) oF. 190 ARCHAOLOGY aration of the families from one another is easily explained by the for- mer nomadic life of these peoples. Since, moreover, the individuals of a clan were dependent upon one another, the legal conception was gradually developed that the property of an individual belonged not to himself, but to his whole family. We may thus explain the fact that real estate could be sold only on con- dition that the other members of the family gave their assent or signified their willingness by their presence while the bill of sale was being drawn up. A further important factor in the development of the family life is ancestor worship and the conceptions resulting from it, which have had the greatest influence in the religious development of the Semites. The families are, then, as we have seen, the actual units out of which the State is composed. The individual members of the family stand, therefore, in a somewhat freer position as regards the State; they feel that they are first of all members of their own family, from which their connection with the State results secondarily. The relation of the king to the subject was a double one. (1) The king was the highest representative of the family, which implies the conception of the whole State as one family. Under this conception he was the representative of his subjects in their relations with the gods, and had as such a great authority. (2) The king, however, did not belong to the particular families to which the individual subjects belonged. Therefore family interests in this regard often overbalanced the duty owed to the king. The individual families in Babylon were often at enmity with one another, and this antagonism had close relations with external politics. All the powers round about Babylon, as the Elamites, Assyrians, and Kaldi, had their partisans in the city. The partisans, however, belonged respectively to the different families. According as the influence of this or that external power predominated in Babylon, one family was played off against another, and their relative possessions were thus shifted accordingly. The two boundary stones belonging to this period—one dated from Sargon, the other from Merodach-Baladan—are very good illustrations of this condition. The relation of children to their parents was at first a rather patri- archal one, traces of which are found down to the latest times. We have a document from which appears the father’s right of protest on the occasion of his son’s intended marriage. The son might, indeed, marry against his father’s will, but in that case the marriage was not ARCH AOLOGY 191 of full validity. On the other hand, we find phenomena which result from the further development of the family under the influence of pri- vate property rights. Documents dated from about 2300 B. C. refer to adoption to gain laborers. Another kind of adoption was one for the purpose of the fulfillment of obligations imposed by ancestor worship; that is to say, if there were no sons, a slave might be adopted, who should, after the father’s death, bring him the customary offerings. We often see that elderly Babylonians intrusted themselves to a child or adopted slave for care and shelter, and made over their property to the child on condition of being supported by him. This custom is to be regarded already as a result of the evolution from collective to indi- vidual property rights. We do not know much about Babylonian education. We can only draw inferences from what Assurbanipal relates concerning his educa- tion in the bit riduti (nursery). He states that he was trained in feats of bodily dexterity, and in reading and writing as well. We may prob- ably assume that the well-to-do families had their children taught in a writing school (bi¢ dupsaruti). We have fragments of tablets in which mention is made of a writing house, and there are still extant copies of historical and epic works prepared by writing pupils and then presented to a library. Trades were diligently practiced, and children and slaves were bound apprentices to master craftsmen. The period of apprenticeship lasted several months or several years, according to the difficulty of the trade. This may have been the case among business men as well, for we find slaves who carried on business for their masters. If the slave proved to be true and clever, he might even be manumitted, but he still retained a connection with the family. Although then, in this case, the idea of the family did not rest upon blood relationship, it nevertheless appeared strong in all directions. If, now, we compare the inference from the particulars gathered concerning the family with that drawn from the.inscriptions, it is shown that what is apparent from the documents was also legally established. For example, sons-in-law could pass over into the family of the wife and become legally associated to the ancestor worship of this family. As regards the relation of the family to the temple, we must make a distinction between the oldest cults existing within the domains of the individual families and the cults of entire cities. No especial imposts were necessary for the former, since these cults were cared for solely by the members of the respective families. For the latter, on the con- 192 “ARCHAOLOGY trary, special taxes were raised by the king. Occasionally, however, it happened, also, that the king assigned to a temple a whole family, who then had to provide for its maintenance. This probably occurred for the most part after insurrections had been quelled. In the deportations so often practiced by the Assyrians, the question is always of the noble families, who were thereby placed in a trying situation. They might, indeed, carry on their religious observances even at their place of exile, but were yet obliged to feel themselves in banishment, since, according to its idea, ancestor worship was attached to the graves of their forefathers. Upon the latter point we have but little material; nevertheless, this much is evident from it—that it was not necessary that the graves should be separate. We find, on the con- trary, in Babylonia, great sepulchers, whither the dead from whole dis- tricts were brought. These sepulchers were naturally the centers for the surrounding district, and individual families connected themselves, respectively, with such a temple and such a sepulcher. To understand the development of the family upon the religious basis of ancestor wor- ship is extremely important in the historical consideration of the Semitic nations, and without this understanding a number of facts cannot be explained. The attempt has been made to prove the existence of a matriarchate also among the Semites, and it has been thought possible to adduce evi- dence for this view from the oldest inscriptions. This theory depends upon the arrangement of the names of the gods and goddesses and of the ideograms for man and woman. Nevertheless, the fact that in the Sumerian texts the feminine element precedes the masculine is capable of explanation on other grounds. It appears, however, from the Old Babylonian documents that the wife could conclude independent private contracts; and that she had a legal standing in the family circle as well as before a court of law; that is, she was capable of being her own representative in regard to her own affairs. She had her private property and retained the right to dispose of it. Between the thirtieth and the twentieth centuries B. C. marriage had already developed in Babylonia upon the basis of indi- vidual property rights. Of course there existed at the same time remnants of more ancient modes of marriage, especially when the con- tracting parties were not of equal caste. Thus we have in the time of the New Babylonian Kingdom—that is, about the seventh century B. C. —a case where a man married a singer. In the marriage contract the death penalty was laid upon the eventual unfaithfulness of the wife; the ARCH AOLOGY 193 husband, on the other hand, could put his wife away forthwith on the payment to her of a specified sum of money. In ordinary cases the wife obtained her dowry back if she was repudiated. The children remained’ in the husband’s family. There are, however, remnants of a system where, upon a separation, the daughters followed the mother. The material does not suffice to furnish answers to all questions relative to this subject. We find women active in trade, industry, and agriculture, and although here, as elsewhere, men were in preponderance, we see them as priestesses in public worship. In the more ancient time they had not only the religious ceremonials to perform, but authority to manage the property of the deity. Women were also much esteemed as prohpet- esses. , Thus there was in Arbela a temple which harbored a great num- ber of prophetesses who were, for example, much consulted by Asar- haddon. ° After all that I have said about the position of woman there is ne occasion for surprise if we find her in an influential position as queen. An indication of this is the short notice in the synchronistic history that an Assyrian princess ascended the Babylonian throne, and, vice versa, we find in the ninth century the Babylonian princess Samuram- mat upon the Assyrian throne. The latter had an important sovereign position. We find that she exercised influence upon the internal life of the State whose king she had married, and that she doubled Babylonian influence in Assyria. It is very probable that the legend of the Greeks concerning Semiramis can be traced back to the important position of Samurammat, to whose name, however, whole myths of the goddess Istar have been transferred. Reliefs from the time of Assurbanipal show that the position of the queen was an important one in this time, as well, and a similar conclusion concerning the position of the middle-class woman can be drawn from the documents. * * * Among the slaves we must distinguish between (1) those that were in the private possession of an individual; (2) the glebae adscripiz, villeins, who in part had arisen from the condition of slaves, in part had been reduced from the condition of freemen into serfdom; (3) the temple slaves, some of whom were purchased and some presented to the temple by pious citizens or by kings; (4) those belonging to the State, captives of war, of whom the greater part passed into the possession of individuals or of the temple. The first and third classes were employed in industries and about houses, the second in the cultivation of land. We must consider industry in Babylon as highly developed. A SE 1) Ce aa ARCH HOLOGY large number of certificates of delivery have come down to us, from which it appears (1) that private individuals in Babylonia possessed industrial establishments of the nature of factories, and (2) that the temples were great factories. The slaves were let out to work by their masters, and the hire either given to the slave, in case he himself deliv- ered to his master the profit due from him as slave and maintained him- self, or, on the other hand, given to the master if the latter provided for the slave’s maintenance. Finally, the employer might give the slave his maintenance and the surplus earnings of the slave to the master. In this case the slave also received something for his labors. Thus the slave might accumulate a little capital. Besides, slavery was not as harsh in the Orient as in the Occident. The slave might buy his own freedom, and could be adopted and become a member of the family and rise to the highest places. If one compares the employer’s expenses when slaves were hired with the cost of free laborers, the latter are in most cases considerably more expensive. This appears to contradict an economic law that work under like conditions should receive equal compensation. I believe that I am able to solve the riddle in the following manner: If a free man entered into service, he had no claim for compensation if he became sick or disabled by his work. The slave, on the contrary, must be maintained by his master, and there were laws according to which who- ever hired a slave was required to pay an indemnity to his master during the continuance.of any disability incurred by the slave while a servant. Slaves were well protected by these. exceedingly humane laws. Every- one who hired slaves belonging to others took good care not to disable them by overburdening their strength. As a consequence, the wages for a slave were smaller than those of a free man, who was obliged to forego indemnity if he received an injury from his work. As for the glebae adscripti, they correspond to our tenants by villein service; they had to perform a kind of corvée, that is, they were obliged to work for the landowner on certain days. In most cases these slaves belonged to a temple, and on this account the temple had also jurisdic- tion over the slaves belonging to it. Fugitive and refractory slaves were put in chains, but might be released upon the guaranty of a comrade. Documents referring to such cases are extant. Upon military matters in Babylon little has been handed down to us. The foreign rulers of the successive periods had their own national troops, and probably seldom drafted the Babylonians themselves into ARCH AOLOGY 196 military service. These troops gradually became property owners and Babylonians, which explains the clinging to the most ancient custom, namely, that the possession of landed property implied the obligation to furnish soldiers. From the manner of the origin of the central powers, as sketched above, as well as from the idea that the country was subject to the gods, on the one side, and from the repeated political revolutions on the other, it results, as a matter of course, that out of the tribal possession of the land three forms of ownership must have developed: (1) Temple own- ership; (2) State ownership, and (3) only secondarily, private owner- ship. All three forms are met in the New Babylonian documents, naturally with many variations. Temple ownership developed out of the proprietary claim upon the whole territory comprised in the district about the temple. Originally a share of the products was yielded on this account to the deity and, therefore, to his temple. Naturally, in the evolution of things, conflicts of rights must have arisen, and thus, even in the oldest documents as yet in the Sumerian language, we see the kings engaged in regulating the temple revenues. Although gradually a partial conversion of the payments in kind into monetary payments took place, the former remained by far the most prevalent, even in the Babylon of Nebuchad- nezzar and the Persians, as the contract tablets show. Since, especially in years of bad harvests and in times of war, the revenues established by the kings yielded but little, a fixed income was early provided, inasmuch as certain pieces of land were conveyed not merely into the theoretical proprietorship, but into the actual possession of the temple, in order that from them the expenses of the temple and the priests might be met. For the form of State ownership we have only slight indications. If the Assyrian kings restored their possessions to the nobles exiled or imprisoned by the Kaldi, and, vice versa, the Kaldi kings did the same with regard to those exiled by the Assyrians, this restitution might have taken either the form of enfeoffment, of which we have an example in the Merodachbaladan stone of the Berlin Museum, or the form of res- titutio in integrum, while it is yet impossible to determine certainly whether State or private ownership was really the form in question. So, in the case of a number of revenues, the question is still open whether we have before us taxes upon private property or rents on account of original State ownership. On the other hand a considerable number of documents in proof of genuine private ownership are extant. 196 ARCH AOLOGY If we consider the three forms of proprietorship from the point of view of revenues, it appears that the temples played a double role. If they only took a revenue from certain pieces of ground, they were upon the same footing as the State, which received revenues from the feudal estates, but if they held the estates in actual possession they were analo- gous to private individuals, who could manage these properties them- selves or lease them. We thus come to the subject of husbandry, which we may now divide into the two principal classes, management by the owner and farming on lease. I premise that this refers only to the property-holding classes. The agricultural laborers, that is, the real producers, were either slaves or peasants, who in their village community had gradu- ally come to a certain condition of servitude, either to the temple or to the State or to the nobles. We have, then, to distinguish between the property-holding classes and the agricultural laborers. Naturally, a large number of modifications of condition arose which bridged over the transactions. But, in the rough, for the time which extends from the ascendancy of Assyria over Babylon to the downfall of the former power, that is, from goo B. C. to about 600 B. C., one may assume as the greatest difference between the two neighboring States—a differ- ence which was also characteristic of the different relation of power— the existence in Assyria of a free peasant class, in distinction to the existence in Babylonia of an unfree peasant class. That the development of Assyria from a political point of view was much influenced by its social constitution is to be assumed as a matter of course. If, now, we can logically represent this development, we shall be able to judge of the social background, concerning which little documentary evidence remains. The test will be if the little furnished by the inscriptions agrees with the conception previously gained by us. Now, it is quite easy to trace how the Assyrian kings gradually formed for themselves a military force suitable for rapid movements, and how the latter, originally, indeed, consisting of natives, became more and more a mercenary force recruited from the free lances of all Asia Minor. It is, moreover, clear from the history of Assur from the time of Asurnacirpal on, that the internal tranquility was greater or less in proportion to the exhibition of power with regard to outside coun- tries. This is explained by the fact that, so long as the surrounding peoples could be forced to pay tribute, the standing army was main- tained by this tribute, but when from any cause tribute was less freely ARCHAOLOGY 197 given, the public burden fell more and more heavily upon the producing classes. When, under the kings of the eighth century, the north and east became less productive because of the pressing forward of Aryan tribes, circumstances must have come to such a pass that a complete revolution resulted, which brought Tiglath-Pileser III, and after him, Salman- assar IV, to the throne. Since this revolution took place in opposition to the ruling dynasty, and since neither king gave himself any trouble to establish his legitimacy by artificial pedigrees showing relationship to ancient legendary dynasties, it is probably to be assumed that they effected their usurpation in the face of the hitherto ruling classes of the military and priests by the help of a third factor. This, then, will also explain the fact that after the counter revolution of Sargon, he and his successors seized upon the old broken threads and relied chiefly upon the soldiery and priesthood. If, then, we inquire concerning this third fac- tor, the only answer is that it is to be sought in the ranks of the towns- people and peasants. It is thus made possible to see in the revolution of 745 B. C. the victory of a revolt of peasants. And this, again, is only to be imagined on the hypothesis that in Assyria a strong peasant class unspoiled by servitude had survived. Always presupposing that devel- opment had taken place thus, the ascendancy of Assyria over the sur- rounding powers may be accounted for as the result of the liberated strength of the nation; and, moreover, the easy victory of Sargon, who accomplished the restoration with the aid of the priests, may be ex- plained on the assumption that many years of warfare had shattered the social condition of the peasants. There are two factors which make possible a verification of these facts. In the first place, the fact that Sargon, after he had seized the power, regulated property rights in favor of the temples, and, conse- quently, to the prejudice of the townsmen and peasants, who were prob- ably reduced to yet more oppressive dependence. Thence it follows that, before the restoration, temple ownership had been restricted and rela- tions with the temple relaxed, a fact which accordingly supports my representation of the development. And, secondly, the course of Sargon in the foundation of the city Dur-Sharrukin, inasmuch as he boasts that he has accomplished the expropriation of the landowners in a just man- ner, seems to indicate that a free peasant class had survived even after the restoration. Under the descendants of Sargon, the evolution of conditions probably tended more and more toward the extinction of this class, and thus formed the social groundwork which, after the downfall 198 ARCHEOLOGY of the dynasty, allowed Assyria as well as Babylon to become a Median and Persian province. Farming on the owner’s own account, as we know it from the temple records, was practiced in this manner: Peasants brought their products to the temple storehouses and received for these products receipts from officials appointed for this purpose. It was the same in the case of pri- vate owners. It seems, however, as if this kind of management was not very prevalent, or, at any rate, fell into disuse more and more in New Babylon. It was replaced by a system of leasing, which was highly per- fected and formed the transition from domestic to commercial manage- ment. I have already stated that the temples farmed out the collection of their revenues; likewise, as with private owners, they rented great tracts of land to contractors. These contractors made a business of rent- ing, inasmuch as they either had the land cultivated on their own account by free or unfree laborers, or leased single pieces again. This sublease was concluded either after exactly the same form as between the first. renter and the proprietor or else it was a share rent, so that the property did not give a fixed rent, but a proportionate return, which brought a larger or smaller sum according to the result of the harvest. Such farming’ on shares was also practiced where renters took property directly under their own management from proprietors. The picture of the economic relations of Babylon which we can thus sketch by the help of the contracts, resembles throughout that of Italy in recent centuries, whose political development, indeed, presents besides many striking analogies to that of Babylon. Fully to show this in detail, however, would lead me far beyond the limits of my essay. Production was directed primarily toward the gaining of the neces- saries of life. If the accounts of the Greeks had not already taught us this, the indigenous inscriptions would, immediately upon their decipher- ment, have shown that the main stress of social activity in Babylonia was placed upon a quite extraordinarily intensive cultivation of the soil. Innumerable are the receipts for the delivery of grain, of dates, of date litter, date wine, sesame, and garlic, which are found cited here, just as in the accounts of the Egyptian pyramids. And on this subject the accounts of the temples, of which the storehouses appeared to have ruled the market, speak more clearly than anything else. At the same time, the arrangement is especially peculiar, according to which live stock appears not to have been pastured upon the owner’s land nor under the ARCH AOLOGY 199 owner’s direction, but to have been given into the charge of contractors, - who undertook to pasture the herds of various owners, engaged to guard and care for them, and were paid for their services. Here the influx of nomad tribes, with property consisting mainly of herds, and the result- ing forms of collective ownership of large tracts of arable land, appears to have led very early to certain compromises with the perfected private ownership of real estate. The consumption of these products, so far as they were not claimed by the producers themselves, must have taken place in the cities; and since exportation could probably have taken place only on a limited scale—for as far as Arabia the neighboring provinces seem to have pro- duced their own grain—a conclusion as tothe size of these cities is thereby justified. But then it is unavoidable to assume a highly flourish- ing condition of industry in these cities; and, indeed, the textile fabrics of Babylon must have been known and celebrated throughout the whole world of that time. The smith’s and carver’s arts had likewise attained a high degree of perfection. While, however, the materials for these arts—as metals, stone, and ivory—were not produced in the country, but entered it as objects of exchange for the products of Babylon, the material for weaving was in part obtained in the country. There are yet preserved for us many copies of orders by warrant, of which the temple workers received wool from the temple warehouses in order to make cloth of it; and this wool came not only from the possessions of ‘the Babylonians themselves, but doubtless also from the flocks of the nomadic Aramzans, who became, by reason of having a market for their products, ever more firmly attached to the regions of the Euphrates and the Tigris through which they roamed. It is clear how there may and must have arisen through this development conditions which led to antagonism between plain and city, between pasture and agricultural country, and which were then reflected in the political intrigues accord- ing as individual parties represented one or the other interest. And it is clear, further, that with the peculiar growth of temple ownership—as I have developed it above out of the idea of proprietary claim upon the soil—antagonisms must have grown up between the priests or repre- sentatives of the interests of the temples and the kings as representatives of the interests of the State. Only by means of this insight into its material condition does the history of Babylon, at the time of the dynasty of Sargon, for instance, become intelligible. I have already, above, emphasized the fact that the cultivation of 200 ARCHAOLOGY the land must have been a very intensive one. We see this from pic- tures which show how water was raised from canals onto the land by means of hydraulic machines; and we can draw this conclusion from the syllabaries published in the second volume of the London work of inscriptions, which deal with the various phases of agriculture. Finally we gather the same knowledge from the data of the lists which, drawn up by the temple officials, show what amount was to be raised in taxes alone from the several tracts of ground. These tracts themselves were distinguished according to the kind of cultivation ; those where the clods were broken with the hoe were from this called aggullattu—that is, a tool which Tiglath-Pileser I, for example, had used on the construction of roadways in the Armenian highlands. Another kind of tool after which tracts of land were named was the marru, written gish mar— that is, the ideogram for wood, plus the ideogram mar, which is applied to a kind of wagon. Unfortunately the meaning of the word cannot yet be ascertained with precision. While marru, in the architectural inscrip- tion, is taken by some to mean scoop or bucket, others find in it the meaning wagon tongue. In some of the contracts marru certainly means a kind of vessel. It might not be impossible that there were two meanings in the word: (1) that of the vessel, which would then be referred to in the contracts, as well as in the architectural inscriptions; (2) also that of an implement which might perhaps find employment in transportation as well as in agriculture. I imagine it as a primitive kind of cart or dray, and consider it not impossible that by putting in a plowshare a plow might also have been made from it. Further, lands were designated as zagpu to be derived from zagqaf, if they were planted with date palms, as pi shulpi, if bordering on water and swampy, as ipinnu, if watered with the water wheel, and as taptu, of which the exact signification as yet eludes definition. Especially in Babylonia the idea of fallow land appears to be lacking, which occurs quite frequently in the Assyrian contracts. Whether here the land actually was or could have been continuously cultivated, without fixed rotation and without pause, I leave undecided. The individual tracts of land were not computed according to meas- urements of pure plane geometry, like building plots, but according to measures that had been evolved similar to the German joch, morgen, etc.—that is, according to the gur, or the real unit of capacity, which about corresponds to the German wispel (24 Berlin bushels). Accord- ing to this, a piece of land was designated by the amount which could ARCHASOLOGY 201 be sowed upon it. Naturally, the ancient method must have been per- fected under advanced conditions into a fixed measure of extent; it appears that generally a subdivision of the gur—namely, one-tenth of a ga (that is, one eighteen-hundredth of the gur), with the ideographic denotation sha. hi. a, of which I do not know the pronunciation—was fixed as a certain extent of land, which then passed as a unit of measure. It is not yet possible to say anything quite definite as to the size of this unit of measure; Oppert’s calculation rests upon false premises. The celebrated assyriologist begins with the unit of linear measure, the ell, and is naturally compelled to construct besides the usual ell a much © longer one for land measurement. I believe that I am able to come nearer the truth by a conjecture. If the ground area of a house is measured, it is done by the construction from the linear measure gi==gqanu, (reed, 1. e., rod)==7 u (u—=ammatu=an ell) of a unit of sur- face measure, namely, gi. u, that is, a surface of which one side was 7 ells, the other, 1 ell long. This construction was carried to such an extent that, if there were subdivisions, these were computed according to the surface unit gt. shu. si, ganu, uban (bohen) (mehri haben)=inch; the unit of measure was accordingly divided into parts, of which one side, equal to 7 ells, remained invariable, while the other side was one or more inches in length. It seems to me now, that the procedure was of like nature in the construction of the surface unit for agricultural land. Since u (—ammatu) is to be taken as a fundamental unit, accord- ing to the accounts of several documents, this ell of land will denote a piece of land, of which the short side was equal to 1 ell, while the long side, however, extended as far as was necessary in order that one sha. /11. a might be sowed upon it. We do not learn very much about the real activity of the peasants. The ground was broken, watered after the sowing, guarded against injury from birds or herds, and the fences around the tracts kept in order. The duty of watching and putting the ditches in order is many times emphasized in the documents of lease. About the harvests and the manner of gathering them there is almost nothing to be gained from the inscriptions. In the Babylon of Nebuchadnezzar II, the main harvest of grain was in Airu (the Hebrew Iyyar) ; for dates, in Arah-samma (the He- brew Marheshwan). It is many times stipulated in the contracts that the grain or the dates to be delivered should be brought to the city by boat, and then delivered either into storehouses or granaries on the quay, 202 ARCHAOLOGY or in the house of the purchaser or of the lessor, respectively. That the waterways, which received careful attention, were used for this trans- portation, need not excite surprise. Since ship asses are many times mentioned, it might seem as though the boats had been drawn from the bank by asses, but that is probably not correct. According to the repre- sentations, rafts of the Assyrians were made of wooden frames, under which were fastened skins of rams, closed and water-tight, and filled with air. Navigation is practiced in similar manner down the river even to-day on the Tigris. At the place of destination the wood is sold along with the cargo, and the skins are piled up and transported back upon asses. Such asses might well be meant in the passages mentioned ; nothing, however, is learned from this as to the manner of navigation on the canals. | The laborers had, as a remnant of the ancient domestic manage- ment, their full maintenance upon the land, and wages beside. If they were free peasants, these wages came from a share in the produce of the harvest. Slaves received their food and clothing from their masters, and if they were hired, the employers might give them wages as he did to free laborers; from this they paid to their owner the profit due him from a slave, but might, however, claim clothing from him. Therefore, there are also contracts of hire in which the employer pledged himself to furnish the clothing. It happened, besides, that the employer paid the slave’s dues to the master, and guaranteed food and clothing, originally without paying the slave himself anything at all. This would seem to have been the earlier, the other the later form; yet nothing conclusive can as yet be established concerning these important questions. From the part of the crop which now remained over, therefore, as follows from the conditions detailed above, the contractor’s rent was to be paid, the owner’s income, and the incumbent taxes and imposts. The rent was either a fixed rent or a share rent. In the first case there was fixed the amount of produce or money to be delivered to the owner. We have several such records, but unfortunately the particulars as to the amount of the rent permit of no inference as to its relation to the returns from the harvests. It was otherwise in the case of the share rents. There it was provided that, after deduction of costs, the proceeds were to be divided equally between tenant and owner. There are several statements in which, moreover, it was agreed who should pay the taxes. The income of the owners of landed property, among whom the temples also are, of course, to be reckoned, came to them, according to ARCH AOLOGY 203 what was said above, in the shape of money or in that of produce. If the latter case prevailed, and this was the rule, there was, naturally, often a hardship for the owner in being compelled to meet his monetary obligations during a period of low prices for grain. On this account, we find an exceedingly large number of texts in which proprietors were forced to mortgage their lands in order to procure money. Nay, more, there even exists a document by which a Babylonian in straits mort- gaged his harvest on the stalk. The necessity of obtaining ready money arose not, perhaps, from private needs alone. The public institutions must many times have . co-operated in this respect, as in Rome at the time of the Republic. For, although as already recounted at the outset, the temple imposts and even the direct State taxes were still usually delivered in the form of produce, and accordingly little was at first converted into fixed sums of money, there was another consideration which compelled the use of money. And this was the obligation which rested upon the individual estates to furnish soldiers and their equipment, and likewise to provide for their maintenance. This obligation was probably derived from con- ditions in which the landowner, as yet a peasant himself, held himself in readiness for service in arms in defense of the country. But, indeed, a mercenary soldiery must have developed in Babylon very early, especi- ally because of the changing foreign rule. Thus we find documents in which money is appropriated directly to serve for the equipment or maintenance of soldiers. Moreover, this explains the occurrence of the designation of gashtu for certain pieces of property ; these were just such as had to furnish archers. Other exactions, to mention these also which, indeed, did not demand a direct expenditure of money, resulted from the public works. For this the organs of administration could constrain the laborers of the temple estates as well as those of private ownership to a kind of corvée, in which their maintenance was furnished by the possessors of the estate. In Babylon a very important industrial life had developed very early. Of raw products for this, the country had only clay, asphalt and reed in the best quality. All else, for instance, skins of animals, wool, so far as this was not furnished by the tribes which roamed through the country, had to be imported. On this account the kings were very often led to undertake military expeditions toward the Amanus, both in order to keep the way open for traffic and to obtain as tribute what they could 204 ARCHAOLOGY not buy. Babylon must, indeed, have been a gigantic thoroughfare for the trade between the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean. About this we can learn nothing directly from the cuneiform inscriptions, though we can learn it indirectly, by inferences, and, moreover, from the Greek authors. One thing is nevertheless clear, that great amounts of raw products lay in the storehouses of Babylon. Production was divided into the work of trades and that of fac- tories. I call trades the activity of free or unfree laborers, because they were entitled to take apprentices and teach them their trade, an institu- tion which fully corresponds to that of our modern trades. We have to look upon the temple and the industrial establishments of the rich citi- zens as factories. We have a number of certificates of delivery which show how the raw materials were delivered into the industrial establish- ments and how the finished products were delivered from them. These indicate how long the laborers worked and what amount of wages they received. As soon as the products of the trades came into demand as objects of luxury, craftsmanship touched the boundaries of art. The conditions in question are similar to those which existed in ancient Egypt. Artisanship is a refinement of what is commonly called trade work, which yet cannot attain individuality. The fine arts were mainly employed upon the royal edifices. Almost every kind of technique was practiced there—metal work (especially embossed work), metal casting, ivory and wood carving, and stone and tile mosaic. The technical perfection of the last was especially remark- able. One is with reason astonished at the blues, partly metallic colors, partly lapis laguli, which were burnt in upon the tiles for mosaics. The bronze doors of Balawat are a splendid relic of the artistic skill of for- mer times. In considering the stone carving it is striking in how mas- terly a way the hardest stones were subdued in the most remote times, and that, too, with tools with which modern artists cannot work at all. At that time there was as yet no steel. Even the hard basalt was worked with chisels of tempered bronze. Among the minor arts, that of the lapidary is especially to be noticed. We find quite delightful engravings upon the hardest gems. Here, again, is such a technical perfection as could be developed only by the practice of centuries, and which later became lost, so that similar noticeable works could first be produced again only in Italian workshops. Wood carving was employed in the construction of thrones and of little Venus figures in wood. A similar highly developed art appears also in ivory work. Ivory was a much ARCH AOLOGY 205 prized article, for the sake of which the kings often undertook military expeditions, since the elephants were already exterminated on the Euphrates and the Tigris toward the beginning of the tenth century B. C. The ceramics, for which the most excellent raw material was present in all Babylonia, were also remarkable. The clay, which was already washed smooth by the rivers, was ground up so fine that clay writing tablets, for instance, were made of such superlative quality that they could be covered with writing so small as hardly to be read without a microscope. The Babylonians are our predecessors in the art of printing. We have matrices in clay and in wood. The writing to be multiplied was first carved in wood, then cast in clay, and could then be imprinted upon any number of clay tablets. A highly developed branch of industry was the art of weaving and embroidery, although we have no specimen of the material. We can form an idea of this art from the representations of the Egyptians and the Babylonians. The Babylonians understood how to weave very thin fabrics as well as the thickest. I myself have seen a clay tablet in Lon- don which had been laid upon a piece of linen, so that even now the position of the threads and the excellence of the fabric to which they belonged can be estimated. The tanner’s trade, moreover, was highly developed. This, too, can be judged of only through pictorial representations. According to these, shoes and the harness and saddles of horses were elaborately worked. ; Those who carried on industry were partly free, partly slaves; the former received wages, the latter were hired or rented. The owners of the slaves received from the latter, if they were skilled laborers, a fixed income. This must be clearly recognized in the picture of the social relations in Babylon. It is a matter of course, that here the interests of the owners and those of the laborers must have been diverse, and that, in spite of the immense population of Babylon, its political conditions must have been very unstable, because only the rich—that is, the dwind- ling minority—had an interest in the maintenance of order. Babylon had never been able to attain the position of Rome, where the Plebs constantly obtained more rights. As for the instruments of labor in Old Babylon, they were not highly developed. On the other hand, a high degree of technical perfec- tion was wrought out with these poor instruments. Among us the 206 ARCHAOLOGY reverse is the case. The tools are very good, but the skill of the human hand has greatly diminished. Whether a division of labor in the modern sense existed in Babylon cannot be yet made clear. There are, never- theless, a number of facts which would point to it. According to the representations in the reliefs, the citizens attended public gatherings on state occasions and temple ceremonies, richly adorned and with the insignia which distinguished them as citizens; that is, in flowing garments, with large and artistically made head-dresses, with a seal ring upon the finger, with staff in hand, with girdle and beautifully embroidered leather shoes. In everyday work, on the con- trary, we see the same citizens carrying on their business in shirt and apron. Unfortunately, the remains which are at hand come mostly from temples and palaces, and therefore we can form a clear picture only of great state functions. Several scholars maintain that in Babylon only the temples and palaces are to be considered as great buildings, while the inhabitants lived in primitive huts. This is an untenable view. Portions of founda- tion walls which belonged to private houses have been discovered, and we are justified in the assumption that Babylon, so long as it existed, made, with its houses, the impression of a great city. One must not forget, withal, that it was an oriental city which required another kind of architecture than that of our great cities. Upon the main streets, which were paved with stone, little outbuildings, such as we still see in oriental cities, which must have served as booths or bazaars, were erected before the houses. There, as in the gates of the temples and palaces, handiwork and traffic were briskly carried on. Money, the medium of exchange, received its first and best im- provement there. It had passed from the conception of barter to the refined conception of value. In even earlier times gold and silver money, and also as subsidiary coinage, copper, bronze, and iron were used. The further the development went the more need there must have been of having the metals in a fixed form and in certain proportions of weight in order that there might be no necessity for weighing the metals each time. It was therefore molded into bars and rings. Unfortunately, no such coins have been preserved, but we have written references to them. The unit of value was the mine. This contained 60 shegels, and the latter had again subdivisions, but these varied. From the two first developments of money arises the third; the use of money as capital; that is, interest-bearing capital. We have, in about 2300 B. C., the ARCH AZOLOGY 207 transition, as people pledged themselves to work a certain length of time for a sum of money which they must return later. Exchange was known in Babylon, and there are statements of the changes in value of money. Moreover, the ratio of value between gold and silver was fixed. This fine development of the relations of value was accompanied by another—the relation of the purchasing power of money to livelihood. A number of documents exist which show that the living expenses of the laborers cannot have been very high, and this agrees with what we know of the Orient from other sources. The soil furnishes the neces-: saries of life without man’s having to take much trouble. Consequently, idleness and beggary are nowhere more widespread than in the Orient. Nowhere is industry urged forward in a more brutal way. There are many reliefs from Babylon and Egypt which show laborers constantly driven by blows from a stick; during the transportation of colossal _ weights an overseer with a club stands behind every three or four laborers. CONCLUSION During the correction of the preceding sketch, which the editor of the Mittheilungen has sent to the press half against my will, but which I will not now withdraw, since otherwise I should be obliged to let it lie for many years to come without finding the time to work it over thor- oughly, two gaps came to my special notice, the filling up of which, however, is subsequently to take place elsewhere. The professional _ position of the priests will probably be described by Zimmern in his contributions to the knowledge of the Babylonian religion; that of the judges will be treated by Kohler in the fourth part of the work pub- lished by Kohler and myself upon Babylonian juridical life. Translated from Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft, Berlin, 1896. 208 PHYSICS THE MOST IMPORTANT ADVANCES in theoretical Physics during the last thirty years have been connected with the consideration of waves in the ether. In 1873 and even before, J. Clerk Maxwell developed his theory that electricity like light is a wave in the ether. The main proof of this theory rested upon the fact that it could be made to account for electrical phenomena and that the speed of light and elec- tricity seemed to be approximately the same. In 1888 Hertz of Germany succeeded in actually detecting waves in electricity by the method de- scribed below. The gradually acquired knowledge of their production and control have resulted in the wireless telegraph, the details of which are given under this head. The discovery of Crookes’ rays and of the X-rays by Réntgen points the way to a knowledge of new forms of radiation. JAMES CLERK MAXWELL James CLERK MAXWELL was born in 1831.. He attended Edin- burgh from 1847 to 1850, then entered Cambridge and was graduated in 1854, taking the honor of second wrangler. From 1856 to 1860 he taught in Marichal College, Aberdeen, and from 1860 to 1868 in King’s College, London. PHYSICS 209 He was a mathematician at fifteen, and several of his papers were tread before the Royal Society of Edinburgh before he was nineteen. In 1867 he took up the question of electricity and strove to find a theory of it which would not include such a conception as action from a dis- tance. This developed into the theory that electricity is a condition of stress or strain in the ether, in other words, that it is a wave in the same medium as light and travels at the same rate of speed. Hertz’s experiments in 1888 have done much to confirm this theory, and such inventions as wireless telegraphy are a direct result. Maxwell died in 1879. ELECTRICITY A WAVE IN THE ETHER In several parts of this treatise an attempt has been made to explain electromagnetic phenomena by means of mechanical action transmitted from one body to another by means of a medium occupying the space between them. The undulatory theory of light also assumes the exist- ence of a medium. We have now to show that the properties of the electromagnetic medium are identical with those of the luminiferous medium. To fill all space with a new medium whenever any new phenomenon is to be explained is by no means philosophical, but if the study of two different branches of science has independently suggested the idea of a medium, and if the properties which must be attributed to the medium in order to account for electromagnetic phenomena are of the same kind _as those which we attribute to the luminiferous medium in order to account for the phenomena of light, the evidence for the physical exist- ence of the medium will be considerably strengthened. But the properties of bodies are capable of quantitative measure- ment. We therefore obtain the numerical value of some property of the medium, such as the velocity with which a disturbance is propagated through it, which can be calculated from electromagnetic experiments, and also observed directly in the case of light. If it should be found that the velocity of propagation of electromagnetic disturbances is the same as the velocity of light, and this not only in air, but in other trans- parent media, we shall have strong reasons for believing that light is an electromagnetic phenomenon, and the combination of the optical with the electrical evidence will produce a conviction of the reality of the X. 14. ! 210 PHYSICS medium similar to that which we obtain, in the case of other kinds of matter, from the combined evidence of the senses. When light is emitted, a certain amount of energy is expended by the luminous body, and if the light is absorbed by another body, this body becomes heated, showing that it has received energy from without. During the interval of time after the light left the first body and before it reached the second, it must have existed as energy in the intervening space. According to the theory of emission, the transmission of energy is effected by the actual transference of light-corpuscules from the lumin- ous to the illuminated body, carrying with them their kinetic energy, together with any other kind of energy of which they may be the recep- tacles. According to the theory of undulation, there is a material medium which fills the space between the two bodies, and it is by the action of contiguous parts of this medium that the energy is passed on, from one portion to the next, until it reaches the illuminated body. The luminiferous medium is therefore, during the passage of light through it, a receptacle of energy. In the undulatory theory, as devel- oped by Huygens, Fresnel, Young, Green, etc., this energy is supposed to be partly potential and partly kinetic. The potential energy is sup- posed to be due to the distortion of the elementary portions of the medium. We must therefore regard the medium as elastic. The kinetic energy is supposed to be due to the vibratory motion of the medium. We must therefore regard the medium as having a finite density. In the theory of electricity and magnetism adopted in this treatise, two forms of energy are recognised, the electrostatic and the electro- kinetic, and these are supposed to have their seat, not merely in the electrified or magnetized bodies, but in every part of the surrounding space, where electric or magnetic force is observed to act. Hence our theory agrees with the undulatory theory in assuming the existence of a medium which is capable of becoming a receptacle of two forms of energy. Let us next determine the conditions of the propagation of an . electromagnetic disturbance through a uniform medium, which we shall suppose to be at rest, that is, to have no motion except that which may be involved in electromagnetic disturbances. Let C be the specific conductivity of the medium, K its specific capacity for electrostatic induction, and u its magnetic “permeability.” PHYSICS 211 The quantity V, in Art. 784, which expresses the velocity of propagation of electromagnetic disturbances in a non-conducting me- dium is, by equation (10), equal to wlio V Ku. If the medium is air, and if we adopt the electrostatic system of J es measurement, K==1I and u==—, so that =v, or the velocity of propa- v gation is numerically equal to the number of electrostatic units of elec- tricity in one electromagnetic unit. If we adopt the electromagnetic I j ATAOL system, K=3 and u=1, so that the equation V=v is still true. On the theory that light is an electromagnetic disturbance, propa- gated in the same medium through which other electromagnetic actions are transmitted, V must be the velocity of light, a quantity the value of which has been estimated by several methods. On the other hand, w is the number of electrostatic units of electricity in one electromagnetic unit, and the methods of determining this quantity have been described in the last chapter. [Here inserted.] Comparison of Units of Electricity [Since the ratio of the electromagnetic to the electrostatic unit of electricity is represented by a velocity, we shall in future denote it by the symbol v. The first numerical determination of this velocity was made by Weber and Kohlrausch. Their method was founded on the measurement of the same quan- tity of electricity, first in electrostatic and then in electromagnetic measure. The quantity of electricity measured was the charge of a Leyden jar. It was measured in electrostatic measure as the product of the capacity of the jar into the difference of potential of its coatings. The capacity of the jar was determined by comparison with that of a sphere suspended in an open space at a distance from other bodies. The capac- ity of such a sphere is expressed in electrostatic measure by its radius. Thus the capacity of the jar may be found and expressed as a certain length. See Art. 227. The difference of the potentials of the coatings of the jar was meas- ured by connecting the coatings with the electrodes of an electrometer, . 212 PHYSICS the constants of which were carefully determined, so that the difference of the potentials, E, became known in electrostatic measure. By multiplying this by c, the capacity of the jar, the charge of the jar was expressed in electrostatic measure. To determine the value of the charge in electromagnetic measure, the jar was discharged through the coil of a galvanometer. The effect of the transient current on the magnet of the galvanometer communi- cated to the magnet a certain angular velocity. The magnet then swung round to a certain deviation, at which its velocity was entirely destroyed by the opposing action of the earth’s magnetism. By observing the extreme deviation of the magnet the quantity of electricity in the discharge may be determined in electromagnetic meas- ure, as in Art. 748, by the formula la hig O= Gz 2 sin $0, where Q is the quantity of electricity in electromagnetic measure. We have therefore to determine the following quantities: H, the intensity of the horizontal component of terrestrial mag- netism ; see Art. 456. G, the principal constant of the galvanometer; see Art. 700. T, the time of a single vibration of the magnet; and O, the deviation due to the transient current. The value of wv obtained by MM. Weber and Kohlrausch was U===310740000 metres per second. The property of solid dielectrics, to which the name of Electric Absorption has been given, renders it difficult to estimate correctly the capacity of a Leyden jar. The apparent capacity varies according to the time which elapses between the charging or discharging of the jar and the measurement of the potential, and the longer the time the greater is the value obtained for the capacity of the jar. Hence, since the time occupied in obtaining a reading of the electro- meter is large in comparison with the time during which the discharge through the galvanometer takes place, it is probable that the estimate of the discharge in electrostatic measure is too high, and the value of v, derived from it, is probably also too high. ] They are quite independent of the methods of finding the velocity of light. Hence the agreement or disagreement of the values of V and of uv furnishes a test of the electromagnetic theory of light. PHYSICS 213 In the following table, the principal results of direct observation of the velocity of light, either through the air or through the planetary spaces, are compared with the principal results of the comparison of the electric units :— Velocity of Light (metres per second), Ratio of Electric Units (metres per second), UL Zoe) IE BO aad a 314000000 | Weber ..... aN Aa . » «310740000 Aberration, etc, and Sun’s Parallax .....308000000 MOUCAMIty ite nen 208260000") p Uhomisomy. ate y. 3.2), 282000000 It is manifest that the velocity of light and the ratio of the units are quantities of the same order of magnitude. Neither of them can be said Maxwell ............-288000000 to be determined as yet with such a degree of accuracy as to enable us to assert that the one is greater or less than the other. It is to be hoped that, by further experiment, the relation between the magnitudes of the two quantities may be more accurately determined. In the meantime our theory, which asserts that these two quantities are equal, and assigns a physical reason for this equality, is certainly not contradicted by the comparisons of these results such as they are. In the following table, taken from a paper by E. B, Rosa, Phil. Mag. 28, p. 315, 1889, the determinations of ‘v’ corrected for the error in the B, A, unit are given :— 1856 Weber and Kohlrausch e .» 3.107X1019 (cm, per second) 1868 Maxwell 2.842 1010 1869 W. Thomson and King 2.808 X 1010 1872 McKichan ‘ 2.896 X 1010 1879 Ayrton and ate 2 960X 1010 1880 Shida : 2.955 X1010 1883 J. J. Thomson — , es ». 2.963X1010 1884 Klemencic Al as ve »» 3,019X1010 1888 Himstedt we au ee «« 3,009X1010 1889 W. Thomson .. Ne oe .s 3.004X 1010 1889 HE. B. Rosa és .. 2.9993 X 101° 1890 J. J. Thomson and Searle .. .» 2.9955X 1019 VELOCITY OF LIGHT IN AIR, Cornu (1878) Mi, “ .. 3.003X 1010 Michelson (1879) .. a ». 2.9982 X 1010 Michelson (1882) .. a .. 2.9976X 1010 2.99615 Newcomb (1885) 2.99682 X 1010 2.99766 In other media than air, the velocity V is inversely proportional to the square root of the product of the dielectric and the magnetic induc- tive capacities. According to the undulatory theory, the velocity of light in different media is inversely proportional to their indices of refraction. There are no transparent media for which the magnetic capacity differs from that of air more than by a very small fraction. Hence the principal part of the difference between these media must depend on 214 PHYSICS their dielectric capacity. According to our theory, therefore, the dielec- tric capacity of a transparent medium should be equal to the square of its index of refraction. But the value of the index of refraction is different for light of different kinds, being greater for light of more rapid vibrations. We must therefore select the index of refraction which corresponds'to waves of the longest periods, because these are the only waves whose motion can be compared with the slow processes by which we determine the capacity of the dielectric. The only dielectric of which the capacity has been hitherto deter- mined with sufficient accuracy is paraffin, for which in the solid form MM. Gibson and Barclay found. I tO. Dr. Gladstone has found the following values of the index of re- fraction of melted paraffin, sp. g. 0.779, for the lines A, D and H:— Temperature A D ye 6 54°C 1.4306 1.4357 1.4499 57°C 1.4204 1.4343 1.4493 from which I find that the index of refraction for waves of infinite length would be about 1.422. The square root of K is 1.405. The difference between these numbers is greater than can be accounted for by errors of observation, and shows that our theories of the struc- ture of bodies must be much improved before we can deduce their optical from their electrical properties. At the same time, I think that the agreement of the numbers is such that if no greater discrepancy were found between the numbers derived from the optical and the elec- trical properties of a considerable number of substances, we should be warranted in concluding that the square root of K, though it may not be the complete expression for the index of refraction, is at least the most important term in it. 215 M. HENRI POINCARE THE MAXWELL AND HERTZ THEORY OF ELECTRICITY AND LIGHT It was at the moment when the experiments of Fresnel were forc- ing the scientific world to admit that light consists of the vibrations of a highly attentuated fluid filling interplanetary spaces that the researches of Ampére were making known the laws of the mutual action of cur- rents and were so enunciating the fundamental principles of electro- dynamics, It needed but one step to the supposition that that same fluid, the ether, which is the medium of luminous phenomena, is at the same time the vehicle of electrical action. In imagination Ampére made this stride; but the illustrious physicist could not foresee that the seducing hypothesis with which he was toying, a mere dream for him, was ere long to take a precise form and become one of the vital concerns of exact science. A dream it remained for many years, till one day, after electrical measurements had become extremely exact, some physicist, turning _ over the numerical data, much as a resting pedestrian might idly turn over a stone, brought to light an odd coincidence. It was that the factor of transformation between the system of electro-statical units and the system of electro-dynamical units was equal to the velocity of light. Soon the observations directed to this strange coincidence became so exact that no sane head could longer hold it a mere coinci- dence. No longer could it be doubted that some occult affinity existed between optical and electrical phenomena. Perhaps, however, we might be wondering to this day what this affinity could be were it not for the genius of Clerk Maxwell. Displacement Currents The reader is aware that solid bodies are divided into two classes, conductors through which electricity can move in the form of a galvanic current, and nonconductors, or dielectrics. The electricians of former 216 PHYSICS days regarded dielectrics as quite inert, having no part to play but that of obstinately refusing passage to electricity. Had that been so, any one nonconductor might be replaced by any other without making any difference in the phenomena; but Faraday found that that was not the case. Two condensers of the same form and dimensions put into con- nection with the same source of electricity do not take the same charge, though the thickness of the isolating plate be the same, unless the mat- ter of that plate be chemically the same. Now Clerk Maxwell had too deeply studied the researches of Faraday not to comprehend the import- ance of dielectrics and the imperative obligation to recognize their active part. Besides, if light is but an electric phenomenon, when it traverses a thickness of glass electrical events must take place in that glass. And what can be the nature of those events Maxwell boldly answers, they are, and must be, currents. All the experience of his day seemed to contradict this. Never had currents been observed except in conductors. How was Maxwell to reconcile his audacious hypothesis with a fact so well established as that? Why is it that under certain circumstances those supposed cur- rents produce manifest effects, while under ordinary conditions they can not be observed at all. The answer was that dielectrics resist the passage of electricity not so much more than conductors do, but in a different manner. Maxwell’s idea will best be understood by a comparison. If we bend a spring, we meet a resistance which increases the more the spring is bended. So, if we can only dispose of a finite force, a moment will come when the motion will cease, equilibrium being reached. Finally, when the force ceases the spring will in flying back restore the whole of the energy which has been expended in bending it. Suppose, on the other hand, that we wish to displace a body plunged into water. Here again a resistance will be experienced, but it will not go on increasing in proportion as the body advances, supposing it to be maintained at a constant velocity. So long as the motive force acts, equilibrium will never, then, be attained ; nor when the force is removed will the body in the least tend to return, nor can any portion of the energy expended be restored. It will, in fact, have been converted into heat by the viscosity of the water. The contrast is plain; and we ought to distinguish elastic resistance from viscous resistance. Using these terms, we may express Maxwell’s PHYSICS 217 idea by saying that dielectrics offer an elastic resistance, conductors a viscous resistance, to the movements of electricity. Hence, there are two kinds of currents; currents of displacement which traverse dielectrics and ordinary currents of conduction which circulate in conductors. Currents of the first kind, having to overcome an elastic resistance which continually increases, naturally can last but a very short time, since a state of equilibrium will quickly be reached. Currents of conduction, on the other hand, having only a viscous resistance to overcome, must continue so long as there is any electro- motive force. Let us return to the simile used by M. Cornu in his notice in the Annuaire du Bureau des Longitudes for 1893. Suppose we have in a reservoir water under pressure. Lead a tube plumb downward into the reservoir. The water will rise in the tube, but the rise will stop when hydrostatic equilibrium is attained—that is, when the downward pres- sure of the water in the tube above the point of application of the first pressure on the reservoir, and due to the weight of the water, balances that first pressure. If the pipe is large, there will be no friction or loss of head, and the water so raised can be used to do work. That repre- sents a current of displacement. If, on the other hand, the water flows out of the reservoir by a hori- zontal pipe, the motion will go on till the reservoir is emptied; but if the tube is small and long there will be a great loss of energy and con- siderable production of heat by friction. That represents a current of | conduction. Though it would be vain, not to say idle, to attempt to represent all details, it may be said that everything happens just as if the currents of displacement were acting to bend a multitude of little springs. When the currents cease, electrostatic equilibrium is established, and the springs are bent the more, the more intense is the electric field. The accumulated work of the springs—that is, the electrostatic energy—can be entirely restored as soon as they can unbend, and so it is that we obtain mechanical work when we leave the conductors to obey the elec- trostatic attractions. Those attractions must be due to the pressure exercised on the conductors by the bent springs. Finally, to pursue the image to the death, the disruptive discharge may be compared to the breaking of the springs when they are bent too much. On the other hand, the energy employed to produce conduction cur- rents is lost, being wholly converted into heat, like that spent in over- 218 PHYSICS coming the viscosity of fluids. Hence it is that the conducting wires become heated. From Maxwell’s point of view it seems that all currents are in closed circuits. The older electricians did not so opine. They regarded the current circulating in a wire joining the two poles of a pile as closed; but if in place of directly uniting the two poles we place them in com- munication with the two armatures of a condenser, the momentary cur- rent which lasts while the condenser is getting charged was not considered as a current round a closed circuit. It went, they thought, from one armature through the wire, the battery, the other wire, to the other armature, and there it stopped. Maxwell, on the contrary, sup- posed that in the form of a current of displacement it passes through the nonconducting plate of the condenser, and that precisely what brings it to cessation is the opposite electromotive force set up by the displace- ment of electricity in this dielectric. Currents become sensible in three ways—by their heating effects, by their actions on other currents and on magnets, and by the induced currents to which they give rise. We have seen why currents of con- duction develop heat and why currents of displacement do not. But Maxwell’s hypothetical currents ought at any rate to produce electro- magnetic and inductive effects. Why do these effects not appear? The answer is, that it is because a current of displacement can not last long enough. That is to say, they can not last long in one direction. Conse- quently in a dielectric no current can long exist without alternation. But the effects ought to and will become observable if the current is continually reversed at sufficiently short intervals. The Nature of Light Such, according to Maxwell, is the origin of light. A luminiferous wave is a series of alternating currents produced in dielectrics, in air, or even in the interplanetary void, and reversed in direction a million of million of times per second. The enormous induction due to these frequent alternations sets up other currents in the neighboring parts of the dielectric, and so the waves are propagated. Calculation shows that the velocity of propagation would be equal to the ratio of the units, which we know is the velocity of light. Those alternative currents are a sort of electrical oscillation. Are they longitudinal, like those of sound, or are they transversal, like those of Fresnel’s ether? In the case of sound the air undergoes alternative condensations and rarefactions. The ether of Fresnel, on the other \ PHYSICS Hag 219 hand, behaves as if it were composed of incompressible layers capable only of slipping over one another. Were these currents in open paths, the electricity carried from one end to the other would become accu- mulated at one extremity. It would thus be condensed and rarefied like air, and its vibrations would be longitudinal. But Maxwell only admits currents in closed circuits ; accumulation is impossible, and elec- tricity behaves like the incompressible ether of Fresnel, with its trans- versal vibrations. : Experimental Verification We thus obtain all the results of the theory of waves. Yet this was not enough to decide the physicists to adopt the ideas of Maxwell. It was a seductive hypothesis ; but physicists consider hypotheses which lead to no distinct observational consequences as beyond the borders of their province. That province, so defined, no experimental confirmation of Maxwell’s theory invaded for twenty-five years. What was wanted was some issue between the two theories not too delicate for our coarse methods of observation to decide. There was but one line of research along which any experimentum crucis was to be met with. The old electro-dynamics makes electro-magnetic induction take place instantaneously; but according to Maxwell’s doctrine it propa- gates itself with the velocity of light. The point was then to measure, or at least to make certain, a velocity of propagation of inductive effects. This is what the illustri- ous German physicist Hertz has done by the method of interferences. The method is well known in its application to optical ‘phenom- ena. Two luminous rays from one identical center interfere when they reach the same point after pursuing paths of different lengths. If the difference is one, two, or any whole number of wave lengths, the two lights re-enforce one another so that if their intensities are equal, that of their combination is four times as great. But if the difference is an odd number of half wave lengths, the two lights extinguish one another. Luminiferous waves are not peculiar in showing this phenome- non; it belongs to every periodic change which is propagated with definite velocity. Sound interferes just as light does, and so must electro-dynamic induction if it is strictly periodic and has a definite velocity of propagation. But if the propagation is instantaneous there can be no interference, since in that case there is no finite wave length. 220 PHYSICS The phenomenon, however, could not be observed were the wave length greater than the distance within which induction is sensible. It is therefore requisite to make the period of alternation as short as possible. Electrical Exciters We can obtain such currents by means of an apparatus which con- stitutes a veritable electrical pendulum. Let two conductors be united by a wire. If they have not the same electric potential the electrical equilibrium is disturbed and tends to restore itself, just as the molar equilibrium is disturbed when a pendulum is carried away from the position of repose. A current is set up in the wire, tending to equalize the potential, just as the pendulum begins to move so as to be carried back to the position of repose. But the pendulum does not stop when it reaches that position. Its inertia carries it farther. Nor, when the two elec- trical conductors reach the same potential, does the current in the wire cease. The equilibrium instantaneously existing is at once destroyed by a cause analogous to inertia, namely self-induction. We know that when a current is interrupted it gives rise in parallel wires to an induced current in the same direction. The same effect is produced in the circuit itself, if that is not broken. In other words, a current will persist after the cessation of its causes, just as a moving body does not stop the instant it is no longer driven forward. When, then, the two potentials become equal, the current will go on and give the two conductors relative charges opposite to those they had at first. In this case, as in that of the pendulum, the position of equilibrium is passed, and a return motion is inevitable. Equilibrium, again instantaneously attained, is at once again broken for the same reason; and so the oscillations pursue one another ynceasingly. Calculation shows that the period depends on the capacity of the conductors in such a way that it is only necessary to diminish that capacity sufficiently (which is easily done) to have an electric pendu- lum capable of producing an alternating current of extremely short period. All that was well enough known by the theoretical researches of Lord Kelvin and by the experimentation of Federson on the oscillatory discharge of the Leyden jar. It was not that which constituted the originality of Hertz. PHYSICS 221 But it is not enough to construct a pendulum; it is further requisite to set it into oscillation. For that, it is necessary to carry it off from equilibrium and to let it go suddenly, that is to say, to release it in a time short as compared to the period of its oscillation. For if, having pulled a pendulum to one side by a string, we were to let go of the string more slowly that the pendulum would have descended of itself, it would reach the vertical without momentum, and no oscillation would be set up. In like manner, with an electric pendulum whose natural period is, say, a hundred-millionth of a second, no mechanical mode of release ° would answer the purpose at all, sudden as it might seem to us with our more than sluggish conceptions of promptitude. How, then, did Hertz solve the problem? A Fie@.1. The Hertz Exciter. To return to our electric pendulum, a gap of a few millimeters is made in the wire which joins the two conductors. This gap divides our apparatus into two symmetrical parts, which are connected to the two poles of a Ruhmkorff coil. The induced current begins to charge the two conductors, and the difference of their potential increases with relative slowness. At first the gap prevents a discharge from the conductors; the air in it plays the réle of insulator and maintains our pendulum in a posi- tion diverted from that of equilibrium. But when the difference of potential becomes great enough, a spark will jump across. If the self-induction is great enough and the capacity and resistance small enough, there will be an oscillatory discharge whose period can be brought down to a hundred-millionth of a second, 222 PHYSICS The oscillatory discharge would not, it is true, last long by itself; but it is kept up by the Ruhmkorff coil, whose current is itself oscillatory with a period of about a hundred-thousandth of a second, and thus the pendulum gets a new impulse as often as that. The instrument just described is called a resonance exciter. It produces oscillations which are reversed from a hundred million to a thousand million times per second. Thanks to this extreme frequency, they can produce inductive effects at great distances. To make these effects sensible another electric pendulum is used, called a resonator. In this the coil is suppressed. It consists simply of two little metallic spheres very near to one another, with a long wire connecting them in a roundabout way. The induction due to the exciter will set the reasonator in vibration the more intensely the more nearly the natural periods of vibration are the same. At certain phases of the vibration the difference of potential of the two spheres will be just great enough to cause the sparks to leap across. Production of the Interferences Thus we have an instrument which reveals the inductive waves which radiate from the exciter. We can study them in two ways. We may either expose the resonator to the direct induction of the exciter at a great distance, or else make this induction act at a small distance on a long conducting wire which the electric wave will follow and which in its turn will act at a small distance on the resonator. Whether the wave is propagated along a wire or across the air, interferences can be produced by reflection. In the first case it will be reflected at the extremity of the wire, which it will again pass through in the opposite direction. In the second case it can be reflected on a metallic leaf which will act as a mirror. In either case the reflected ray will interfere with the direct ray, and positions will be found in which the spark of the resonator will be extinguished. Experiments with a long wire are the easier and furnish much valuable information, but they cannot furnish an erperimentum crucis, since in the old theory, as in the new, the velocity of the electric wave in a wire should be equal to that of light. But experiments on direct induction at great distances are decisive. They not only show that the velocity of propagation of induction across air is finite, but also that it is equal to the velocity of the wave propagated along a wire, conform- ably to the ideas of Maxwell. PHYSICS 223 Synthesis of Light I shall insist less on other experiments of Hertz, more brilliant but less instructive. Concentrating with a parabolic mirror the wave of induction that emanates from the exciter, the German physicist obtained a true pencil of rays of electric force, susceptible of regular reflection and refraction. These rays, were the period but one-millionth of what it is, would not differ from rays of light. We know that the sun sends us several varieties of radiations, some luminiferous, since they act on the retina, others dark, infra-red, or ultra-violet, which reveal them- selves in chemical and calorific effects. The first owe the qualities which | render them sensible to us to a physiological chance. For the physicist, the infra-red differs from red only as red differs from green; it simply has a greater wave length. That of the Hertzian radiations is far greater still, but they are mere differences of degree, and if the ideas of Clerk Maxwell are true, the illustrious professor of Bonn has effected a genuine synthesis of light. Conclusion Nevertheless, our admiration for such unhoped-for successes must not let us forget what remains to be accomplished. Let us endeavor to take exact account of the results definitely acquired. In the first place, the velocity of direct induction through air is finite; for otherwise interferences could not exist. Thus the old electro- dynamics is condemned. But what is to be set up in its place? Is it to be the doctrine of Maxwell, or rather some approximation to that, for it would be too much to suppose that he had foreseen the truth in all its details? Though the probabilities are accumulating, no complete dem- onstration of that doctrine has ever attained. We can measure the wave length of the Hertzian oscillations. That length is the product of the period into the velocity of propagation. We should know the velocity if we knew the period; but this last is so minute that we cannot measure it; we can only calculate it by a for- mula due to Lord Kelvin. That calculation leads to figures agreeable to the theory of Maxwell; but the last doubts will only be dissipated when the velocity of propagation has been directly measured. (See Note [.) But this is not all. Matters are far from being as simple as this brief account of the matter would lead one to think. There are various complications. In the first place, there is around the exciter a true radiation of 224 PHYSICS induction. The energy of the apparatus radiates abroad, and if so source feeds it, it quickly dissipates itself and the oscillations are rapidly extinguished. Hence arises the phenomenon of multiple resonance, discovered by Messrs. Sarasin and De la Rive, which at first seemed irreconcilable with the theory. On the other hand, we know that light does not exactly follow the laws of geometrical optics, and the discrepancy, due to diffraction, increases proportionately to the wave length. With the great waves of the Hertzian undulations these phenomena must assume enormous importance and derange everything. It is doubtless fortunate, for the moment at least, that our means of observation are as coarse as they are, for otherwise the simplicity which struck us would give place to a dedalian complexity in which we should lose our way. No doubt a good many perplexing anomalies have been due to this. For the same reason the experiments to prove a refraction of the electrical waves can hardly be considered as demonstrative. It remains to speak of a difficulty still more grave, though doubt- less not insurmountable. According to Maxwell, the coefficient of elec- trostatic induction of a transparent body ought to be equal to the square of its index of refraction. Now this is not so. The few bodies which follow Maxwell’s law are exceptions. The phenomena are plainly far more complex than was at first thought. But we have not yet been able to make out how matters stand, and the experiments conflict with one another. Much, then, remains to be done. The identity of light with a vibra- tory motion in electricity is henceforth something more than a seductive hypothesis; it is a probable truth. But it is not yet quite proved. Norte I.—Since the above was written another great step has been taken. M. Blondlot has virtually succeeded, by ingenious experimental contrivances, in directly measuring the velocity of a disturbance along a wire. The number found differs little from the ratio of the units; that is, from the velocity of light, which is 300,000 kilometers per second. Since the interference experiments made at Geneva by Messrs. Sarasin and De la Rive have shown, as I said above, that induction is propagated in air with the same velocity as an electric disturbance which follows a conducting wire, we must conclude that the velocity of the induction is the same as that of light, which is a confirmation of the ideas of Maxwell. M. Fizeau had formerly found for the velocity of electricity a PHYSICS 225 number far smaller, about 180,000 kilometers. But there is no contra- diction. The currents used by M. Fizeau, though intermittent, were of small frequency and penetrated to the axis of the wire, while the cur- rents of M. Blondlot, oscillatory and ‘of very short period, remained superficial and were confined to a layer of less than a hundredth of a millimeter in thickness. One may readily suppose the laws of propa- gation are not the same in the two cases. Norte II.—I have endeavored above to render the explanation of the electrostatic attractions:and of the phenomena of induction com- prehensible by means of a simile. Now let us see what Maxwell’s idea is of the cause which produces the mutual attractions of currents. While the electrostatic attractions are taken to be due to a multi- tude of little springs—that is to say, to the elasticity of the ether—it is supposed to be the living force and inertia of the same fluid which pro- duce the phenomena of induction and electrodynamical effects. The complete calculation is far too extended for these pages, and I shall again content myself with a simile. I shall borrow it from a well known instrument—the centrifugal governor. The living force of this apparatus is proportional to the square of the angular velocity and to the square of the distance of the balls. According to the hypothesis of Maxwell, the ether is in motion in galvanic currents, and its living force is proportional to the square of the intensity of the current, which thus correspond, in the parallel I am endeavoring to establish, to the angular velocity of rotation. If we consider two currents in the same direction, the living force, with equal intensity, will be greater the nearer the currents are to one another. If the currents have opposite directions, the living force will be greater the farther they are apart. In order to increase the angular velocity of the regulator and con- sequently its living force, it is necessary to supply it with energy and consequently to overcome a resistance which we call its inertia. In the same way, in order to increase the intensity of a current, we must augment the living force of the ether, and it will be necessary to supply it with energy and to overcome a resistance which is nothing but the inertia of the ether and which we call the induction. The living force will be greater if the currents are in the same direction and near together. The energy to be furnished the counter electromotive force of induction will be greater. This is what we ex- press when we say that the mutual action of two currents is to be added Sis, 226 PHYSICS to their self-induction. The contrary is the case when their directions are opposite. If we separate the balls of the regulator, it will be necessary, in order to maintain the angular velocity, to furnish energy, because with equal angular velocity the living force is greater the more the balls are separated. In the same way, if two currents have the same direction and are brought toward one another, it will be necessary, in order to maintain the intensity to supply energy, because the living force will be aug- mented. We shall, therefore, have to overcome an electromotive force of induction which will tend to diminish the intensity of the currents. It would tend on the contrary to augment it, if the currents had the same direction and were carried apart, or if they had opposite direc- tions and were brought together. | Finally, the centrifugal force tends to increase the distance between the balls, which would augment the living force were the angular ve- locity to be maintained. In like manner, when the currents have the same direction, they attract each other—that is to say, they tend to approach each other, which would increase the living force if the intensity were maintained. If their directions are opposed they repel one another and tend to sep- arate, which would again tend to increase the living force were the intensity kept constant. Thus the electrostatic effects would be due to the elasticity of the ether and the electrodynamical phenomena to the living force. Now, ought this elasticity itself to be explained, as Lord Kelvin thinks, by rotations of small parts of the fluid? Different reasons may render this hypothesis attractive; but it plays no essential part in the theory of Maxwell, which is quite independent of it. In the same way, I have made comparisons with divers mechan- isms. But they are only similes, and pretty rough ones. A complete mechanical explanation of electrical phenomena is not to be sought in the volumes of Maxwell, but only a statement of the conditions which any such explanation has to satisfy. Precisely what will confer long life on the work of Maxwell is its being unentangled with any special mechanical hypothesis. tNOIS, Tae ~, et > nic i. an J {heen oul “e e . L Aes we poe’ CHEMISTRY 255 according to their atomic weights, the list seems naturally to break into families of related elements. This enabled Mendeléef to correct many of the atomic weights then accepted, and, what is most convincing, to describe closely hitherto undiscovered elements needed to fill out certain families, which afterward turned up with qualities tallying wonder- fully with his descriptions. THE PERIODIC VAW, OG THE CHEMICALS: HR Mis Nels The high honour bestowed by the Chemical Society in inviting me to pay a tribute to the world-famed name of Faraday by delivering this lecture has induced me to take for its subject the Periodic Law of the Elements—this being a generalization in chemistry which has of late attracted much attention. While science is pursuing a steady and onward movement, it is con- venient from time to time to cast a glance back on the route already traversed, and especially to consider the new conceptions which aim at discovering the general meaning of the stock of facts accumulated from day to day in our laboratories. Owing to the possession of laboratories, modern science now bears a new character, quite unknown, not only to antiquity, but even to the preceding century. Bacon’s and Descartes’ idea of submitting the mechanism of science simultaneously to experi- ment and reasoning has been fully realized in the case of chemistry, it having not only been possible but always customary to experiment. _Under the all-penetrating control of experiment, a new theory, even if crude, is quickly strengthened, provided it be founded on a sufficient basis; the asperities are removed, it is amended by degrees, and soon loses the phantom light of a shadowy form or of one founded on mere prejudice; it is able to lead to logical conclusions, and to submit to experimental proof. Willingly or not, in science we all must submit not to do what seems to us attractive from one point of view or from another, but to what represents an agreement between theory and experiment. Is it long since many refused to accept the generalizations involved in the law of Avogadro and Ampére, so widely extended by Gerhardt? We still may hear the voices of its opponents; they enjoy perfect free- dom, but vainly will their voices rise so long as they do not use the language of demonstrated facts. The striking observations with the spectroscope which have permitted us to analyze the chemical constitu- 256 CHEMISTRY tion of distant worlds, seemed at first applicable to the task of deter- mining the nature of the atoms themselves; but the working out of the idea in the laboratory soon demonstrated that the characters of spectra are determined, not directly by the atoms, but by the molecules into which the atoms are packed; and so it became evident that more verified facts must be collected before it will be possible to formulate new gen- eralizations capable of taking their place beside those ordinary ones based upon the conception of simple substances and atoms. But as the shade of the leaves and roots of living plants, together with the relics of a decayed vegetation, favour the growth of the seedling and serve to promote its luxurious development, in like manner sound generaliza- tions—together with the relics of those which have proved to be unten- able—promote scientific productivity, and insure the luxurious growth of science under the influence of rays emanating from the centers of sci- entific energy. Such centers are scientific associations and societies. Before one of the oldest and most powerful of these I am about to take the liberty of passing in review the twenty years’ life of a generalization which is known under the name of periodic law. It was in March, 1869, that I ventured to lay before the then youthful Russian Chemical Society the ideas upon the same subject which I had expressed in my just written “Principles of Chemistry.” Without entering into details, I will give the conclusions I then arrived at in the very words I used :— 1. The elements, if arranged according to their atomic weights, exhibit an evident periodicity of properties. 2. Elements which are similar as regards their chemical proper- ties have atomic weights which are either of nearly the same value (e. g., platinum, iridium, osmium) or which increase regularly (e. g., potassium, rubidium, czsium). 3. The arrangement of the elements, or of groups of elements, in the order of their atomic weights, corresponds to their so-called valen- cies, as well as, to some extent, to their distinctive chemical properties— as is apparent, among other series, in that of lithium, beryllium, barium, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and iron. 4. The elements which are the most widely diffused have small atomic weights. 5. The magnitude of the atomic weight determines the character of the element, just as the magnitude of the molecule determines the character of a compound. CHEMISTRY 207 6. We must expect the discovery of many yet unknown elements —for example, elements analogous to aluminum and silicon, whose atomic weight would be between 65 and 75. 7. The atomic weight of an element may sometimes be amended by a knowledge of those of the contiguous elements. Thus, the atomic weight of tellurium must lie between 123 and 126, and cannot be 128. 8. Certain characteristic properties of the elements can be fore- told from their atomic weights. The aim of this communication will be fully attained if I succeed in drawing the attention of investigators to those relations which exist between the atomic weights of dissimilar elements, which, so far as I know, have hitherto been almost completely neglected. I believe that the solution of some of the most important problems of our science lies in researches of this kind. To-day, twenty years after the above conclusions were formulated, they may still be considered as expressing the essence of the now well known periodic law. Reverting to the epoch terminating with the sixties, it is proper to indicate three series of data without the knowledge of which the peri- odic law could not have been discovered, and which rendered its appear- ance natural and intelligible. In the first place, it was at that time that the numerical value of atomic weights became definitely known. Ten years earlier such knowledge did not exist, as may be gathered from the fact that in 1860 chemists from all parts of the world met at Karlsruhe in order to come to some agreements, if not with respect to views relating to atoms, at any rate as regards their definite representation. Many of those present probably remember how vain were the hopes of coming to an under- standing, and how much ground was gained at that congress by the followers of the unitary theory so brilliantly represented by Cannizzaro. I vividly remember the impression produced by his speeches, which admitted of no compromise, and seemed to advocate truth itself, based on the conceptions of Avogadro, Gerhardt, and Regnault, which at that time were far from being generally recognized. And though no under- standing could be arrived at, yet the objects of the meeting were attained, for the ideas of Cannizzaro proved, after a few years, to be the only ones which could stand criticism, and which represented an atom as—‘“‘the smallest portion of an element which enters into a mole- x47, 208 CHEMISTRY > cule of its compound.” Only such real atomic weights—not conven- tional ones—could afford a basis for generalization. It is sufficient, by _ way of example, to indicate the following cases in which the relation is seen at once and is perfectly clear: 30 Rb=85 Uo 33 Ca==40 teary, Ba-—137 whereas with the equivalents then in use— Ke k6 Rb=85 Cs=133 ast) OT 4 3.5 Ba=68.5 the consecutiveness of change in atomic weight, which with the true values is so evident, completely disappears. Secondly, it had become evident during the period 1860-70, and even during the preceding decade, that the relations between the atomic weights of analogous elements were governed by some general and simple laws. Cooke, Cremers, Gladstone, Gmelin, Lenssen, Petten- kofer, and especially Dumas, had already established many facts bear- ing on that view. Thus Dumas compared the following groups of anal- ogous elements with organic radicles— Diff, Diff. Diff. Diff. ia a est rie er rk ah ie Na— 1-51 J]—3X8 fn tat Coa Aline a] —16 Tae |—2X44 ‘OI 3X8 K =39 Or fips talcive: Bi =207 Se sep) ed? Ba —68!~ 3 Te=64!— 3 and pointed out some really striking relationships, such as the fol- lowing | B==10, Cl==35.5==19T 16.5 Br=80==19T 2% 16.528 I==127—=2X 19 F2X 16.5 12X.28, A. Strecker, in his work, “Theorten und Experimente zur Be- stimmung der Atomgewichte der Elemente’ (Braunschweig, 1859), after summarizing the data relating to the subject, and pointing out the remarkable series of equivalents— Cr26.2 \/Mne=-27.0)\ (Pe 28 Neg NOOR 22 107 Ze 32.6 remarks that: It is hardly probable that all the above-mentioned rela- tions between the atomic weights (or equivalents) of chemically analo- gous elements are merely accidental. We must, however, leave to the CHEMISTRY 259 future the discovery of the Jaw of the relations which appears in these figures. In such attempts at arrangement and in such views are to be rec- ognized the real forerunners of the periodic law; the ground was pre- pared for it between 1860 and 1870, and that it was not expressed in a determinate form before the end of the decade may, I suppose, be ascribed to the fact that only analogous elements had been compared. The idea of seeking for a relation between the atomic weights of all the elements was foreign to the ideas then current, so that neither the wis tellurique of De Chancourtois, nor the law of octaves of Newlands like Dumas and Strecker, more than Lenssen and Pettenkofer, had made an approach to the periodic law and had discovered its germs. The solu- tion of the problem advanced but slowly, because the facts, but not the law, stood foremost in all attempts; and the law could not awaken a general interest so long as elements, having no apparent connection with each other, were included in the same octave, as, for example :— 1st octave of Newlands, H, F, Cl, Co & Ni, Br, Pd, I, Pt & Ir. Win Catton, (ies Se a ae RAL eV Att Cs Ory Lat Analogies of the above order seemed quite accidental, and the more so as the octave contained occasionally ten elements instead of eight, and when two such elements as Ba and V, Co and Ni, or Rh and Ru, occu- pied one place in the octave. Nevertheless the fruit was ripening, and I now see clearly that Strecker, De Chancourtois, and Newlands stood foremost in the way towards the discovery of the periodic law, and that they merely wanted the boldness necessary to place the whole question at such a height that its reflection on the facts could be clearly seen. A third circumstance which revealed the periodicity of chemical ele- ments was the accumulation, by the end of the sixties, of new informa- tion respecting the rare elements, disclosing their many-sided relations to the other elements and to each other. The researches of Marignac on niobium, and those of Roscoe on vanadium, were of special moment. The striking analogies between vanadium and phosphorus on the one hand, and between vanadium and chromium on the other, which are so apparent in the investigations connected with that element, naturally induced the comparison of V==51 with Cr=52, Nb=94 with Mo=96, Ta=192 with W=194; while, on the other hand,P=31 could be com- pared with S==32, As=75 with Se—79, and Sb—120 ‘with 'Te==-125- From such approximations there remained but one step to the discovery of the law of periodicity. | 260 CHEMISTRY The law of periodicity was thus a direct outcome of the stock of generalizations and established facts which had accumulated by the end of the decade 1860-70: it is an embodiment of those data in a more or less systematic expression. Where, then, lies the secret of the special importance which has since been attached to the periodic law, and has raised it to the position of a generalization which has already given to chemistry unexpected aid, and which promises to be far more fruitful in the future and to impress upon several branches of chemical research a peculiar and original stamp? The remaining part of my communication will be an attempt to answer this question. In the first place, we have the circumstance that, as soon as the law amade its appearance, it demanded a revision of many facts which were considered by chemists as fully established by existing experience. I shall return later on, briefly to this subject, but I wish now to remind you that the periodic law, by insisting on the necessity for a revision of supposed facts, exposed itself at once to destruction in its very origin. Its first requirements, however, have been almost entirely satisfied dur- ing the last twenty years; the supposed facts have yielded to the law, thus proving that the law itself was a legitimate induction from the ver- ified facts. But our inductions from data have often to do with such details of a science so rich in facts, that only generalizations which cover a wide range of important phenomena can attract general attention. ‘What were the regions touched on by the periodic law? This is what we shall now consider. The most important point to notice is, that periodic functions, used for the purpose of expressing changes which are dependent on varia- tions of time and space, have been long known. They are familiar to the mind when we have to deal with motion in closed cycles, or with any kind of deviation from a stable position, such as occurs in pendulum ‘oscillations. A like periodic function became evident in the case of the elements, depending on the mass of the atom. The primary conception of the masses of bodies, or of the masses of atoms, belongs to a category which the present state of science forbids us to discuss, because as yet we have no means of dissecting or analyzing the conception. All that was known of functions dependent on masses derived its origin from ‘Galileo and Newton, and indicated that such functions either increase or decrease with the increase of mass, like the attraction of celestial bodies. The numerical expression of the phenomena was always found to be proportional to the mass, and in no case was an increase of mass CHEMISTRY 261 followed by a recurrence of properties such as is disclosed by the peri- odic law of the elements. This constituted such a novelty in the study of the phenomena of nature that, although it did not lift the veil which conceals the true conception of mass, it nevertheless indicated that the explanation of that conception must be searched for in the masses of the atoms; the more so, as all masses are nothing but aggregations, or addi- tions of chemical atoms which would be best described as chemical indi- viduals. Let me remark, by the way, that though the Latin word “imdividual” is merely a translation of the Greek word “atom,” neverthe- less history and custom have drawn a sharp distinction between the two | words, and the present chemical conception of atoms is nearer to that defined by the Latin word than by the Greek, although this latter also has acquired a special meaning which was unknown to the classics. The periodic law has shown that our chemical individuals display a harmonic periodicity of properties dependent on their masses. Now natural sci- ence has long been accustomed to deal with periodicities observed in nature, to seize them with the vise of mathematical analysis, to submit them to the rasp of experiment. And these instruments of scientific thought would surely long since have mastered the problem connected with the chemical elements, were it not for a new feature which was brought to light by the periodic law and which gave a peculiar and original character to the periodic function. If we mark on an axis of abscissz a series of lengths proportional to angles, and trace ordinates which are proportional to sines or other trigonometrical functions, we get periodic curves of a harmonic charac- ‘ter. So it might seem, at first sight, that with the increase of atomic weights the function of the properties of the elements should also vary in the same harmonious way. But in this case there is no such continu- ous change as in the curves just referred to, because the periods do not contain the infinite number of points constituting a curve, but a finite number only of such points. An example will better illustrate this view. The atomic weights— Af=—108) .Cd==112 Wiehe nar 1S Sb==120 ‘esi 2h te 7 steadily increase, and their increase is accompanied by a modification of many properties, which constitutes the essence of the periodic law. Thus, for example, the densities of the above elements decrease steadily, being respectively— 262 CHEMISTRY 10.5 8.6 ype 7.2 6.7 6.4 4.9 while their oxides contain an increasing quantity of oxygen— A Cd, O, In, O, Sn Og Sb inn en LARS pe But to connect by a curve the summits of the ordinates expressing any of these properties would involve the rejection of Dalton’s law of multiple proportions. Not only are there no intermediate elements between silver, which gives AgCl, and cadmium, which gives CdCl,, but according to the very essence of the periodic law, there can be none: in fact a uniform curve would be inapplicable in such a case, as it would lead us to expect elements possessed of special properties at any point of the curve. The periods of the elements have thus a character very different from those which are so simply represented by geometers. They correspond to points, to numbers, to sudden changes destitute of intermediate steps or positions, in the absence of elements intermediate between, say silver and cadmium, or aluminum and silicon, we must recognize a problem to which no direct application of the analysis of the infinitely small can be made. Therefore, neither the trigonometrical functions proposed by Ridberg and Flavitzky, nor the pendulum oscilla- tions suggested by Crookes, nor the cubical curves of the Rev. Mr. Haughton, which have been proposed for expressing the periodic law, from the nature of the case, can represent the periods of the chemical elements. If geometrical analysis is to be applied to this subject, it will require to be modified in a special manner. It must find the means of representing in a special way, not only such long periods, as that com- prising— K Ca Sc Ti V Cr Mn Fe Co Ni Cu Zn Ga Ge As Se Br, but short periods like the following :-— Mano ALN Ss oi iiss Cd In the theory of numbers only do we find problems analogous to ours, and two attempts at expressing the atomic weights of the elements by algebraic formule seem to be deserving of attention, although none of them can be considered as a complete theory, nor as promising finally to solve the problem of the periodic law. The attempt of E. J. Mills (1886) does not even aspire to attain this end. He considers that all atomic weights can be expressed by a logarithmic function, 15 (n—0.9375"), in which the variables » and ¢ are whole numbers. Thus, for oxygen, au==2, and t=1, whence its atomic weight is ==15.94; in the case of chlorine, bromine, and iodine, has respective values of 3, 6, and 9, CHEMISTRY 263 whilst =7, 6, and 9; in the case of potassium, rubidium, and cesium, u—4, 6, and 9, and &=14, 18, and 20. Another attempt was made in 1888 by B. N. Tchitchérin. Its author places the problem of the periodic law in the first rank, but as yet he has investigated the alkali metals oniy. Tchitchérin first noticed the simple relations existing between the atomic volumes of all alkali metals ; they can be expressed, according to his views, by the formula A (2—0.00535An), | where A is the atomic weight, and 2 is equal to 8 for lithium and sodium, to 4 for potassium, to 3 for rubidium, and to 2 for cesium. If - m remained equal to 8 during the increase of A, the volume would become zero at A=46 2-3, and it would reach its maximum at A==23 1-3. The close approximation of the number 46 2-3 to the dif- ferences between the atomic weights of analogous elements (such as Cs-Rb, I-Br, and so on) ; the close correspondence of the number 23 1-3 to the atomic weight of sodium; the fact of m being necessarily a whole number, and several other aspects of the question, induce Tchitchérin to believe that they afford a clue to the understanding of the nature of the elements; we must, however, await the full development of his theory before pronouncing judgment on it. What we can at present only be certain of is this: that attempts like the two above named must be repeated and multiplied, because the periodic law has clearly shown that the masses of the atoms increase abruptly, by steps, which are clearly connected in some way to Dalton’s law of multiple proportions; and because the periodicity of the elements finds expression in the transition _from RX to RX,, RX,, RX,, and so on till RX,, at which point, the energy of the combining forces being exhausted, the series begins anew from RX to RX,, and so on. While connecting by new bonds the theory of the chemical ele- ments with Dalton’s theory of multiple proportions, or atomic structure of bodies, the periodic law opened for natural philosophy a new and wide field for speculation. Kant said that there are in the world “two things which never cease to call for the admiration and reverence of man: the moral law within ourselves, and the stellar sky above us. But when we turn our thoughts towards the nature of the elements and the periodic law, we must add a third subject, namely, “the nature of the elementary individuals which we discover everywhere around us.” ‘Without them the stellar sky itself is inconceivable ; and in the atoms we see at once their peculiar individualities, the infinite multiplicity of the 264 | CHEMISTRY individuals, and the submission of their seeming freedom to the general harmony of nature. Having thus indicated a new mystery of nature, which does not yet yield to rational conception, the periodic law, together with the revela- tions of spectrum analysis, have contributed to again revive an old but remarkably long-lived hope—that of discovering, if not by experiment, at least by a mental effort, the primary matter—which had its genesis in the minds of the Grecian philosophers, and has been transmitted, together with many other ideas of the classic period, to the heirs of their civilization. Having grown, during the times of the alchemists up to the period when experimental proof was required, the idea has ren- dered good service; it induced those careful observations and experi- ments which later on called into being the works of Scheele, Lavoisier, Priestley, and Cavendish. It then slumbered awhile, but was soon awakened by the attempts either to confirm or to refute the ideas of | Prout as to the multiple proportion relationship of the atomic weights of all the elements. And once again the inductive or experimental method of studying Nature gained a direct advantage from the old Pythagorean idea: because atomic weights were determined with an accuracy for- merly unknown. But again the idea could not stand the ordeal of exper- imental test, yet the prejudice remains and has not been uprooted, even by Stas ; nay, it has gained new vigor, for we see that all which is imper- fectly worked out, new and unexplained, from the still scarcely studied rare metals to the hardly perceptible nebulz, have been used to justify it. As soon as spectrum analysis appears as a new and powerful weapon of chemistry, the idea of a primary matter is immediately attached to it. From all sides we see attempts to constitute the imaginary substance helium, the so much longed for primary matter. No attention is paid to the circumstance that the helium line is only seen in the spectrum of the solar protuberances, so that its universality in Nature remains as problematic as the primary matter itself; nor to the fact that the helium line is wanting amongst the Fraunhofer lines of the solar spectrum, and thus does not answer to the brilliant fundamental conception which gives its real force to spectrum analysis. And finally, no notice is even taken of the indubitable fact that the brilliancies of the spectral lines of the simple substances vary under dif- ferent temperatures and pressures; so that all probabilities are in favor of the helium line simply belonging to some long since known element placed under such conditions of temperature, pressure, and gravity as CHEMISTRY 265 have not yet been realized in our experiments. Again, the idea that the excellent investigations of Lockyer of the spectrum of iron can be in- terpreted in favor of the compound nature of that element, evidently must have arisen from some misunderstanding. The spectrum of a compound certainly does not appear as a. sum of the spectra of its com- ponents; and therefore the observations of Lockyer can be considered precisely as a proof that iron undergoes no other changes at the tem- perature of the sun than those which it experiences in the voltaic arc— provided the spectrum of iron is preserved. As to the shifting of some of the lines of the spectrum of iron while the other lines maintain their positions, it can be explained, as shown by M. Kleiber (Journal of the Russian Chemical and Physical Society, 1885, 147) by the relative motion of the various strata of the sun’s atmosphere, and by Zollner’s laws of the relative brilliancies of different lines of the spectrum. More- over, it ought not to be forgotten that if iron were really proved to con- sist of two or more unknown elements, we should have an increase in the number of our elements—not a reduction, and still less a reduction of all of them to one single primary matter. Feeling that spectrum analysis will not yield a support to the Pythagorean conception, its modern promoters are so bent upon its being confirmed by the periodic law, that the illustrious Berthellot, in his work, “Les Origines de l Alchimie,”’ 1885, 313, has simply mixed up the fundamental idea of the law of periodicity with the ideas of Prout, the alchemists, and Democritus about primary matter. But the periodic law, based as it is on the solid and wholesome ground of experimental research, has been evolved independently of any conception as to the nature of the elements; it does not in the least originate in the idea of a unique matter, and it has no historical connection with that relic of the torments of classical thought, and therefore it affords no more indica- tion of the unity of matter or of the compound character of our ele- ments, than the law of Avogadro, or the law of specific heats, or even the conclusions of spectrum analysis. None of the advocates of a unique matter have ever tried tu explain the law from the standpoint of ideas taken from a remote antiquity when it was found convenient to admit the existence of many gods—and of a unique matter. When we try to explain the origin of the idea of a unique primary matter, we easily trace that in the absence of inductions from experiment it derives its origin from the scientifically philosophical attempt at dis- covering some kind of unity in the immense diversity of individualities 266 CHEMISTRY which we see around. In classical times such a tendency could only be satisfied by conceptions about the immaterial world. As to the material world, our ancestors were compelled to resort to some hypothesis, and they adopted the idea of unity in the formative material, because they were not able to evolve the conception of any other possible unity in order to connect the multifarious relations of matter. Responding to the same legitimate scientific tendency, natural science has discovered throughout the universe a unity of plan, a unity of forces, and the con- vincing conclusions of modern science compel everyone to admit these kinds of unity. But while we admit unity in many things, we none the less must also explain the individuality and the apparent diversity which we cannot fail to trace everywhere. It has been said of old, “Give us a fulcrum, and it will become easy to displace the earth.”’ So also we must say, “Give us something that is individualised, and the apparent diversity will be easily understood.”’ Otherwise, how could unity result in a multitude? After a long and painstaking research, natural science has discov- ered the individualities of the chemical elements, and therefore it is now capable not only of analysing, but also of synthesising: it can under- stand and grasp generality and unity, as well as the individualised and the multifarious. The general and universal, like time and space, like force and motion, vary uniformly; the uniform admit of interpolations, revealing every intermediate phase. But the multitudinous, the indi- vidualized—such as ourselves, or the chemical elements, or the members of a peculiar periodic function of the elements, or Dalton’s multiple proportions—is characterized in another way: we see in it, side; by side with a connecting general principle, leaps, breaks of continuity, points which escape from the analysis of the infinitely small—an absence of complete intermediate links. Chemistry has found an answer to the question as to the causes of multitudes; and while retaining the con- ception of many elements, all submitted to the discipline of a general law, it offers an escape from the Indian Nirvana—the absorption in the universal, replacing it by the individualised. However, the place for individuality is so limited by the all-grasping, all-powerful universal, that it is merely a point of support for the understanding of multitude in unity. Having touched upon the metaphysical bases of the conception of a unique matter which is supposed to enter into the composition of all bodies, I think it necessary to dwell upon another theory, akin to the CHEMISTRY : 287 above conception-theory of the compound character of the elements now admitted by some—and especially upon one particular circumstance which, being related to the periodic law, is considered to be an argu- ment in favour of that hypothesis. Dr. Pelopidas, in 1883, made a communication to the Russian Chemical and Physical Society on the periodicity of the hydrocarbon radicles, pointing out the remarkable parallelism which was to be noticed in the change of properties of hydrocarbon radicles and elements when classed in groups. Professor Carnelley, in 1886, developed a similar parallelism. The idea of M. Pelopidas will be easily understood if we ) consider the series of hydrocarbon radicles which contain, say, 6 atoms of carbon :— Li II. TIT. TV. Vv. VI. Vil. VIII. C.His CoHi, CoHi CoH. C,H, C,H, - C,H, C,H, The first of these radicles, like the elements of the first group, com- bines with Cl, OH, and so on, and gives the derivatives of hexyl alco- hol, C,H,, (OH) ; but, in proportion as the number of hydrogen atoms decreases, the capacity of the radicles, of combining with, say, the halo- gens, increases. C,H,, already combines with 2 atoms of chlorine; C,H,, with 3 atoms, and so on. The last members of the series com- prise the radicles of acids: thus C,H,, which belongs to the sixth group, gives, like sulphur, a bibasic acid, C,H,O, (OH)., which is homolo- gous with oxalic acid. The parallelism can be traced still further, because C,H, appears as a monovalent radicle of benzine, and with it begins a new series of aromatic derivatives, so analogous to the derivatives of ‘the fat series. Let me also mention another example from among those which have been given by M. Pelopidas. Starting from the alka- line radicle of monomethylammonium, N(CH,)H,, or NCH,, which presents many analogies with the alkaline metals of the first group, he arrives, by successively diminishing the number of atoms of hydrogen, at a 7th group which contains cyanogen, Cn, which has long since been compared to the halogens of the seventh group. The most important consequence which, in my opinion, can be drawn from the above comparison is that the periodic law, so apparent in the elements, has a wider application than might appear at first sight ; it opens up a new vista of chemical evolutions. But, while admitting the fullest parallelism between the periodicity of the elements and that of the compound radicles, we must not forget that in the periods of the hydrocarbon radicles we have a decrease of mass as we pass from the 268 CHEMISTRY representatives of the first group to the next, while in the periods of the elements the mass increases during the progression. It thus becomes evident that we cannot speak of an identity of periodicity in both cases, unless we put aside the ideas of mass and attraction, which are the real corner-stones of the whole of natural science, and even enter into those very conceptions of simple substances which came to light a full hun- dred years later than the immortal principles of Newton. From the foregoing, as well as from the failures of so many at- tempts at finding in experiment and speculation a proof of the com- pound character of the elements and of the existence of primordial matter, it is evident, in my opinion, that this theory must be classed among mere utopias. But utopias can only be combated by freedom of opinion, by experiment, and by new utopias. In the republic of scien- tific theories freedom of opinions is guaranteed. It is precisely that freedom which permits me to criticise openly the widely-diffused idea as to the unity of matter in the elements. Experiments and attempts at confirming that idea have been so numerous that it really would be in- structive to have them all collected together, if only to serve as a warn- ing against the repetition of old failures. And now as to new utopias which may be helpful in the struggle against the old ones, I do not think it quite useless to mention a phantasy of one of my students who im- agined that the weight of bodies does not depend upon their mass, but upon the character of the motion of their atoms. The atoms, according to this new utopian, may all be homogeneous or heterogeneous, we know not which; we know them in motion only, and that motion they maintain with the persistence as the stellar bodies maintain theirs. The weights of atoms differ only in consequence of their various modes and quantity of motion; the heaviest atoms may be much simpler than an atom of hydrogen—the manner in which it moves causes it to be heavier. My interlocutor even suggested that the view which attributes the greater complexity to the lighter elements finds confirmation in the fact that the hydrocarbon radicles mentioned by Pelopidas, while becoming lighter as they lose hydrogen, change their properties periodically in the same manner as the elements change theirs, according as the atoms grow heavier. The French proverb, La critique est facile, mais l'art est dtficile, however, may well be reversed in the case of all such ideal views, as it is much easier to formulate than to criticise them. Arising from the virgin soil of newly-established facts, the knowledge relating to the CHEMISTRY 269 elements, to their masses, and to the periodic changes of their properties has given a motive for the formation of utopian hypotheses, probably because they could not be foreseen by the aid of any of the various metaphysical systems, and exist, like the idea of gravitation, as an independent outcome of natural science, requiring the acknowledgment of general laws, when these have been established with the same degree of persistency as is indispensable for the acceptance of a thoroughly established fact. Two centuries have elapsed since the theory of gravi- tation was enunciated, and although we do not understand its cause, we - still must regard gravitation as a fundamental conception of natural philosophy, a conception which has enabled us to perceive much more than the metaphysicians did or could with their seeming omniscience. A hundred years later the conception of the elements arose; it made chemistry what it now is; and yet we have advanced as little in our comprehension of simple substances since the times of Lavoisier and Dalton as we have in our understanding of gravitation. The periodic law of the elements is only twenty years old; it is not surprising, there- fore, that, knowing nothing about the causes of gravitation and mass, or about the nature of the elements, we do not comprehend the rationale of the periodic law. It is only by collecting established laws—that is, by working at the acquirement of truth—that we can hope gradually to lift the veil which conceals from us the causes of the mysteries of Nature and to discover their mutual dependency. Like the telescope and the microscope, laws founded on the basis of experiments are the instru- _ments and means of enlarging our mental horizon. In the remaining part of my communication I shall endeavour to show, and as briefly as possible, in how far the periodic law contributes to enlarge our range of vision. Before the promulgation of this law the chemical elements were mere fragmentary, incidental facts in Na- ture; there was no special reason to expect the discovery of new ele- ments, and the new ones which were discovered from time to time appeared to be possessed of quite novel properties. The law of period- icity first enabled us to perceive undiscovered elements at a distance which formerly was inaccessible to chemical vision; and long ere they were discovered new elements appeared before our eyes possessed of a number of well-defined properties. We now know three cases of ele- ments whose existence and properties were foreseen by the instrumen- tality of the periodic law. I need but mention the brilliant discovery of gallium, which proved to correspond to eka-aluminum of the periodic 270 CHEMISTRY law, by Lecog de Boisbaudran, of scandium, corresponding to ekaboron, by Nilson; and of germanium, which proved to correspond in all re- spects to ekasilicon, by Winkler. When, in 1871, I described to the Russian Chemical Society the properties, clearly defined by the periodic law, which such elements ought to possess, I never hoped that I should be able to mention their discovery to the Chemical Society of Great Britain as a confirmation of the exactitude and the generality of the periodic law. Now that I have had the happiness of doing so, I un- hesitatingly say that, although greatly enlarging our vision, even now the periodic law needs further improvements in order that it may become a trustworthy instrument in further discoveries. SIR NORMAN LOCKYER Sir JosEpH NoRMAN LocKYER was born at Rugby, England, May 17, 1836. He entered the War Office in 1857. His great scientific edu- cation is largely self-acquired. He is one of the originators of the mete- oric hypothesis that the earth and other spheres are the result of the aggregation of meteorites. In chemistry he is working out the train of thought suggested by the periodic law that the atoms which we know are themselves compounds. THE CHEMISTRY OF THE STARS When, on returning from India, I found that you had during my absence done me the honor of unanimously electing me your president, I began to cast about for a subject on which to address you. Curiously enough, shortly afterwards an official inquiry compelled me to make myself acquainted with the early doings of the Royal Commission of the Exhibition of 1851, on which I have lately been elected to serve, and in my reading I found a full account of the establishment of your institute ; of the laying of the foundation stone by the late Prince Con- sort in 1855, and of his memorable speech on that occasion. Here, I thought, was my subject; and when I heard that the admirable work CHEMISTRY 271 done by this and other local institutions had determined the inhabitants of this important city and neighborhood to crown the edifice by the foundation of a university, I thought the matter settled. This idea, however, was nipped in the bud by a letter which in- formed me that the hope had been expressed that I should refer to some branch of astronomical work. I yielded at once, and because I felt that I might thus be able to show cause why the making of knowledge should occupy a large place in your new university, and thus distinguish it from other universities more or less decadent. The importance of practical work, the educational value of the seeking after truth by experiment and observation on the part of even young students, are now generally recognized. That battle has been fought and won. But there is a tendency in the official direction of seats of learning to consider what is known to be useful, because it is used, in the first place. The fact that the unknown, that is, the unstudied, is the mine from which all scientific knowledge with its million applica- tions has been won is too often forgotten. Bacon, who was the first to point out the importance of experiment in the physical sciences, and who predicted the applications to which I have referred, warns us that “Jucifera experimenta non fructifera quae- renda;’ and surely we should highly prize those results which enlarge the domain of human thought and help us to understand the mechanism of the wonderful universe in which our lot is cast, as well as those which add to the comfort and the convenience of our lives. ‘ It would be also easy to show by many instances how researches, considered ideally useless at the time they were made, have been the origin of the most tremendous applications. One instance suffices. Faraday’s trifling with wires and magnets has already landed us in one of the greatest revolutions which civilization has witnessed; and where the triumphs of electrical science will stop no man can say. This is a case in which the useless has been rapidly sublimed into utility so far as our material wants are concerned. I propose to bring to your notice another “useless” observation sug- gesting a line of inquiry which I believe sooner or later is destined pro- foundly to influence human thought along many lines. Fraunhofer at the beginning of this century examined sunlight and starlight through a prism. He found that the light received from the sun differed from that of the stars. So uselss did his work appear that we had to wait for half a century till any considerable advance was 272 CHEMISTRY made. It was found at last that the strange “lines” seen and named by Fraunhofer were precious indications of the chemical substances present in worlds immeasurably remote. We had, after half a century’s neglect, the foundation of solar and stellar chemistry, an advance in knowledge equaling any other in its importance. In dealing with my subject I shall first refer to the work which has been done in more recent years with regard to this chemical conditioning of the atmospheres of stars, and afterwards very briefly show how ' this work carries us into still other new and wider fields of thought. The first important matter which lies on the surface of such a gen- eral inquiry as this is that if we deal with the chemical elements as judged by the lines in their spectra we know for certain of the existence of oxygen, of nitrogen, of argon, representing one class of gases, in no celestial body whatever; whereas, representing other gases, we have a tremendous demonstration of the existence of all the known lines of hydrogen and helium. We see, then, that the celestial sorting out of gases is quite differ- ent from the terrestrial one. Taking the substances classed by the chemist as non-metals, we find carbon and silicium—lI prefer, on account of its stellar behavior, to call it silicium, though it is old fashioned—present in celestial phenomena. We have evidence of this in the fact that we have a considerable develop- ment of carbon in some stars and an indication of silicium in others. But these are the only non-metals observed. Now, with regard to the metallic substances which we find, we deal chiefly with calcium, stron- tium, iron, and magnesium. Others are not absolutely absent, but their percentage quantity is so small that they are negligible in a general statement. Now do_ these chemical elements exist indiscriminately in all the celestial bodies, so that practically, from a chemical point of view, the bodies appear to us of similar chemical constitution? No; it is not so. From the spectra of those stars which resemble the sun, in that they consist of an interior nucleus surrounded by an atmosphere which absorbs the light of the nucleus, and which, therefore, we study by means of this absorption, it is to be gathered that the atmospheres of some stars are chiefly gaseous—i. e., consisting of elements we recog- nize as gases here—of others chiefly metallic, of others again mainly composed of carbon or compounds of carbon. Here, then, we have spectroscopically revealed the fact that there is CHEMISTRY 273 considerable variation in the chemical constituents which build up the stellar atmospheres. This, though a general, is still an isolated statement. Can we con- nect it with another? One of the laws formulated by Kirchhoff in the infancy of spectroscopic inquiry has to do with the kind of radiation given out by bodies at different temperatures. A poker placed in a fire first becomes red, and, as it gets hotter, white hot. Examined in a spectroscope, we find that the red condition comes from the absence of blue light; that the white condition comes from the gradual addition of blue as the temperature increases. The law affirms that the hotter a mass of matter is the farther its spectrum extends into the ultraviolet. Hence the hotter a star is the farther does its complete or continu- ous spectrum lengthen out toward the ultraviolet and the less it is absorbed by cooler vapors in its atmosphere. Now, to deal with three of the main groups of stars, we find the fol- lowing very general result: GAseOUsiStArB i cenicde cee sclccwcblicaee seaieeice clos Longest spectrum. Metallic stars... 2.05... EA ceiclulesic ee aviaitevians Medium spectrum, CArDOl STATS. clsalaciey eins olealslcisiers aleels'eiaices'ea s/s Shortest spectrum We have now associated two different series of phenomena, and we are enabled to make the following statement : GASCONS BEATS My ildiein's a4'a'p scsi cia biud ecnie icc gsc Highest temperature. WECERLIVG SEATS Ce cca aislac ame Cuan ele ete dian Medium temperature, Garhonistara cco tbc iclgisg eais'sae cies caltin ee Lowest temperature. Hence the differences in apparent chemical constitutions are associ- ated with differences of temperature. Can we associate with the two to which I have already called atten- tion still a third class of facts? Laboratory work enables us to do this. When I began my inquiries the idea was, one gas or vapor, one spec- trum. We now know that this is not true; the systems of bright lines given out by radiating substances change with the temperature. We can get the spectrum of a well known compound substance— say carbonic oxide; it is one special to the compound; we increase the temperature so as to break up the compound, and we then get the spectra of its constituents, carbon and oxygen. But the important thing in the present connection is that the spectra of the chemical elements behave exactly in the same way as the spectra of known compounds do when we employ temperatures far higher than those which break up the compounds; and indeed in some X38, 274 CHEMISTRY cases the changes are more marked. For brevity I will take for pur- poses of illustration three substances, and deal with one increase of temperature only, a considerable one and obtainable by rendering a substance incandescent, first by a direct current of electricity, as happens in the so-called “arc lamps” employed in electric lighting, and next by the employment of a powerful induction coil and battery of Leyden jars. In laboratory parlance we pass thus from the arc to the jar-spark. In the case of magnesium, iron, and calcium, the changes observed on passing from the temperature of the arc to that of the spark have been minutely observed. In each, new lines are added or old ones are intensi- fied at the higher temperature. Such lines have been termed ‘“‘enhanced lines.” : | These enhanced lines are not seen alone; outside the region of high temperature in which they are produced, the cooling vapors give us the cool lines. Still we can conceive the enhanced lines to be seen alone at the highest temperature in a space sufficiently shielded from the action of all lower temperatures, but such a shielding is beyond our laboratory expedients. In watching the appearance of these special enhanced lines in stel- lar spectra we have a third series of phenomena available, and we find that the results are absolutely in harmony with what has gone before. Thus: Gaseous stars.. Highest temperature.. Strong helium and faint enhanced lines, Feeble helium and strong enhanced lines. No helium and strong arc lines. Carbon stars... Lowest temperature.. Faint arc lines, Metallic stars.. Medium temperature.. { It is clear now, not only that the spectral changes in stars are associ- ated with, or produced by, changes of temperature, but that the study of the enhanced spark and the arc lines lands us in the possibility of a rigorous stellar thermometry, such lines being more easy to observe than the relative lengths of spectrum. Accepting this, we can take a long stride forward and, by carefully studying the chemical revelations of the spectrum, classify the stars along a line of temperature. But which line? Were all the stars in popu- lar phraseology created hot? If so, we should simply deal with the run- ning down of temperature, and because all the hottest stars are chemically alike, all cooler stars would be alike. But there are two very distinct groups of coolest stars; and since there are two different kinds of coolest stars, and only one kind of hottest stars, it cannot be merely a question either of a running up or a running down of temperature. CHEMISTRY 275 Many years of very detailed inquiry have convinced me that all stars save the hottest must be sorted out into two series—those getting hotter and those, like our sun, getting cooler, and that the hottest stage in the history of a star is reached near the middle of its life. The method of inquiry adopted has been to compare large-scale photographs of the spectra of the different stars taken by my assistants at South Kensington; the complete harmony of the results obtained along various lines of other work carries conviction with it. We find ourselves here in the presence of minute details exhibiting the workings of a chemical law, associated distinctly with temperature ; and more than this, we are also in the presence of high temperature fur- naces, entirely shielded by their vastness from the presence of those distracting phenomena which we are never free from in the most perfect conditions of experiment we can get here. What, then, is the chemical law? It is this: In the very hottest stars we deal with the gases hydrogen, helium, and doubtless others still unknown, almost exclusively. At the next lowest temperatures we find these gases being replaced by metals in the state in which they are observed in our laboratories when the most powerful jar-spark is employed. At a lower temperature still the gases almost disappear entitely, and the metals exist in the state produced by the electric arc. Certain typical stars showing these chemical changes may be arranged as follows: Stars getting hotter, Hottest stars, Stars cooling, __—_——_—. Beellatrix ——————__——______-—. ¢ Tauri B Persei Rigel y Lyra @ Cygni Castor y Cygni Procyon a Orionis Arcturus and Sun, This, then, is the result of our first inquiry into the existence of the various chemical elements in the atmospheres of stars generally. We get a great diversity, and we know that this diversity accompanies changes of temperature. We have also found that the sun, which we independently know to be a cooling star, and Arcturus are identical chemically. We have now dealt with the presence of the various chemical ele- ments generally in the atmospheres of stars. The next point we have to consider is, whether the absorption which the spectrum indicates for us takes place from top to bottom of the atmosphere or only in certain levels. 276 CHEMISTRY In many of these stars the atmosphere may be millions of miles high. In each the chemical substances in the hottest and coldest por- tions may be vastly different. The region, therefore, in which this absorption takes place, which spectroscopically enables us to discrim- inate star from star, must be accurately known before we can obtain the greatest amount of information from our inquiries. Our next duty then, clearly, is to study the sun—a star so near us that we can examine the different parts of its atmosphere, which we cannot do in the case of the more distant stars. By doing this we may secure facts which will enable us to ascertain in what parts of the atmos- phere the absorption takes place which produces the various phenomena ~ on which the chemical classification has been based. It is obvious that the general spectrum of the sun, like that of stars generally, is built up of all the absorptions which can make themselves felt in every layer of its atmosphere from bottom to top; that is, from the photosphere to the outermost part of the corona. Let me remind you that this spectrum is changeless from year to year. Now, sun-spots are disturbances produced in the photosphere; and the chromosphere, with its disturbances, called prominences, lies directly above it. Here, then, we are dealing with the lowest part of the sun’s atmosphere. We find first of all that, in opposition to the changeless general spectrum, great changes occur with the sun-spot period, both in the spots and chromosphere. The spot spectrum is indicated, as was found in 1866, by the widen- ing of certain lines ; the chromospheric spectrum, as was found in 1868, by the appearance at the sun’s limb of certain bright lines. In both cases the lines affected, seen at any one time, are relatively few in number. In the spot spectrum, at a sun-spot minimum, we find iron lines chiefly affected; at a maximum they are chiefly of unknown or unfa- miliar origin. At the present moment the affected lines are those recorded in the spectra of vanadium and scandium, with others never seen in a laboratory. That we are here far away from terrestrial chemi- cal conditions is evidenced by the fact that there is not a gram of scan- dium available for laboratory use in the world at the present time. Then we have the spectrum of the prominences and the chromo- sphere. That spectrum we are enabled to observe every day when the sun shines as conveniently as we can observe that of sun spots. The chromosphere is full of marvels. At first, when our knowledge of spectra was very much more restricted than now, almost all the lines CHEMISTRY 277 observed were unknown. In 1868 I saw a line in the yellow, which I found behaved very much like hydrogen, though I could prove that it was not due to hydrogen; for laboratory use the substance which gave rise to it I called helium. Next year I saw a line in the green at 1474 of Kirchhoff’s scale. That was an unknown line, but in some subsequent researches I traced it to iron. From that day to this we have observed a large number of lines. They have gradually been dragged out from the region of the unknown, and many are now recognized as enhanced lines, to which I have already called attention as appearing in the spectra of metals at a very high temperature. But useful as the method of observing the chromosphere without an eclipse, which enables us 3 to feel from world to world,” as Tennyson has put it, has proved, we want an eclipse to see it face to face. A tremendous flood of light has been thrown upon it by the use of large instruments constructed on a plan devised by Respighi and myself in 1871. These give us an image of the chromosphere painted in each one of its radiations, so that the exact locus of each chemical layer is revealed. One of the instruments employed during the Indian eclipse of this year is that used in photographing the spectra of stars, so that it is now easy to place photographs of the spectra of the chromosphere obtained during a total eclipse and of the various stars side by side. T have already pointed out that the chemical classification indicated that the stars next above the sun in temperature are represented by y Cygni and Procyon, one on the ascending, the other on the descending branch of the temperature curve. Studying the spectra photographed during the eclipse of this year we see that practically the lower part of the sun’s atmosphere, if present by itself, would give us the lines which specialize the spectra of y Cygni or Procyon. I recognize in this result a veritable Rosetta stone, which will enable us to read the celestial hieroglyphics presented to us in stellar spectra, and help us to study the spectra and to get at results much more dis- tinctly and certainly than ever before. One of the most important conclusions we draw from the Indian eclipse is that, for some reason or other, the lowest, hottest part of the sun’s atmosphere does not write its record among the lines which build up the general spectrum so effectively as does a higher one. 278 CHEMISTRY There was another point especially important on which we hoped for information, and that was this: Up to the employment of the pris- matic camera insufficient attention had been directed to the fact that in observations made by an ordinary spectroscope no true measure of the height to which the vapors or gases extended above the sun could be obtained; early observations, in fact, showed the existence of glare between the observer and the dark moon; Lence it must exist between us and the sun’s surroundings. The prismatic camera gets rid of the effects of this glare, and its results indicate that the effective absorbing layer—that, namely, which gives rise to the Fraunhofer lines—is much more restricted in thickness than was to be gathered from the early observations. We are justified in extending these general conclusions to all the stars that shine in the heavens. So much, then, in brief, for solar teachings in relation to the record of the absorption of the lower parts of stellar atmospheres. Let us next turn to the higher portions of the solar surroundings, to see if we can get any effective help from them. In this matter we are dependent absolutely upon eclipses, and I shall fulfill my task very badly if I do not show you that the phenomena then observable when the so-called corona is visible, full of awe and grandeur to all, are also full of precious teaching to the student of sci- ence. This also varies like the spots and prominences with the sun- spot period. It happened that I was the only person that saw both the eclipse of 1871 at the maximum of the sun-spot period and that of 1878 at mini- mum; the corona of 1871 was as distinct from the corona of 1878 as anything could be. In 1871 we got nothing but bright lines, indicating the presence of gases; namely, hydrogen and another, since provision- ally called coronium. In 1878 we got no bright lines at all, so I stated that probably the changes in the chemistry and appearance of the corona would be found to be dependent upon the sun-spot period, and recent work has borne out that suggestion. I have now specially to refer to the corona as observed and photo- graphed this year in India by means of the prismatic camera, remark- ing that an important point in the use of the prismatic camera is that it enables us to separate the spectrum of the corona from that of the prominences. One of the chief results obtained is the determination of the position CHEMISTRY 279 of several lines of probably more than one new gas, which, so far, have not been recognized as existing on the earth. Like the lowest hottest layer, for some reason or other, this upper layer does not write its record among the lines which build up the general spectrum. GENERAL RESULTS REGARDING THE LOCUS OF ABSORPTION IN STELLAR ATMOSPHERES We learn from the sun, then, that the absorption which defines the spectrum of a star is the absorption of a middle region, one shielded both from the highest temperature of the lowest reaches of the atmos- phere, where most tremendous changes are continually going on and the external region where the temperature must be low, and where the metallic vapors must condense. If this is true for the sun it must be equally true for Arcturus, which exactly resembles it. I go further than this, and say that in the presence of such definite results as those I have brought before you it is not philosophical to assume that the absorption may take place at the bottom of the atmosphere of one star or at the top of the atmosphere of another. The onus proband: rests upon those who hold such views. So far I have only dealt in detail with the hotter stars, but I have pointed out that we have two distinct kinds of coolest ones, the evidence of their much lower temperature being the shortness of their spectra. In one of these groups we deal with absorption alone, as in those already considered; we find an important break in the phenomena observed; helium, hydrogen, and metals have practically disappeared, and we deal with carbon absorption alone. But the other group of coolest stars presents us with quite new phe- nomena. We no longer deal with absorption alone, but accompanying it we have radiation, so that the spectra contain both dark lines and bright ones. Now, since such spectra are visible in the case of new stars, the ephemera of the skies, which may be said to exist only for an instant relatively, and when the disturbance which gives rise to their sudden appearance has ceased, we find their places occupied by nebule, we cannot be dealing here with stars like the sun, which has already taken some millions of years to slowly cool, and requires more millions to complete the process into invisibility. The bright lines seen in the large number of permanent stars which resemble these fleeting ones—new stars, as they are called—are those discerned in the once mysterious nebule which, so far from being stars, 280 CHEMISTRY Were supposed not many years ago to represent a special order of cre- ated things. | Now the nebule differ from stars generally in the fact that in their spectra we have practically to deal with radiation alone; we study them by their bright lines; the conditions which produce the absorption by which we study the chemistry of the hottest stars are absent. A NEW VIEW OF STARS Here, then, we are driven to the perfectly new idea that some of the cooler bodies in the heavens, the temperature of which is increasing and which appear to us as stars, are really disturbed nebule. What, then, is the chemistry of the nebulze? It is mainly gaseous; the lines of helium and hydrogen anc the flutings of carbon, already | studied by their absorption in the groups of stars to which I have already referred, are present as bright ones. The presence of the lines of the metals iron, calcium, and probably magnesium, shows us that we are not dealing with gases merely. Of the enhanced metallic lines there are none; only the low temper- ature lines are present, so far as we yet know. The temperature, then,. is low, and lowest of all in those nebulz where carbon flutings are seen almost alone. A NEW VIEW OF NEBULAE Passing over the old views, among them one that the nebulz were holes in something dark which enabled us to see something bright beyond, and another that they were composed of a fiery fluid, I may say that not long ago they were supposed to be masses of gases only, existing at a very high temperature. Now, since gases may glow at a low temperature as well as at a. high one, the temperature evidence must depend upon the presence of cool metallic lines and the absence of the enhanced ones. The nebule, then, are relatively cool collections of some of the per-. manent gases and of some cool metallic vapors, and both gases and metals are precisely those I have referred to as writing their records most visibly in stellar atmospheres. Now, can we get more information concerning this association of certain gases and metals? In laboratory work it is abundantly recog- nized that all meteorites (and many minerals) when slightly heated give out permanent gases, and under certain conditions the spectrum CHEMISTRY 281 of the nebulae may in this way be closely approximated to. I have not time to labor this point, but I may say that a discussion of all the avail- able observations to my mind demonstrates the truth of the suggestion, made many years ago by Professor Tait before any spectroscopic facts were available, that the nebule are masses of meteorites rendered hot by collisions. Surely human knowledge is all the richer for this indication of the connection between the nebulz, hitherto the most mysterious bodies in the skies, and the “stones that fall from heaven.” CELESTIAL EVOLUTION But this is, after all, only a stepping stone, important though it be. It leads us to a vast generalization. If the nebulz are thus composed, they are bound to condense to centers, however vast their initial pro- portions, however irregular the first distribution of the cosmic clouds which compose them. Each pair of meteorites in collision puts us in mental possession of what the final stage must be. We begin with a feeble absorption of metallic vapors round each meteorite in collision; the space between the meteorites is filled with the permanent gases driven out farther afield and having no power to condense. Hence dark metallic and bright gas lines. As time goes on the former must pre- dominate, for the whole swarm of meteorites will then form a gaseous sphere with a strongly heated center, the light of which will be absorbed by the exterior vapor. The temperature order of the group of stars with bright lines as well as dark ones in their spectra has been traced, and typical stars indicating the chemical changes have been as carefully studied as those in which absorption phenomena are visible alone, so that now there are no breaks in the line connecting the nebulz with the stars on the verge of extinction. Here we are brought to another tremendous outcome—that of the evolution of all cosmical bodies from meteorites, the various stages recorded by the spectra being brought about by the various conditions which follow from the conditions. These are, shortly, that at first collisions produce luminosity among the colliding particles of the swarm, and the permanent gases are given off and fill the interspaces. As condensation goes on, the temperature at the center of condensation always increasing, all the meteorites in time are driven into a state of gas. The meteoritic bombardment prac- 282 CHEMISTRY tically now ceases for lack of material, and the future history of the mass of gas is that of a cooling body, the violent motions in the atmos- phere while condensation was going on now being replaced by a relative calm. The absorption phenomena in stellar spectra are not identical at the same mean temperature on the ascending and descending sides of the curve, on account of the tremendous difference in the physical con- ditions. In a condensing swarm, the center of which is undergoing mete- oritic bombardment from all sides, there cannot be the equivalent of the solar chromosphere ; the whole mass is made up of heterogeneous vapor at different temperatures and moving with different velocities in dif- ferent regions. In a condensed swarm, of which we can take the sun as a type, all action produced from without has practically ceased ; we get relatively a quiet atmosphere and an orderly assortment of the vapors from top to bottom, disturbed only by the fall of condensed metallic vapors. But still, on the view that the differences in the spectra of the heavenly bodies chiefly represent differences in degree of condensation and tem- perature, there can be au fond, no great chemical difference between bodies of increasing and bodies of decreasing temperature. Hence we find at equal mean temperatures on opposite sides of the temperature curve this chemical similarity of the absorbing vapors proved by many points of resemblance in the spectra, especially the identical behavior of the enhanced metallic and cleveite lines. CELESTIAL DISSOCIATION The time you were good enough to put at my disposal is now exhausted, but I cannot conclude without stating that I have not yet exhausted all the conceptions of a high order to which Fraunhofer’s apparently useless observation has led us. The work which to my mind has demonstrated the evolution of the cosmos as we know it from swarms of meteorites, has also suggested a chemical evolution equally majestic in its simplicity. A quarter of a century ago I pointed out that all the facts then available suggested the hypothesis that in the atmospheres of the sun and stars various degrees of “celestial dissociation’ were at work, a “dissociation”’ which prevented the coming together of the finest par- ticles of matter which at the temperature of the earth and at all arti- CHEMISTRY 283 ficial temperature yet attained here compose the metals, the metalloids and compounds. On this hypothesis the so-called atoms of the chemist represent not the origins of things, but only early stages of the evolutionary process. At the present time we have tens of thousands of facts which were not available twenty-five years ago. All these go to the support of the hypothesis, and among them I must indicate the results obtained at the last eclipse, dealing with the atmosphere of the sun in relation to that of the various stars of higher temperature to which I called your atten- tion. In this way we can easily explain the enhanced lines of iron exist- ing practically alone in Alpha Cygni. I have yet to learn any other explanation. I have nothing to take back, either from what I then said or what I have said since on this subject, and although the view is not yet accepted, I am glad to know that many other lines of work which are now being prosecuted tend to favor it. I have no hesitation in expressing my conviction that in a not dis- tant future the inorganic evolution to which we have been finally led by following up Fraunhofer’s useless experiment will take its natural place side by side with that organic evolution, the demonstration of which has been one of the glories of the nineteenth century. And finally now comes the moral of my address. If I have helped to show that observations having no immediate practical bearing may yet help on the thought of mankind, and that this is a thing worth the doing, let me express a hope that such work shall find no small place in the future University of Birmingham. 284 BIOLOGY In 1876 WEISMANN brought forward his theory of heredity. This was a Step in the doctrine of evolution. It denied the transmission of acquired characters, and did much to explain the process of heredity by the division of the parent cell. Whether or not we accept his thesis that acquired characters are never inherited, great credit is due him for his explanation of heredity. The principles of his theory are given below. The most important step in biology in the last of the century is the development of the science of bacteriology. In 1849-50 Pollender and Devaine discovered minute bodies in animals that had died of anthrax. They called them bacteria, but did not yet consider them the cause of the disease. At this time the doctrine of spontaneous generation held full sway. Nobody dreamed of asking why wounds gangrened, grapes moulded, wine soured, or like seemingly foolish questions. But about 1857 Pasteur took up the study of fermentation and showed conclu- sively that its cause is the presence and growth of a micro-organism. Devaine in 1863 re-investigated anthrax from this point of view and showed that such microbes were regularly present in the blood of animals that had died of the disease. In 1865 Pasteur showed that the way to prevent the silkworm disease, then ruining the industry in France, was to destroy everything infected with the microbe which caused the disease. In 1870 Koch of Wollstein took up the subject and invented his method of pure cultivation of the bacteria by culti- vating them in a thin layer of jelly between glass plates, picking out species, and thus recultivating and selecting until the product was abso- lutely of one kind. BIOLOGY 285 Pasteur and Cohn, by a series of the most careful experiments, con- ducted independently, gave the final blow to the spontaneous generation theory in the early seventies. Pasteur began applying his method of inoculation about 1876. The first successful experiment was on animals inoculated with anthrax. The uninoculated died ; the protected suffered no harm. Inoculation for chicken cholera was also successful. The germ has been found of tuberculosis (Koch, 1882), typhoid fever (Eberth, 1880), diphtheria (Klebs-Loeffier, 1883), cholera (Koch, 1884), lockjaw (Nicholaier, | 1884), the grip (Canon, 1892), pneumonia (Frankel, 1886), etc. Pas- teur’s treatment for hydrophobia, and Behring’s antitoxin give great hopes for the ultimate success of inoculation. AUGUST WEISMANN Dr. Aucust WEISMANN was born Jan. 17, 1834 at Frankfort-on- the-Main, where his father was Professor of Philology in the Lyceum. He studied medicine at Gottingen from 1852 to 1856. He was physician to the Archduke of Austria from 1860 to 1862. For the next ten years he could do no microscopic work on account of his eyesight. He studied Darwin’s theory of evolution closely and formed a great admiration for ~ him. In 1876 he published Studies in the Theory of Descent. This book commanded a great deal of attention among scientists and in the preface to the English translation of the work Darwin wrote: “At the present time there is hardly any question in biology of more importance than the nature and cause of variability (in individuals). Since the death of Darwin, Dr. Weismann has developed his theory of descent on purely original lines. It may be said that he conceives the germ-plasm as the basis of heredity. Dr. Weismann denies the transmission to a descendant of any quality, including contagious disease, acquired after birth. He regards sexual reproduction as a stupendous organization, by which nature is ever mixing together and forming new combinations of the hereditary qualities of a whole species. His principles are now accepted by the foremost scientists of Germany, where he has occupied the chair of zoology in Freidburg University since 1862, but in England the heated controversy which arose on the promulgation of his germ- plasm theory is still active. 286 BIOLOGY THE CONTINUITY OF THE GERM-PLASM AS THE FOUN- DATION OF A THEORY OF HEREDITY INTRODUCTION When we see that, in the higher organisms, the smallest structural details, and the most minute peculiarities of bodily and mental disposi- tion, are transmitted from one generation to another; when we find in all species of plants and animals a thousand characteristic peculiarities of structure continued unchanged through long series of generations; when we even see them in many cases unchanged throughout whole geological periods ; we very naturally ask for the causes of such a strik- the phenomenon: and inquire how it is that such facts become possible, how it is that the individual is able to transmit its structural features to its offspring with such precision. And the immediate answer to such a question must be given in the following terms:—‘“A single cell out of the millions of diversely differentiated cells which compose the body, becomes specialized as a sexual cell; it is thrown off from the organism and is capable of reproducing all the peculiarities of the parent body, in the new individual which springs from it by cell-division and the com- plex process of differentiation.”” Then the more precise question fol- lows: “How is it that such a single cell can reproduce the tout ensemble of the parent with all the faithfulness of a portrait?” ‘The answer is extremely difficult; and no one of the many attempts to solve the problem can be looked upon as satisfactory ; no one of them can be regarded as even the beginning of a solution or as a secure foun- dation from which a complete solution may be expected in the future. Neither Hiickel’s “Perigenesis of the Plastidule,’ nor Dar- win’s ‘‘Pangenesis,”’ can be regarded as such a beginning. The former hypothesis does not really treat of that part of the problem which is here placed in the foreground, viz., the explanation of the fact that the ten- dencies of heredity are present in single cells, but it is rather concerned with the question as to the manner in which it is possible to conceive the transmission of a certain tendency of development into the sexual cell, and ultimately into the organism arising from it. The same may be said of the hypothesis of His, who, like Hackel regards heredity as the transmission of certain kinds of motion. On the other hand, it must be conceded that Darwin’s hypothesis goes to the very root of the question, BIOLOGY 287 but he is content to give, as it were, a provisional or purely formal solu- tion, which, as he himself says, does not claim to afford insight into the real phenomena, but only to give us the opportunity of looking at all the facts of heredity from a common standpoint. It has achieved this end, and I believe it has unconsciously done more, in that the thoroughly logical application of its principles has shown that the real causes of heredity cannot lie in the formation of gemmules or in any allied phe- nomena. The improbabilities to which any such theory would lead are so great that we can affirm with certainty that its details cannot accord . with existing facts. Furthermore, Brooks’ well-considered and brilliant attempt to modify the theory of Pangenesis cannot escape the reproach that it is based upon possibilities, which one might certainly describe as improbabilities. But although I am of the opinion that the whole foun- dation of the theory of Pangenesis, however it may be modified, must be abandoned, I think, nevertheless, its author deserves great credit, and that its production has been one of those indirect roads along which science has been compelled to travel in order to arrive at the truth. Pan- genesis is a modern revival of the oldest theory of heredity, that of Democritus, according to which the sperm is secreted from all parts of the body of both sexes during copulation, and is animated by a bodily force; according to this theory also, the sperm from each part of the body reproduces the same part. If, according to the received physiological and morphological ideas of the day, it is impossible to imagine that gemmules produced by each cell of the organism are at all times to be found in all parts of the body, and furthermore that these gemmules are collected in the sexual cells, which are then able to again reproduce in a certain order each separate cell of the organism, so that each sexual cell is capable of developing into the likeness of the parent body; if all this is inconceivable, we must inquire for some other way in which we can arrive at a foundation for the true understanding of heredity. My present task is not to deal with the whole question of heredity, but only with the single although fun- damental question—“How is it that a single cell of the body can con- tain within itself all the hereditary tendencies of the whole organism ?”’ I am here leaving out of account the further question as to the forces and the mechanism by which these tendencies are developed in the build- ing-up of the organism. On this account I abstain from considering at present the views of Nigeli, for as will be shown later on, they only slightly touch this fundamental question, although they may certainly 288 7 | BIOLOGY claim to be of the highest importance with respect to the further ques- tion alluded to above. | Now if it is impossible for the germ-cell to be, as it were, an extract of the whole body, and for all the cells of the organism to dispatch small particles to the germ-cells, from which the latter derive their power of heredity ; then there remain, as it seems to me, only two other possible, pliysiologically conceivable, theories as to the origin of germ-cells, mani- festing such powers as we know they possess. Either the substance of the parent germ-cell is capable of undergoing a series of changes which, after the building-up of a new individual leads back again to identical germ-cells ; or the germ-cells are not derived at all, as far as their essén- tial and characteristic substance is concerned, from the body of the indi- vidual, but they are derived directly from the parent germ-cell. I believe that the latter view is the true one: I have expounded it for a number of years, and have attempted to defend it, and to work out its further details in various publications. I propose to call it the theory of “The Continuity of the Germ-plasm,” for it is founded upon the idea that heredity is brought about by the transference from one generation to another of a substance with a definite chemical, and above all, molec- ular constitution. I have called this substance “germ-plasm,”’ and have assumed that it possesses a highly complex structure, conferring upon it the power of developing into a complex organism. I have attempted to explain heredity by supposing that in each ontogeny a part of the spe- cific germ-plasm contained in the parent egg-cell is not used up in the construction of the body of the offspring, but is reserved unchanged for the formation of the germ-cells of the following generation. It is clear that this view of the origin of germ-cells explains the phenomena of heredity very simply, inasmuch as heredity becomes thus a question of growth and of assimilationn—the most fundamental of all vital phenomena. If the germ-cells of successive generations are directly continuous, and thus only form, as it were, different parts of the same substance, it follows that these cells must, or at any rate may, possess the same molecular constitution, and that they would therefore pass through exactly the same stages under certain conditions of develop- ment, and would form the same final product. The hypothesis of the continuity of the germ-plasm gives an identical starting point to each successive generation, and thus explains how it is that an identical prod- uct arises from all of them. In other words, the hypothesis explains heredity as part of the underlying problems of assimilation and of the BIOLOGY 289 causes which act directly during ontogeny; it therefore builds a foun- dation from which the explanation of these phenomena can be attempted. It is true that this theory also meets with difficulties, for it seems to be unable to do justice to a certain class of phenomena, viz., the trans- mission of so-called acquired characters. I therefore gave immediate and special attention to this point in my first publication on heredity, and I believe that I have shown that the hypothesis of the transmission of acquired characters—up to that time generally accepted—is, to say the least, very far from being proved, and that entire classes of facts which have been interpreted under this hypothesis may be quite as well interpreted otherwise, while in many cases they must be explained dif- ferently. I have shown that there is no ascertained fact which, at least up to the present time, remains in irrevocable conflict with the hypothe- sis of the continuity of the germ-plasm; and I do not know any reason why I should modify this opinion to-day, for I have not heard of any objection which appears to be feasible. E. Roth has objected that in pathology we everywhere meet with the fact that acquired local disease may be transmitted to the offspring as a predisposition; but all such cases are exposed to the serious criticism that the very point that first needs to be placed on a secure footing is incapable of proof, viz., the hypothesis that the causes which in each particular case led to the pre- disposition were really acquired. It is not my intention, on the present occasion, to enter fully into the question of acquired characters; I hope to be able to consider the subject in greater detail at a future date. But in the meantime I should wish to point out that we ought, above all, to be clear as to what we really mean by the expression “acquired char- acter.” An organism cannot acquire anything unless it already pos- sesses the predisposition to acquire it: acquired characters are therefore no more than local or sometimes general variations which arise under the stimulus provided by certain external influences. If by the long- continued handling of a rifle, the so-called “Exercierknochen” (a bony growth caused by the pressure of the weapon in drilling) is developed, such a result depends upon the fact that the bone in question, like every other bone, contains within itself a predisposition to react upon certain mechanical stimuli, by growth in a certain direction and to a certain extent. The predisposition towards an “E-rercierknochen” is therefore already present, or else the growth could not be formed; and the same reasoning applies to all other “acquired characters.” Nothing can arise in an organism unless the predisposition to it is pat 290 BIOLOGY pre-existent, for every acquired character is simply the reaction of the organism upon a certain stimulus. Hence I should never have thought of asserting that predispositions cannot be transmitted, as E. Roth appears to believe. For instance, I freely admit that the predisposition to an “E-rercierknochen” varies, and that a strongly marked predisposi- tion may be transmitted from father to son, in the form of bony tissue with a more susceptible constitution. But I should deny that the son could develop an “E-vercierknochen” without having drilled, or that, after having drilled, he could develop it more easily than his father, on account of the drilling through which the latter first acquired it. I believe that this is as impossible as that the leaf of an oak should pro- duce a gall without having been pierced by a gall-producing insect, as . a result of the thousands of antecedent generations of oaks which have been pierced by such insects, and have thus “acquired” the power of pro- ducing galls. Iam also far from asserting that the germ-plasm—which, as I hold, is transmitted as the basis of heredity from one generation to another—is absolutely unchangeable or totally uninfluenced by forces residing in the organism within which it is transformed into germ-cells. I am also compelled to admit that it is conceivable that organisms may exert a modifying influence upon their germ-cells, and even that such a process is to a certain extent inevitable. The nutrition and growth of the individual must exercise some influence upon its germ-cells; but in the first place this influence must be extremely slight, and in the second place it cannot act in the manner in which it is usually assumed that it takes place. A change of growth at the periphery of an organism, as in the case of an “Exercierknochen,” can never cause such a change in the molecular structure of the germ-plasm as would augment the predispo- sition to an “Evercierknochen,’ so that the son would inherit an in- creased susceptibility of the bony tissue or even of the particular bone in question. But any change produced will result from the reaction of the germ-cell upon changes of nutrition caused by alteration in growth at the periphery, leading to some change in the size, number, or arrangement of its molecular units. In the present state of our knowl- edge there is reason for doubting whether such reaction can occur at all; but, if it can take place, at all events the quality of the change in the germ-plasm can have nothing to do with the quality of the acquired character, but only with the way in which the general nutrition is influ- enced by the latter. In the case of the “Exercierknochen” there would be practically no change in the general nutrition, but if such a bony BIOLOGY 291 growth could reach the size of a carcinoma, it is conceivable that a dis- turbance of the general nutrition of the body might ensue. Certain experiments on plants—on which Nigeli showed that they can be sub- mitted to strongly varied conditions of nutrition for several generations, without the production of any visible hereditary change—show that the influence of nutrition upon the germ-cells must be very slight, and that it may possibly leave the molecular structure of the germ-plasm alto- gether untouched. This conclusion is also supported by comparing the uncertainty of these results with the remarkable precision with which heredity acts in the case of those characters which are known to be transmitted. In fact, up to the present time, it has never been proved that any changes in general nutrition can modify the molecular struc- ture of the germ-plasm, and far less has it been rendered by any means probable that the germ-cells can be affected by acquired changes which have no influence on general nutrition. If we consider that each so- called predisposition (that is, a power of reacting upon a certain stim- ulus in a certain way, possessed by any organism or by one of its parts) must be innate, and further that each acquired character is only the pre- disposed reaction of some part of an organism upon some external influ- ence ; then we must admit that only one of the causes which produce any acquired character can be transmitted, the one which was present before the character itself appeared, viz., the predisposition; and we must fur- ther admit that the latter arises from the germ, and that it is quite imma- terial to the following generation whether such predisposition comes into operation or not. The continuity of the germ-plasm is amply suffi- cient to account for such a phenomenon, and I do not believe that any objection to my hypothesis, founded upon the actually observed phe- nomena of heredity, will be found to hold. If it be accepted, many facts will appear in a light different from that which has been cast upon them by the hypothesis which has been hitherto received,—a hypothesis which assumes that the organism produces germ-cells afresh, again and again, and that it produces them entirely from its own substance. Under the former theory the germ-cells are no longer looked upon as the product of the parent’s body, at least as far as their essential part—the specific germ-plasm—is concerned: they are rather considered as something which is to be placed in contrast with the tout ensemble of the cells which make up the parent’s body, and the germ-cells of succeeding generations stand in a similar relation to one another as a series of generations of unicellular organisms, arising by a continued process of cell-division. It 292 BIOLOGY is true that in most cases the generations of germ-cells do not arise immediately from one another as complete cells, but only as minute particles of germ-plasm. This latter substance, however, forms the foundation of the germ-cells of the next generation, and stamps them with their specific character. Previous to the publication of my theory, C. Jager, and later M. Nussbaum, have expressed ideas upon heredity which come very near to my own. Both of these writers started with the hypothesis that there must be a direct connection between the germ-cells of succeeding generations, and they tried to establish such a continuity by supposing that the germ-cells of the offspring are sep- arated from the parent germ-cell before the beginning of embryonic development, or at least before any histological differentiation has taken place. In this form their suggestion cannot be maintained, for it is in conflict with numerous facts. A continuity of the germ-cells does not now take place, except in very rare instances; but this fact does not pre- vent us from adopting a theory of the continuity of the germ-plasm, in favour of which much weighty evidence can be brought forward. In the following pages I shall attempt to develop further the theory of which I have just given a short account, to defend it against any objec- tions which have been brought forward, and to draw from it new con- clusions which may perhaps enable us more thoroughly to appreciate facts which are known, but imperfectly understood. It seems to me that this theory of the continuity of the germ-plasm deserves at least to be examined in all its details, for it is the simplest theory upon the sub- ject, and the one which is most obviously suggested by the facts of the case, and we shall not be justified in forsaking it for a more complex theory until proof that it can be no longer maintained is forthcoming. It does not presuppose anything except facts which can be observed at any moment, although they may not be understood,—such as assimila- tion, or the development of like organisms from like germs; while every other theory of heredity is founded on hypotheses which cannot be proved. It is nevertheless possible that continuity of the germ-plasm does not exist in the manner in which I imagine that it takes place, for no one can at present decide whether all the ascertained facts agree with and can be explained by it. Moreover, the ceaseless activity of research brings to light new facts every day, and I am far from maintaining that my. theory may not be disproved by some of these. But even if it should have to be abandoned at a later period, it seems to me that, at the present time, it is a necessary stage in the advancement of our knowledge, and BIOLOGY 293 one which must be brought forward and passed through, whether it prove right or wrong, in the future. In this spirit I offer the following considerations, and it is in this spirit that I should wish them to be received. I. Tue GERM-PLASM I entirely agree with Strasburger when he says, “The specific quali- ties of organisms are based upon nuclei;” and I further agree with him in many of his ideas as to the relation between the nucleus and cell- body: “Molecular stimuli proceed from the nucleus into the surround- ing cytoplasm ; stimuli which, on the one hand, control the phenomena of assimilation in the cell, and, on the other hand, give to the growth of the cytoplasm, which depends upon nutrition, a certain character pecu- liar to:the species.” “The nutritive cytoplasm assimilates, while the nucleus controls the assimilation, and hence the substances assimilated possess a certain constitution and nourish in a certain manner the cyto- idioplasm and the nuclear idioplasm. In this way the cytoplasm takes part in the phenomena of construction, upon which the specific form of the organism depends. This constructive activity of the cyto-idioplasm depends upon the regulative influence of the nuclei.” The nuclei there- fore ‘determine the specific direction in which an organism develops.” The opinion—derived from the recent study of the phenomena of - fertilization—that the nucleus impresses its specific character upon the cell, has received conclusive and important confirmation in the experi- ments upon the regeneration of Infusoria, conducted simultaneously by -M. Nussbaum at Bonn, and by A. Gruber at Freiburg. Nussbaum’s statement that an artificially separated portion of a Paramaecium, which does not contain any nuclear substance, immediately dies, must not be accepted as of general application, for Gruber has kept similar fragments of other Infusoria alive for several days. Moreover, Gruber had previously shown that individual Protozoa occur, which live in a normal manner, and are yet without a nucleus, although this structure is present in other individuals of the same species. But the meaning of the nucleus is made clear by the fact, published by Gruber, that such artificially separated fragments of Infusoria are incapable of regenera- tion, while on the other hand those fragments which contain nuclei always regenerate. It is therefore only under the influence of the nucleus that the cell substance re-develops into the full type of the species. In adopting the view that the nucleus is the factor which deter- 294 BIOLOGY mines the specific nature of the cell, we stand on a firm foundation upon which we can build with security. If therefore the first segmentation nucleus contains, in its molecu- lar structure, the whole of the inherited tendencies of development, it must follow that during segmentation and subsequent cell-division, the nucleoplasm will enter upon definite and varied changes which must cause the differences appearing in the cells which are produced; for iden- tical cell-bodies depend, ceteris paribus, upon identical nucleoplasm, and conversely different cells depend upon differences in the nucleoplasm. The fact that the embryo grows more strongly in one direction than in another, that its cell-layers are of different nature and are ultimately differentiated into various organs and tissues,—forces us to accept the conclusion that the nuclear substance has also been changed in nature, and that such changes take place during ontogenetic development in a regular and definite manner. This view is also held by Strasburger, and it must be the opinion of all who seek to derive the development of inher- ited tendencies from the molecular structure of the germ-plasm, instead of from preformed gemmules. Weare thus led to the important question as to the forces by which the determining substance or nucleoplasm is changed, and as to the man- ner in which it changes during the course of ontogeny, and on the answer to this question our further conclusions must depend. The simplest hypothesis would be to suppose that, at each division of the nucleus, its specific substance divides into two halves of unequal quality, so that the cell-bodies would also be transformed; for we have seen that the character of a cell is determined by that of its nucleus. Thus in any Metazoon the first two segmentation spheres would be trans- formed in such a manner that one only contained the hereditary ten- dencies of the endoderm and the other those of the ectoderm, and therefore, at a later stage, the cells of the endoderm would arise from the one and those of the ectoderm from the other; and this is actually known to occur. In the course of further division the nucleoplasm of the first ectoderm cell would again divide unequally, e. g., into the nucleoplasm containing the hereditary tendencies of the nervous system, and into that containing the tendencies of the external skin. But even then, the end of the unequal division of nuclei would not have been nearly reached; for, in the formation of the nervous system, the nuclear substance which contains the hereditary tendencies of the sense-organs would, in the course of further cell-division, be separated from that BIOLOGY 295 which contains the tendencies of the central organs, and the same pro- cess would continue in the formation of all single organs, and in the final development of the most minute histological elements. This pro- cess would take place in a definitely ordered course, exactly as it has taken place throughout a very long series of ancestors; and the deter- mining and directing factor is simply and solely the nuclear substance, the nucleoplasm, which possesses such a molecular structure in the germ-cell that all such succeeding stages of its molecular structure in future nuclei must necessarily arise from it, as soon as the requisite external conditions are present. This is almost the same conception of ontogenetic development as that which has been held by embryologists who have not accepted the doctrine of evolution: for we have only to transfer the primary cause of development, from an unknown source within the organism, into the nuclear substance, in order to make the views identical. I believe I have shown that theoretically hardly any objections can be raised against the view that the nuclear substance of somatic cells may contain unchanged germ-plasm, or that this germ-plasm may be transmitted along certain lines. It is true that we might imagine a priori that all somatic nuclei contain a small amount of unchanged germ- plasm. In Hydroids such an assumption cannot be made, because only certain cells in a certain succession possess the power of developing into germ-cells; but it might well be imagined that in some organisms it would be a great advantage if every part possessed the power of grow- ing up into the whole organism and of producing sexual cells under appropriate circumstances. Such cases might exist if it were possible for all somatic nuclei to contain a minute fraction of unchanged germ- plasm. For this reason, Strasburger’s other objection against my theory also fails to hold; viz., that certain plants can be propagated by pieces of rhizomes, roots, or even by means of leaves, and that plants produced in this manner may finally give rise to flowers, fruit and seeds, from which new plants arise. “It is easy to grow new plants from the leaves of begonia which have been cut off and merely laid upon moist sand, and yet in the normal course of ontogeny the molecules of germ-plasm — would not have been compelled to pass through the leaf; and they ought therefore to be absent from its tissue. Since it is possible to raise from the leaf a plant which produces flower and fruit, it is perfectly certain that special cells containing the germ substance cannot exist in the 296 BIOLOGY plant.” But I think that this fact only proves that in begonia and simi- lar plants all the cells of the leaves or perhaps only certain cells contain a small amount of germ-plasm, and that consequently these plants are specially adapted for propagation by leaves. How is it then that all plants cannot be reproduced in this way? No one has ever grown a tree from the leaf of the lime or oak, or a flowering plant from the leaf of the tulip or convolvulus. It is insufficient to reply that in the last men- tioned cases the leaves are more strongly specialized, and have thus become unable to produce germ-substance; for the leaf-cells in these different plants have hardly undergone histological differentiation in different degrees. If, notwithstanding, the one can produce a flower- ing plant, while the others have not this power, it is of course clear that. reasons other than the degree of histological differentiation must exist; and, according to my opinion, such a reason is to be found in the admix- ture of a minute quantity of unchanged germ-plasm with some of their nuclei. | In. Sach’s excellent lectures on the physiology of plants, we read on page 723—‘In the true mosses almost any cell of the roots, leaves and shoot-axes, and even of the immature sporogonium, may grow out under favourable conditions, become rooted, form new shoots, and give rise to: an independent living plant.” Since such plants produce germ-cells at a later period, we have here a case which requires the assumption that all or nearly all cells must contain germ-plasm. The theory of the continuity of the germ-plasm seems to me to be still less disproved or even rendered improbable by the facts of the alternation of generations. If the germ-plasm may pass on from the egg into certain somatic cells of an individual, and if it can be further trans- mitted along certain lines, there is no difficulty in supposing that it may be transmitted through a second, third, or through any number of indi- viduals produced from the former by budding. In fact, in the Hydroids, on which my theory of the continuity of the germ-plasm has been chiefly based, alternation of generations is the most important means of propa- gation. Il. Tue SIGNIFICANCE OF THE POLAR BODIES We have already seen that the specific nature of a cell depends upon the molecular structure of its nucleus; and it follows from this conclu- sion that my theory is further, and as I believe strongly, supported, by the phenomenon of the expulsion of polar bodies, which has remained inexplicable for so long a time. BIOLOGY 297 For if the specific molecular structure of a cell-body is caused and determined by the structure of the nucleoplasm, every kind of cell which is histologically differentiated must have a specific nucleoplasm. But the egg-cell of most animals, at any rate during the period of growth, is by no means an indifferent cell of the most primitive type. At such a period its cell-body has to perform quite peculiar and specific functions ; it has to secrete nutritive substances of a certain chemical nature and physical constitution, and to store up this food material in such a manner that it may be at the disposal of the embryo during its development. In most cases the egg-cell also forms membranes which are often charac- teristic of particular species of animals. The growing egg-cell is there- fore histologically differentiated : and in this respect resembles a somatic cell. It may perhaps be compared to a gland-cell, which does not expel its secretion, but deposits it within its own substance. To perform such specific functions it requires a specific cell-body, and the latter depends upon a specific nucleus. It therefore follows that the growing egg-cell must possess nucleoplasm of specific molecular structure, which directs the above mentioned secretory functions of the cell. The. nucleoplasm of histologically differentiated cells may be called histogenetic nucleo- plasm, and the growing egg-cell must contain such a substance, and even a certain specific modification of it. This nucleoplasm cannot possibly be the same as that which, at a later period, causes embryonic develop- ment. Such development can only be produced by true germ-plasm of immensely complex constitution, such as I have previously attempted to describe. It therefore follows that the nucleus of the egg-cell contains two kind of nucleoplasm :—germ-plasm and a peculiar modification of histogenetic nucleoplasm, which may be called ovogenetic nucleoplasm. This substance must greatly preponderate in the young egg-cell, for, as we have already seen, it controls the growth of the latter. The germ- plasm, on the other hand, can only be present in minute quantity at first, but it must undergo considerable increase during the growth of the cell. But in order that the germ-plasm may control the cell-body, or, in other words, in order that embryonic development may begin, the still pre- ponderating ovogenetic nucleoplasm must be removed from the cell. This removal takes place in the same manner as that in which differing nuclear substances are separated during the ontogeny of the embryo: viz., by nuclear division, leading to cell-division. The expulsion of the polar bodies is nothing more than the removal of ovogenetic nucleo- plasm from the egg-cell. That the ovogenetic nucleoplasm continues to 298 BIOLOGY greatly preponderate in the nucleus up to the very last, may be concluded from the fact that two successive divisions of the latter and the expul- sion of two polar bodies appear to be the rule. If in this way a small part of the cell-body is expelled from the egg, the extrusion must in all probability be considered as an inevitable loss, without which the removal of the ovogenetic neucloplasm cannot be effected. III. On THE NATURE OF PARTHENOGENESIS It is well known that the formation of polar bodies has been repeat- edly connected with the sexuality of germ-cells, and that it has been employed to explain the phenomena of parthenogenesis. I may now perhaps be allowed to develop the views as to the nature of partheno- genesis at which I have arrived under the influence of my explanation of polar bodies. The theory of parthenogenesis adopted by Minot and Balfour is distinguished by its simplicity and clearness, among all other interpre- tations which had been hitherto offered. Indeed, their explanation fol- lows naturally and almost as a matter of course, if the assumption made by these observers be correct, that the polar body is the male part of the hermaphrodite egg-cell. An egg which has lost its male part cannot develop into an embryo until it has received a new male part in fertiliza- tion. On the other hand, an egg which does not expel its male part may develop without fertilization, and thus we are led to the obvious con- clusion that parthenogenesis is based upon the non-expulsion of polar bodies. Balfour distinctly states “that the function of forming polar cells has been acquired by the ovum for the express purpose of prevent- ing parthenogenesis.” It is obvious that I cannot share this opinion, for I regard the expulsion of polar bodies as merely the removal of the ovogenetic nucleoplasm, on which depended the development of the specific histo- logical structure of the egg-cell. I must assume that the phenomena of maturation in the parthenogenetic egg and in the sexual egg are pre- cisely identical, and that in both, the ovogenetic nucleoplasm must in some way be removed before embryonic development can begin. Unfortunately the actual proof of this assumption is not so com- plete as might be desired. In the first place, we are as yet uncertain whether polar bodies are or are not expelled by parthenogenetic eggs; for in no single instance has such expulsion been established beyond doubt. It is true that this deficiency does not afford any support to the BIOLOGY 299 explanation of Minot and Balfour, for in all cases in which polar bodies have not been found in parthenogenetic eggs, these structures are also absent from the eggs which require fertilization in the same species. But although the expulsion of polar bodies in parthenogenesis has not yet been proved to occur, we must assume it to be nearly certain that the phenomena of maturation, whether connected or unconnected with the expulsion of polar bodies, are the same in the eggs which develop parthenogenetically and in those which are capable of fertilization, in one and the same species. This conclusion depends, above all, upon the phenomena of reproduction in bees, in which, as a matter of fact, the same egg may be fertilized or may develop parthenogenetically, as I shall have occasion to describe in greater detail at a later period. Hence when we see that the eggs of many animals are capable of de- veloping. without fertilization, while in other animals such development is impossible, the difference between the two kinds of eggs must rest upon something. more than the mode of transformation of the nucleus of the germ-cell into the first segmentation nucleus. There are, indeed, facts which distinctly point to the conclusion that the difference is based upon quantitative and not qualitative relations. A large number of insects are exceptionally reproduced by the parthenogenetic method, e. g., in Lepidoptera. Such development does not take place in all the eggs laid by an unfertilized female, but only in part, and generally a small frac- tion of the whole, while the rest die. But among the latter there are some which enter upon embryonic development without being able to complete it, and the stage at which development may cease also varies. Ti is also known that the eggs of higher animals may pass through the first stages of segmentation without having been fertilized. This was shown to be the case in the egg of the frog by Leuckart, in that of the fowl by Oellacher, and even in the egg of mammals by Hensen. Hence in such cases it is not the impulse to development, but the power to complete it, which is absent. We know that force is always bound up with matter, and it seems to me that such instances are best explained by the supposition that too small an amount of that form of matter is present, which, by its controlling agency, effects the building up of the embryo by the transformation of mere nutritive material. This substance is the germ-plasm of the segmentation nucleus, and I have assumed above that it is altered in the course of ontogeny by changes which arise from within, so that when sufficient nourishment is afforded by the cell-body, each succeeding stage necessarily results from the pre- 300 BIOLOGY ceding one. I believe that changes arise in the constitution of the nucleoplasm at each cell-division which takes place during the building up of the embryo, changes which either correspond or differ in the two halves of each nucleus. If, for the present, we neglect the minute amount of unchanged germ-plasm which is reserved for the formation of the germ-cells, it is clear that a great many different stages in the development of somatic nucleoplasm are thus formed, which may be denominated as stages 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., up to m. In each of these stages the cells differ more as development proceeds, and as the number by which the stage is denominated becomes higher. Thus, for instance, the two first segmentation spheres would represent the first stage of somatic nucleoplasm, a stage which may be considered as but slightly different in its molecular structure from the nucleoplasm of the segmentation nucleus ; the first four segmentation spheres would represent the second stage; the succeeding eight spheres the third, and so on. It is clear that at each successive stage the molecular structure of the nucleoplasm must be further removed from that of the germ-plasm, and that, at the same time, the cells of each successive stage must also diverge more widely among themselves in the molecular structure of their nucleo- plasm. Early in development each cell must possess its own peculiar nucleoplasm, for the further course of development is peculiar to each cell. It is only in the later stages that equivalent or nearly equivalent cells are formed in large numbers, cells in which we must also suppose the existence of equivalent nucleoplasm. If we may assume that a certain amount of germ-plasm must be contained in the segmentation nucleus in order to complete the whole process of the ontogenetic differentiation of this substance; if we may further assume that the quantity of germ-plasm in the segmentation nucleus varies in different cases; then we should be able to understand why one egg can only develop after fertilization, while another can begin its development without fertilization, but cannot finish it, and why a third is even able to complete its development. We should also under- stand why one egg only passes through the first stages of segmentation and is then arrested, while another reaches a few more stages in advance, and a third develops so far that the embryo is nearly com- pletely formed. These differences would depend upon the extent to which the germ-plasm, originally present in the egg, was sufficient for the development of the latter; development will be arrested as soon as the nucleoplasm is no longer capable of producing the succeeding stage, and is thus unable to enter upon the following nuclear division. BIOLOGY 301 From a general point of view such a theory would explain many difficulties, and it would render possible an explanation of the phyletic origin of parthenogenesis, and an adequate understanding of the strange and often apparently abrupt and arbitrary manner of its occurrence. In my works on Daphnidae I have already laid especial stress upon the proposition that parthenogenesis in insects and Crustacea certainly can- not be an ancestral condition which has been transmitted by heredity, but that it has been derived from a sexual condition. In what other way can we explain the fact that parthenogenesis is present in certain species or genera, but absent in others closely allied to them; or the fact that males are entirely wanting in species of which the females possess a complete apparatus for fertilization? I will not repeat all the argu- ments with which I attempted to support this conclusion. Such a con- clusion may be almost certainly accepted for the Daphnidae, because parthenogenesis does not occur in their still living ancestors, the Phy]l- lopods, and especially the Estheridae. In Daphnidae the cause and object of the phyletic development of parthenogenesis may be traced more clearly than in any other group of animals. In Daphnidae we can accept the conclusion with greater certainty than in all other groups, except perhaps the Aphidae, that parthenogenesis is extremely advan- tageous to species in certain conditions of life; and that it has only been adopted when, and as far as, it has been beneficial; and further, that at least in this group parthenogenesis became possible and was adopted in each species as soon as it became useful. Such a result can be easily understood if it is only the presence of more or less germ-plasm which decides whether an egg is or is not capable of development without fertilization. If we now examine the foundations of this hypothesis we shall find that we may at once accept one of its assumptions, viz., that fluctuations occur in the quantity of germ-plasm in the segmentation nucleus; for there can never be absolute equality in any single part of different indi- viduals. As soon therefore as these fluctuations become so great that parthenogenesis is produced, it may become, by the operation of natural selection, the chief mode of reproduction of the species or of certain generations of the species. In order to place this theory upon a firm basis, we have simply to decide whether the quantity of germ-plasm contained in the segmentation nucleus is the factor which determines development; although for the present it will be sufficient if we can render this view to some extent probable, and show that it is not in con- tradiction with established facts. 302 BIOLOGY ' At first sight this hypothesis seems to encounter serious difficulties. It will be objected that neither the beginning nor the end of embryonic development can possibly depend upon the quantity of nucleoplasm in the segmentation nucleus, since the amount may be continually increased by growth; for it is well known that during embryonic development the nuclear substance increases with astonishing rapidity. By an approx- imate calculation I found that in the egg of a Cynips the quantity of nuclear substance present at the time when the blastoderm was about to be formed, and when there were twenty-six nuclei, was even then seven times as great as the quantity which had been contained in the seg- mentation nucleus. How then can we imagine that embryonic develop- ment would ever be arrested from want of nuclear substance, and if such deficiency really acted as an arresting force, how then could devel- opment begin at all? We might suppose that when germ-plasm is pres- ent in sufficient quantity to start segmentation, it must also be sufficient to complete the development; for it grows continuously, and must pre- sumably always possess a power equal to that which it possessed at the beginning, and which was just sufficient to start the process of seg- mentation. If at each ontogenetic stage the quantity of nucleoplasm is just sufficient to produce the following stage, we might well imagine that the whole ontogeny would necessarily be completed. The flaw in this argument lies in the erroneous assumption that the growth of nuclear substance is, when the quality of the nucleus and the conditions of nutrition are equal, unlimited and uncontrolled. The intensity of growth must depend upon the quantity of nuclear substance with which growth and the phenomena of segmentation commenced. There must be an optimum quantity of nucleoplasm with which the erowth of the nucleus proceeds most favourably and rapidly, and this optimum will be represented in the normal size of the segmentation nucleus. Such a size is just sufficient to produce, in a certain time and under certain external conditions, the nuclear substance necessary for the construction of the embryo, and to start the long series of cell- divisions. When the segmentation nucleus is smaller, but large enough to enter upon segmentation, the nuclei of the two first embryonic cells will fall rather more below the normal size, because the growth of the segmentation nucleus, during and after division will be less rapid on account of its unusually small size. The succeeding generations of nuclei will depart more and more from the normal size in each respective stage, because they do not pass into a resting stage during embryonic BIOLOGY 303 development, but divide again immediately after their formation. Hence nuclear growth would become less vigorous as the nuclei fell more and more below the optimum size, and at last a moment would arrive when they would be unable to divide, or would be at least unable to control the cell-body in such a manner as to lead to its division. The first event of importance for embryonic development is the maturation of the egg, 1. e., the transformation of the nucleus of the germ-cell into a nuclear spindle and the removal of the ovogenetic nucleoplasm by the separation of polar bodies, or by some analogous process. There must be some cause for this separation, and I have already tried to show that it may lie in the quantitative relations which obtain between the two kinds of nucleoplasm contained in the nucleus of the egg. I have suggested that the germ-plasm, at first small in quantity, undergoes a gradual increase, so that it can finally oppose the ovogenetic nucleoplasm. I will not further elaborate this suggestion, for the ascertained facts are insufficient for the purpose. But the appearances witnessed in nuclear division indicate that there are oppos- ing forces, and that such a contest is the motive cause of division; and Roux may be right in referring the opposition to electrical forces. How- ever this may be, it is perfectly certain that the development of this opposition is based upon internal conditions arising during growth in the nucleus itself. The quantity of nuclear thread cannot by itself _ determine whether the nucleus can or cannot enter upon division; if so, it would be impossible for two divisions to follow each other in rapid succession, as is actually the case in the separation of the two polar bodies, and also in their subsequent division. In addition to the effects of quantity, the internal conditions of the nucleus must also play an important part in these phenomena. Quantity alone does not neces- sarily produce nuclear division, or the nucleus of the egg would divide long before maturation is complete, for it contains much more nucleo- plasm than the female pronucleus, which remains in the egg after the expulsion of the polar bodies, and which is in most cases incapable of further division. But the fact that segmentation begins immediately after the conjugation of male and female pronuclei, also shows that quantity is an essential requisite. The effect of fertilization has been represented as analogous to that of the spark which kindles the gun- powder. In the latter case an explosion ensues, in the former segmen- tation begins. Even now many authorities are inclined to refer the polar repulsion manifested in the nuclear division which immediately follows 304 BIOLOGY fertilization, to the antagonism between male and female elements. But, according to the important discoveries of Flemming and van Beneden, the polar repulsion in each nuclear division is not based on the antag- onism between male and female loops, but depends upon the antagonism and mutual repulsion between the two halves of the same loop. The loops of the father and those of the mother remain together and divide together throughout the whole ontogeny. What can be the explanation of the fact that nuclear division fol- lows immediately after fertilization, but that without fertilization it does not occur in most cases? There is only one possible explanation, viz., the fact that the quantity of the nucleus has been suddenly doubled, as the result of conjugation. The difference between the male and female pronuclei cannot serve as an explanation, even though the nature of this difference is entirely unknown, because polar repulsion is not developed between the male and female halves of the nucleus, but within each male and each female half. We are thus forced to conclude that increase in the quantity of the nucleus affords an impulse for division, the dis- position towards it being already present. It seems to me that this view does not encounter any theoretical difficulties, and that it is an entirely feasible hypothesis to suppose that, besides the internal conditions of the nucleus, its quantitative relation to the cell-body must be taken into especial account. It is imaginable, or perhaps even probable, that the nucleus enters upon division as soon as its idioplasm has attained a cer- tain strength, quite apart from the supposition that certain internal con- ditions are necessary for this end. As above stated, such conditions may be present, but division may not occur because the right quanti- tative relation between nucleus and cell-body, or between the different kinds of nuclear idioplasm has not been established. I imagine that such a quantitative deficiency exists in an egg which, after the expulsion of the ovogenetic nucleoplasm in the polar bodies, requires fertilization in order to begin segmentation. The fact that the polar bodies were expelled proves that the quantity of the nucleus was sufficient to cause division, while afterwards it was no longer sufficient to produce such a result. This suggestion will be made still clearer by an example. In Ascaris megalocephala the nuclear substance of the female pronucleus forms two loops, and the male pronucleus does the same; hence the seg- mentation nucleus contains four loops, and this is also the case with the first segmentation spheres. If we suppose that in embryonic develop- BIOLOGY 305 ment the first nuclear division requires such an amount of nuclear sub- stance as is necessary for the formation of four loops,—it follows that an egg, which can only form two or three loops from its nuclear reticu- lum, would not be able to develop parthenogenetically, and that not even the first division would take place. If we further suppose that, while four loops are sufficient to start nuclear division, these loops must be of a certain size and quantity in order to complete the whole ontogeny (in a certain species), it follows that eggs possessing a reticulum which contains barely enough nuclear substance to divide into four segments, ‘would be able to produce the first division and perhaps also the second and third, or some later division, but that at a certain point during ontogeny, the nuclear substance would become insufficient, and devel- opment would be arrested. This will occur in eggs which enter upon development without fertilization, but are arrested before its completion. One might compare this retardation leading to the final arrest of devel- opment, to a railway train which is intended to meet a number of other trains at various junctions, and which can only travel slowly because of some defect in the engine. It will be a little behind time at the first junction, but it may just catch the train, and it may also catch the second or even the third ; but it will be later at each successive junction, and will finally arrive too late for a certain train; and after that it will miss all the trains at the remaining junctions. The nuclear substance grows continuously during development, but the rate at which it in- creases depends upon the nutritive conditions together with its initial quantity. The nutritive changes during the development of an egg depend upon the quantity of the cell-body which was present at the out- set, and which cannot be increased. If the quantity of the nuclear sub- stance is rather too small at the beginning, it will become more and more insufficient in succeeding stages, as its growth becomes less vigorous, and differs more from the standard it would have reached if the original quantity had been normal. Consequently it will gradually fall more and more short of the normal quantity, like the train which arrives later and later at each successive junction, because its engine, although with the full pressure of steam, is unable to attain the normal speed. It will be objected that four loops cannot be necessary for nuclear division in Ascaris, since such division takes place in the formation of the polar bodies, resulting in the appearance of the female pronucleus with only two loops. But this fact only shows that the quantity of nuclear substance necessary for the formation of four loops is not neces- X. 20, 306 BIOLOGY sary for all nuclear divisions; it does not disprove the assumption that such a quantity is required for the division of the segmentation nucleus. In addition to these considerations we must not leave the substance of the cell-body altogether out of account, for, although it is not the bearer of the tendencies of heredity, it must be necessary for every change undergone by the nucleus, and it surely also possesses the power of influencing changes to a large extent. There must be some reason for the fact that in all animal eggs with which we are acquainted, the nucleus moves to the surface of the egg at the time of maturation, and there passes through its well known transformation. It is obvious that it is there subjected to different influences from those which would have acted upon it in the center of the cell-body, and it is clear that such an unequal cell-division as takes place in the separation of the polar bodies could not occur if the nucleus remained in the center of the egg. This explanation of the necessity for fertilization does not exclude the possibility that, under certain circumstances, the substance of the egg-nucleus may be larger, so that it is capable of forming four loops. Eggs which thus possess sufficient nucleoplasm, viz., germ-plasm, for the formation of the requisite four loops of normal size (namely, of the size which would have been produced by fertilization), can and must develop by the parthenogenetic method. Of course the assumption that four loops must be formed has only been made for the sake of illustration. We do not yet know whether there are always exactly four loops in the segmentation nucleus. I may add that, although the details by which these considerations are illus- trated are based on arbitrary assumptions, the fundamental view that the development of the egg depends, ceteris paribus, upon the quantity of nuclear substance, is certainly right, and follows as a necessary con- clusion from the ascertained facts. It is not unlikely that such a view may receive direct proof in the results of future investigations. Such proof might, for instance, be forthcoming if we were to ascertain, in the same species, the number of loops present in the segmentation nucleus of fertilization, as compared with those present in the segmentation nucleus of parthenogenesis. The reproductive process in bees will perhaps be used as an argu- ment against my theory. In these insects the same egg will develop into a female or male individual, according as fertilization has or has not taken place, respectively. Hence one and the same egg is capable of fertilization, and also of parthenogenetic development, if if it does BIOLOGY 307 not receive a spermatozoon. It is in the power of the queen-bee to pro- duce male or female individuals: by an act of will she decides whether the egg she is laying is to be fertilized or unfertilized. She “knows beforehand” whether an egg will develop into a male or a female ani- mal, and deposits the latter kind in the cells of queens and workers, the former in the cells of drones. It has been shown by the discoveries of Leuckart and von Siebold that all the eggs are capable of developing into male individuals, and that they are only transformed into “female eggs” by. fertilization. This fact seems to be incompatible with my theory as to the cause of parthenogenesis, for if the same egg, possessing exactly the same contents, and above all the same segmentation nucleus, may develop sexually or parthenogenetically, it appears that the power of parthenogenetic development must depend on some factor other than the quantity of germ-plasm. Although this appears to be the case, I believe that my theory en- counters no real difficulty. I have no doubt whatever that the same egg may develop with or without fertilization. From a careful study of the numerous excellent investigations upon this point which have been con- ducted in a particularly striking manner by Bessels (in addition to the observers quoted above), I have come to the conclusion that the fact is absolutely certain. It must be candidly admitted that the same egg will develop into a drone when not fertilized, or into a worker or queen when fertilized. One of Bessels’ experiments is sufficient to prove this assertion. He cut off the wings of a young queen and thus rendered her incapable of taking “the nuptial flight.” He then observed that all the eggs which she laid developed into male individuals. This experiment was made in order to prove that drones are produced by unfertilized eggs; but it also proves that the assertion mentioned above is correct, for the eggs which ripen first and are therefore first laid, would have been fertilized had the queen been impregnated. The supposition that, at certain times, the queen produces eggs requiring fertilization, while at other times her eggs develop parthenogenetically, is quite excluded by this experiment; for it follows from it that the eggs must all be of precisely the same kind, and that there is no difference between the eggs which require fertilization and those which do not. But does it therefore follow that the quantity of germ-plasm in the segmentation nucleus is not the factor which determines the beginning of embryonic development? I believe not. It can be very well imag- ined that the nucleus of the egg, having expelled the ovogenetic nucleo- 308 BIOLOGY plasm, may be increased to the size requisite for the segmentation nucleus in one of two ways: either by conjugation with a sperm-nucleus, or by simply growing to double its size. There is nothing improbable in this latter assumption, and one is even inclined to inquire why such growth does not take place in all unfertilized eggs. The true answer to this question must be that nature pursues the sexual method of repro- duction, and that the only way in which the general occurrence of par- thenogenesis could be prevented was by the production of eggs which remained sterile unless they were fertilized. This was effected by a loss of the capability of growth on the part of the egg-nucleus after it had expelled the ovogenetic nucleoplasm. The case of the bee proves in a very striking manner that the dif- ference between eggs which require fertilization, and those which do not, is not produced until after the maturation of the egg and the removal of the ovogenetic nucleoplasm. The increase in the quantity of the germ-plasm cannot have taken place at any earlier period, or else the nucleus of the egg would always start embryonic development by itself, and the egg would probably be incapable of fertilization. For the relation between egg-nucleus and sperm-nucleus is obviously based upon the fact that each of them is insufficient by itself, and requires completion. If such completion had taken place at an early stage the egg-nucleus would either cease to exercise any attractive force upon the sperm-nucleus, or else conjugation would be effected, as in Fol’s inter- esting experiments upon fertilization by many spermatozoa; and, as in these experiments, malformation of the embryo would result. In Daphnidae I believe I have shown that the summer eggs are not only developed parthenogenetically, but also that they are never fertilized; and the explanation of this incapacity for fertilization may perhaps be found in the fact that their segmentation nucleus is already formed. We may therefore conclude that, in bees, the nucleus of the egg, formed during maturation, may either conjugate with the sperm- nucleus, or else if no spermatozoon reaches the egg may, under the stimulus of internal causes, grow to double its size, thus attaining the dimensions of the segmentation nucleus. For our present purpose we may leave out of consideration the fact that in the latter case the indi- vidual produced is a male, and in the former case a female. ROBERT KOCH Rosert Kocu was born at Klausthal, Hanover, Germany, Dec. 11, 1843, and graduated from the University of Gottingen in 1866. He was assistant surgeon to the General Hospital at Hamburg for a time and afterwards practiced medicine at Langenhagen, Kackwitz, and Wol- lenstein, where he lived from 1872 to 1880. It was here that he began his researches in bacteriology. His investigations on the ztiology of an- thrax, published in 1876, and his important study of the etiology of anthrax published in 1878 placed bacteriology on a scientific basis. In 1880 Dr. Koch went to Berlin to accept a position as chief of the San- itary Institute of Berlin; here he carried on his studies of the contagia of consumption and cholera. Koch claims that each disease is caused by a specific micro-organism. In 1882 he announced his discovery of the tubercle bacillus. In order to reach his conclusions he invented new microscopical appliances, and new methods of staining specimens in . order to make those micro-organisms visible, thus making a very im- portant advance in microscopy. In 1883 Dr. Koch published a method of preventive inoculation against anthrax. In the same year the German Government sent him to Egypt and India to investigate cholera, where -he discovered the cholera bacillus. On his return to Germany in 1884 he was generously rewarded by the Government. He went to France as cholera commissioner early in 1885 and later was appointed Professor of the Medical Faculty of the University of Berlin, Director of the Prussian Board of Health, and Director of the Hygienic Institute of Berlin. He published a paper on the prophylaxis of infectious diseases in the army in 1888. In 1890 he announced the discovery of the bacillus of consumption. In 1896 he visited South Africa to study the cattle plague. In 1901 Dr. Koch attended the British Congress on Tuberculosis held in Lon- don and presided over by Lord Lister, where he read an address on “The Combating of Tuberculosis in the Light of the Experience Gained in the Successful Combating of Other Infectious Diseases.” He pro- duced what was held by the Congress to be satisfactory evidence that 310 BIOLOGY human tuberculosis was not transmissible to animals; but there was some hesitation in accepting his conclusion that bovine tuberculosis could not be transmitted to the human subject by infected meat, milk, etc. THEORY OF BACTERIA I am well aware that the investigations above described are very imperfect. It was necessary, in order to have time for those parts of the investigation which seemed the most important and essential, to omit the examination of many organs, such as the brain, heart, retina, etc., which ought not to pass unnoticed in researches on infective diseases. For the same reason no record was kept of the temperature, although this would undoubtedly have yielded most interesting results. I have intentionally refrained from entering into details of morbid anatomy, as only the etiology interested me, and as I did not feel qualified to under- take a study of the morbid anatomy of traumatic infective diseases. I must therefore leave this part of the investigation to those who are better able to undertake it. Nevertheless I consider that the results of my researches are suffi- ciently definite to enable me to deduce from them some well founded conclusions. In this summary I shall, however, confine myself to the most ob- vious conclusions. It has indeed of late become too common to draw the most sweeping conclusions as to infective diseases in general from the most unimportant observations on bacteria. I shall not follow this custom, although the material at my command would furnish rich food for meditation. For the longer I study infective diseases the more am I convinced that generalisations of new facts are here a mistake, and that every individual infective disease or group of closely allied diseases must be investigated for itself. As regards the artificial traumatic infective diseases observed by me, the conditions which must be established before their parasitic na- ture can be proved, we completely fulfilled in the case of the first five, but only partially in that of the sixth. For the infection was produced by such small quantities of fluid (blood, serum, pus, etc.,) that the result cannot be attributed to a merely chemical poison. In the materials used for inoculation bacteria were without excep- tion present, and in each disease a different and well marked form of organism could be demonstrated. BIOLOGY 31 At the same time, the bodies of those animals which died of the artificial traumatic infective diseases contained bacteria in such numbers that the symptoms and the death of the animals were sufficiently ex- plained. Further, the bacteria found were identical with those which were present in the fluid used for inoculation, and a definite form of organisms corresponded in every instance to a distinct disease. These artificial traumatic infective diseases bear the greatest re- semblance to human traumatic infective diseases, both as regards their origin from putrid substances, their course, and the result of post- mortem examination. Further, in the first case, just as in the last, the parasitic organisms could be only imperfectly demonstrated by the ear- lier methods of investigation ; not till an improved method of procedure was introduced was it possible to obtain complete proof that they were parasitic. diseases. We are therefore justified in assuming that human traumatic infective diseases will in all probability be proved to be para- sitic when investigated by these improved methods. On the other hand, it follows from the fact that a definite patho- genic bacterium, e. g., the septiceemic bacillus, cannot be inoculated on every variety of animal (a similar fact is also true with regard to the bacillus anthracis) ; that the septicaemia of mice, rabbits, and man are not under all circumstances produced by the same bacterial form. It is of course possible that one or other of the bacteric forms found in ani- mals also play a part in such diseases in the human subject. That, however, must be especially demonstrated for each case; a priori one need only expect that bacteria are present; as regards form, size and conditions of growth, they may be similar, but not always the same, even in what appear to be similar diseases in different animals. Besides the pathogenic bacteria already found in animals there are no doubt many others. My experiments refer only to those diseases which ended fatally. Even these are in all probability not exhausted in the six forms mentioned. Further experiments on many different spe- cies of animals, with the most putrid substances and with every pos- sible modification in the method of application, will doubtless bring to light a number of other infective diseases, which will lead to further conclusions regarding infective diseases and pathogenic bacteria. But even in the small series of experiments which I was able to carry out, one fact was so prominent that I must regard it as constant, and, as it helps to remove most of the obstacles to the admission of the existence of a centagium vivum for traumatic infective diseases, I look 312 BIOLOGY on it as the most important result of my work. I refer to the differences which exist between pathogenic bacteria and to the constancy of their characters. 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Texas and Slavery, LX, 111. GENERAL INDEX | 5 Cc Calvin, John Biography, V, 140. Doctrine of eternal election, Vv, avr Canon Law, IV, 308-318. Canuleian Law, ELLE, 27%, Capillaries, VI, 118, 119. Carnot, Sadie, IX, 370. Carroll, Daniel In the Federal Convention. On per capita voting in the Sen- ate, VII, 367. Cartesianism (See Philosophy, and Descartes, Geulinex, Male- branche, Spinoza, and Leibnitz). Carthage, III, 186. Castes Egyptian, I, 89. Brahman, I, 201. Cavendish Biography, VI, 290. ie een of Water, VI, 290- Celibacy Buddhist, I, 237. Early Church, IV, 51, 111, 323. Erasmus on, V, 108. Luther on, V, 123. In the Augsburg Confession, V, 162. Cell Theory Schwann, IX, 233. Weismann, X, 285. Censors, III, 34. . Chaldaea Account of Creation, I, 9. Account of Flood, I, 16. Ishtar’s Descent into Hades, I, 22. Legend of Sargon, I, 21. Laws, I, 27. Penitential Psalms, I, 25. Recent archeological discoveries concerning civilazation in, X, 182. Charlemagne (Karl the Great) Coronation, IV, 205. Donation of, IV, 204. Palace school of, IV, 206. Charles I, V, 391-430. Charles II, VII, 5. Chartism, X, 7. Chase, Salmon P. Protest of the Independent Demo- crats, IX, 144. Chatham Biography, VII, 65. Against the Right to Tax America, VII, 65. Chemistry (See Natural Sciences’ Leukippos and Demokritos, II, 187. Lucretius III, 262. Geber (830?-?), IV, 278. Roger Bacon (1214-1292), IV, 369. Paracelsus (1493-?), VI, 5. Boyle (1627-1691), VI, 152. Stahl (1660-1734), VI, 151. Joseph Black (1728-1754), VI, 272. C Chemistry (See Natural Sciences) Priestley (1733-1804), VI, 278. Scheele (1742-1786), VI,’ 284. Cavendish (1731-1810), VI, 290. Lavoisier (1743-1794), Vi, 297. Volta (1745-1774), VI, 358. Dalton (1766-1844), VIII, 368. Gay-Lussac (1778-1850), VIII, 375. Avogadro (1776-1865), VIII, 384. Dulong and Pettit (1813), VIII, 384. Davy (1778-1829), VIII, 361. Faraday (1791-1867), VIII, 399. Schwann (1810-1882), LX, 233. Helmholtz (1821-1894), IX, 360. Kirchhoff and Bunsen, IX, 289. Mendeléeff, X, 254. Lockyer, X, 270. Loeb, X, 254. Chloroform, IX, 428. Christianity and the Christians (See Religion). Church (See Religion). Cicero Biography, III, 215. Best Forms of Government, III, 228. geetcl of Death, The, III, 241- 262. The, Principles of Law, The, III, 216. Scipio’s Dream, III, 233. Twelve Tables, On the, III, 11. City, The Rise of the, IV, 390. Municipal Ownership, X, 76, 101. Clay, Henry Biography, VIII, 148. “American Policy,” The, VIII, 148. poproutee of 1820, Part in, VIII, 148, On the Compromise of 1833, VIII, 285. On the Compromise of 1859, IX, 117, Cleisthenes Aristotle’s aceount of, II, 69. Clinton, De Witt, VIII, 28. Clive, Lord Robert Biography, VII, 59, Conquest of India, VII, 57. On His conduct in India, VII, 59. Clocks, Pendulum, VI, 141. Clubs (See Trade Unions and Guilds). Colonial Systems, Roman, III, 77, 94; IV, 7. English, VII, 55-165. Columbus, Christopher, Biography, V, D. Journal, V; 7. Commerce and Trade (See Economics and Institutions), Egyptian, I, 84-105. Brahman, I, 204-5. Greek, II, 94, 113. K \ 4 C Commerce and Trade (See Economics and Institutions) Roman, III, 35, 193. Mediaeval, IV, 390. Modern, Spanish, V, 26, 41, 317. Bodin (latter half 16th century), VI, 155. The mercantilists, VI, 155. Thomas Mun, VI, 157. Physiocrats, VI, 392. Adam Smith, VI, 399-427; VII, 117-165. English, VII, 55. United States, VIII, 5. Hamilton, Alexander, VIII, 37. Ricardo, VIII, 305. Clay, VIII, 148, Benton, VIII, 196. Monopolies, X, 6, 8, 9, 44, 52, 76, 101. Karl Marx, X, 10-30. Friedrich Engels, X, 31-52. The Control of Railroads, X, 52- 76. Municipal and Private Owner- ship, X, 76-101. English State Socialism, X, 101. Commons founded, House of (1265), IV, 401. Communism (See also Monasticism, '. for religious communities) Spartan, II, 118. Plato, II, 320-338. Aristotle, II, 386. KKarl Marx, X, 10. Friedrich Engels, X, 31. Compass, V, 5. Compurgations, IV, 308. Comte, Auguste Biography, VIII, 344, The Positive Philosophy, VIII, 345. Confucius (Kung-fu-Tsze) | Biography, I, 382. Sayings, I, 382-411. Constitution of the United States, The (See Government, and United States), Forming of, VII, 246-367.. Hamilton on, VIII, 31. : Kentucky and Virginia Resolutions on, VIII, 96. And Expansion, Jefferson and Mar- shall on, VIII, 108. Josiah Quincey on, VIII, 122. Noe Hartford Convention on, VIII, 134, John Marshall on, VIII, 161-195. Benton on, VIII, 196. Calhoun on, VIII, 211. Hayne on, VIII, 287. Webster on, VIII, 246, Vera ation baie ttaby eos on, VIII, GENERAL INDEX Cc Constitution of the United States, The(See Government, and United States) Jackson on, VIII, 274. McDuffie on, IX, 83. Garrison on, IX, 94. Wendell Phillips on, IX, 104. Calhoun on, IX, 114. Seward on, IX, 123. Douglas on, IX, 136. Sumner, Chase, etc. on, IX, 147. Chief Justice Taney on, IX, 153. Lincoln on, IX, 177. Jefferson Davis, IX, 196. Platforms of 1860, IX, 199.’ Secession, LX, 208. Conversion Of Galerius, IV, 17. Of the heathen, IV, 62; Of the Franks, IV, 202. Of Kent, IV, 190. Of the East Angles, IV, 194. Co-operation, X, 101. Copernican Theory, The By Copernicus, Vy 96. Galileo on, V, 292. . Inquisition against, V, 302. Copernicus Biography, V, 95. The Copernican Theory, V, 96. —<— Cortez ft Account of the Aztec Civiention. V, 317-326. Councils of Church, Creation, The Chaldean account, I, 15. Brahman account, I, 195. Zoroaster’s account, I, 359. Greek account, II, 4. Philo Judaeus on, III, 355. Creeds (See Religion) Origeh’s statement, IV, 29. Synod of Elvira, IV, 111. St. Athanasius’ Exposition, IV, 171. Nicene, LV, 122. Athanasian, IV, 122. St. Augustine, IV, 75. Later Declarations of the Church, LV, 323. Wycliffite Conclusions, IV, 378. Luther’s Ninety-five Theses, V, 112. German Protestant, V, 151. Wesley, VI, 362. Cromwell, V,.392. Cronos conquers Uranus, II, 7. Crookes Telepathy, X, 358. Crusades History of, IV, 335, William of Tyre on Peter the Her- mit, IV, 337. Wate II, Speech at Clermont, IV, 8. The Truce of God, IV, 341. IV, 69. IV, 111, 122, 323. GENERAL INDEX 7 C Crusades Privileges of the Crusaders, IV, 345. Account of the Start, IV, 348. Cuneiform writing, X, 188. Cuvier Biography, VIII, 418. The Mutual Relations of Organized Beings, WIII, 419. Cyprian Biography, IV, 35. The Unity of the Church, IV, 35-51, D Daguerre, IX, 426. Dalton Biography, VIII, 368. On the Constitution of Bodies, VIII, 368. On Chemical Synthesis, VIII, 370. Danton In the French Revolution, VII, 372. Darwin Biography, IX, 200. Natural Selection, IX, 300-344. Davie, William Richard In the Federal Convention On the choice of the Senate, VII, 330. For equal representation, VII, the Senate, VII, 349. Davis, Jefferson Biography, IX, 196. That the territories cannot keep out slavery, LX, 197. Davy Biography, VIII, 361. On the discovery of the alkalies by electrolysis, VIII, 362-367. Dayton, Jonathan In the Federal Convention. For equal representation, VIi, 311, 332, 358. Decemvirs, III, 13, 15. Declaration of Independence = Dutch, V, 189. American, Arguments for and against, VII, 2357 Adams on, VII, 243. .- Paine on, VII, 209. © Declarations of the Church (See Creeds). Democratic Party (See Government, United States, ct Demokritos Biography, ITI, 187. The Atomic Theory, II, 187. Descartes Biography, VI, 41. Meditations, VI, 42-63. Dhammapada, I, 322-353. D Dickinson, John Biography, VII, 199. Letters of a Pennsylvania Farmer, Against the Suspension of the New York Legislature, VII, 199. Against Direct Taxation, VII, 2038. On Declaration of Independence (opposed to), VII, 236. On the Constitution, VII, 199. In the Federal Convention. Moved the appointment of the Senate by State Legislatures, VII, 265. For the preservation of the States, VII, 267. That representation should be proportional to contribution, VII, 270. Resolution for a stronger Union, VII, 286. Djafer ‘see Geber), IV, 278. Dio Cassius The Roman Empire Bstablished Fives the Guise of a Republic, Diocletian Establishment of an absolute mon- archy under, III, 95. Persecution of the Christians by, IV, 14. Diogenes the Cynic Biography, II, 339. Sayings and characteristics of, II, 339-343. Divine Right of Kings (Contrast the~ Social Contract Idea and the Sovereignty of the People), In Greece, II, 111. In Rome, III, 93; IV, 6, 35. During Middle Ages, IV, 206, 327. ar eee: Times, V, 190; VII, 5, Doctrine of “Ideas” (See also Ideal- ism), Plato, II, 239-311. Douglas, Stephen Biography, IX, 132. In United States History, IX, 44. “Squatter Sovereignty,” IX, 133. Draco Aristotle on Draco’s code of ee Dred Scott Decision, IX, 153. BH Ha, I, 16-21. Earth (See Geology). Helipse (See Astronomy). Education Brahman, I, 127-, 162-, 185-. GENERAL INDEX H Education The education of the Buddhists, I, 225-245, 253-322. Chinese, I, 382-411. Spartan, II, 105-135. Plato, The ideal education, beginning of educational theory, II, 320-328. Aristotle, The ideal education, II, 411-418. The education of the Cynics, Stoics, and other Greek schools, II, 339, 418. Quintilian on the Ideal Roman Ed- ucation, III, 312-326. Plutarch on the training of chil- dren, III, 370-391. The education of the monasteries, mediaeval schools, privileges, courses of study, student life, IV, 206, 350-369; VI, 23. Roger Bacon (1214-1294), on the pre- vailing education, IV, 369. Of the Renaissance, VI, 23. John Sturm, (1507-1587). Classical scholarship, VI, 24. : Montaigne (1533-1592), on the essen- tials of education. The educa- tion of children, V, 198. Francis Bacon (1561-1626). Against the principles of the scholastic education. The empirical edu- cation, V, 234. Wolfgang Ratke (1571?-). Rules, Vi, 24 Comenius (1592-1670). Educational Laws. The development of the individual must follow nature. Jesuit, VI, 24. Rousseau (1712-1778). The return to nature in education, VII, 47; TX 21. Pestalozzi (1746-1847). The new ed- ucational spirit, IX, 22-42. Froebel (1782-1868). The kindergar- ten. Education by doing, IX, 402-410. Horace Mann and educational re- form in the United States, IX, ~ 410-420, Economics (See also Institutions. For Political Science, see Govern- ment) Egyptian, I, 84, 105. Brahman, I, 202-6. Athenian, II, 94-105. Spartan, II, 113-118. Plato, II, 312-338. Aristotle, II, 383-386, 397-417. Roman, Support of army, III, 25-30. , Licinian laws, III, 35-46. Sumptuary laws, III, 54-65. E Economics (See also Institutions. For Political Science, see Govern- ment) Mismanagement of the provinces, III, 77-90. History of luxury, III, 193-215. Nerva’s care of indigent children, III, 94. Citizenship and taxes extended to all (212 A. D.), III, 95. Diocletian, III, 99. Justinian’s Institutes, III, 100- 166. Mediaeval, Laws of the Franks, IV, 177-188. Laws of the Anglo-Saxons, IV, 211-240. Economics of the monasteries, IV, 128. City customs and revenues, LV, 390. Guilds, IV, 395. Modern, German peasant demands, V, 134. England, Ship money, V, 396. Monopolies, grants, ete., V, 403- 430. Jean Bodin (later half 16th centu- ary), Ten-fold rise in prices due to im- portation of gold from the New World, VI, 155. The Mercantile Theory, VI, 155. Thomas Mun (1571-1644), © The Mercantile Theory of bal- ance of trade, VI, 157. Sir William Petty (1623-1687), VI, 156. Bill of Rights (1689), VI, 10. Locke (1632-1704), The Basis of Property is, Labor, VI, 164-171. Physiocratic School, VI, 156, 392. Quesnay (1694-1774), WI, 392. General maxims. tener trading companies, VII, Taxation of the colonies, VII, 55- Adam Smith (1723-1790), Against the Mercantile System, VI, 399-427. The Colonies and Free Trade, VII, 117-165. Arthur Young, ‘ Economic condition of France as the cause of the French Revo- lution, VII, 368-. William Winterbotham, Economic condition of the United States (1790), VIII, 15. Alexander Hamilton (1757-1804), GENERAL INDEX 9 10) Beonomics Hamilton, Alexander, Financial measures, VIII, 30. Report on manufactures: the pro- tective policy, VIII, 37-96. T. B. Malthus (1766-1834), The Principle of Population, VIII, 293-305. Economie conditions during the War of 1812, VIII, 134. David Ricardo (1772-1823), Theory of Rent, VIII, 305. Henry Clay (1777-1852), The “American Policy,” VIII, 148, Thomas Benton (1782-1858), The Tariff of 1828, VIII, 196. Auguste Comte (1798-1857), neve Positive Philosophy, VIII, Henry Clay, The Compromise of 1833, VIII, 285. Hall: Slave economics, IX, 46-62. George McDuffie touches the eco- nomic side of slavery, [X, 83. Calhoun, Condition of free blacks and slaves contrasted, IX, 111. Seward, LX, 123, Sumner, Chase, Giddings, ete., IX, 144, Somers, Robert, Conditions in the South, X, 124-134. Monopolies and the control of trade, X, 6, 8, 9, 44, 52, 76, 101. Guilds and trade unions, X, 6, 8, 19, 36, 46. Karl Marx, X, 10-30. Manifesto of the Communist - Party. Doctrine of surplus value. Friedrich Engels, X, 31-52. Scientific Socialism. Interstate Commerce Commission The Control of Railroads, X, 52-76. Municipal and private ownership compared, X, 76-101. H. W. Macrosty (Fabian Society), X, 101-123. English State Socialism. Redfield Procter. Conditions in Cuba, X, 135-146. F, H. Sawyer, X, 147-181. The Philippines. Egypt, Ancient, Book of the Dead, Osiris worship, E29: Civilization and Life, by Herodo- tus, I, 80. Hymn to the Nile, I, 79. “Hight Fold Path,” The, I, 220. EK Elections in the United States, VIII, 25; IX, 41. Electricity (See Physics). Ellsworth, Oliver In the Federal Convention. Did not despair that some good plan of government could be devised, VII, 319. Moved equality in the Senate, VII, 3238. The rights of the minority, VII, 327. Connecticut federal, VII, 329. Looxed to the States for domestic tranquility, VII, 334. On the legislative power, VII, 344, 362. Elysium (See Immortality, Hades, etc.), II, 49. Embalming, I, 101. Embryo Von Baer, VIII, 394, Haeckel, IX, 344-360. Empedokles Biography, II, 160. Extant fragments, IT, 160. Engels Scientific Socialism, X, 31-52. England (See Government and under Separate heads) Anglo-Saxon conquest, IV, 188. Anglo-Saxon conversion, LV, 190. Anglo-Saxon laws and customs, IV, 211., Feudal, IV, 200. Normans and Saxons, IV, 384. Rise of the Cities, TV, 390. Norman laws and customs, IV, 397. The Magna Charta, IV, 401. Uprising under Bail and Tyler, IV, 413. Colonies, V, 354, 360; VII, 55. Puritan Revolution, V, 391-430. Supremacy of Parliament, WII, 5. Habeas Corpus Act, VII, 8. Bill of Rights, VII, 10. Conquest of India, VII, 57, 59. English views of the American - Revolution, VII, 66, 165. Abolishes slavery, IX, 79, 112. State Socialism in, X, 101. Epictetus Biography, III, 392. Discourses, III, 392-407. Epicurus Biography, II, 426. Letter on Happiness as the Great- est Good, II, 426. Hrasmus Biography, V, 103. Satires, Benefice Hunting, V, 104. The Penitent Virgin, V, 108. 10 GENERAL INDEX 19) EKrastosthenes Biographical note, III, 290. Measured the circumference of the Earth, III, 290. Ether (See Physics) Huyghens (1609-1695), VI, 141-150. Thomas Young (1773-1829), VIII, 442, Jas. Clerk, Maxwell, X, 208, Hertz’ Waves, X, 215. Crookes, X, 358. Ethical Rules of Life, Chaldean, I, 25-29. Egyptian, I, 72-75. Brahman, I, 201-218. Buddha, Conduct, not knowledge, I, 225 245. Rules of conduct, I, 236-2438. Ideas to be avoided, I, 245-253. Confucius, I, 382-411. Hesiod, II, 30-34. Seneca, III, 327. Epictetus, III, 392. Marcus Aurelius, III, 406. Harly church, IV, 111. Monasticism, IV, 128. Protestantism, V, 111-151. Wesley, VI, 365. Huclid Founded geometry, III, 288. Eudoxus, III, 288. Evolution Lamarck (1744-1829), Evolution by use, VIII, 412. Goethe, Transformation in plants, VIII, 394. Cuvier (1769-1832), VIII, 418. Discovered fossils of extinct species but believed in special creation of each species. The Mutual Relations of organ- ized Beings. St. Hillaire (i772. -1844), Unity of plan in animals) VIII, 395. Von Baer, VIII, 394. Development of the embryo.(1828) Charles Lyell (1797-1875), Past changes in the earth the re- Bult of causes now acting, IX, 214, Schwann 1810-1882), Cell theory, IX, 233. Herbert Spencer, IX, 259-300. Progress: Its Law and Cause. A. R. Wallace: Natural Selection, IX, 300. Charles Darwin, Natural Selection, TX, 300-344. Haechel, . ‘Fundamental Law of the Evolu- tion of organisms, IX, 344-360. BE Evolution Weismann, Theory of Heredity, X, 285-308. Expansion, VIII, 108-134. EF Fabricius : Discovered the valves in the veins, Wigs Haraday Biography, VIII, 390. Liquification of Chlorine, VIII, 390. Electricity from Magnetism, IX, 17-21. Ferrier Localization of Functions in the Brain, X, 337. Feudalism, IV, 300-318. Forms of dependence of the seris and freemen, IV, 300. Private jurisdictions, IV, 301. Homage and fealty, IV, 303. Mutual duties, IV, 306. Authority of the lord, IV, 307. Compurgation, LV, 308. ’ Ordeals, IV, 309. . Wagers of battle, IV, 315. Fichte Biography VIII, 318. Outlines of the ‘Doctrine of Know- ledge, VIII, 319-330. Finance (See Heonomics). Flavio Giopo Invented the mariner’s compass, V, 6. Flood, The Chaldaean account, I, 19. Foundation of the Kingdom of Right- eousness, Buddha, I, 220. ’ Francis, St., V, 123. Franklin, Benjamin Biography, VI, 261. Account of His Electrical Experi- ments, VI, 262. Identity of Lightning and Electri- tone The Lightning Rod, VI, The Kite Experiment, VI, 270. Examination on the Stamp Act, VII, 185-198. Information to Those about to Em- igrate to America, VIII, 5. In the Federal Convention. On the question of representa. tion, VII, 271. | For prayer for the convention, VII, 315. Compromise, VIII, 330, 349, 352. Franks Laws and customs, IV, 177-188, Conversion, IV, 202. Pippin, LV, 203. Karl the Great, IV, 204. GENERAL INDEX Free Trade and Protection Mercantilists and Thomas Mun A eer VI, 155-163; VII, 55, Physiocrats (1750) on, VI, 392-399. Adam Smith (1776), VI, 399-427; VII, 117-165. Alexander Hamilton on, VIII, 37-96. Free Will St. Augustine, IV, . Calvin, V, 141. Spinoza, VI, 63. Hobbes, VI, 93. Leibnitz, VI, 78. _Kant, YL 40, 201, SEL Froeper © The Reina eoneienl IX, 402-410. Froissart |. oot rye under Ball and Tyler, IV, G Galen Biography, III, 291. Discoveries, III, 291. Harvey quotes, VI, 9. Galerius Christians persecuted by, IV, 14. Edict of Toleration by, IV, 1%. Galileo Biography, V, 290. Discoveries, V, 290. For the Copernican System, V, 292. Condemnation by the Inquisition, V, 302. -Recantation, V, 306. Gallatin See. of Treasury, VILL, 27. Galvani Electrical discoveries, WI, 358. Gama, Vasco da Biography, V, 26. Account of His Voyage round Africa to India, V, 26. Garrison, William Loyd (1805-1879) The Liberator (1831), LX, 95. The Constitution a “Covenant with Death and an Agreement with Hell’? (1842), IX, 97. No Union with Slaveholders (1842), IX, 98. In Defence of the American Anti- Slavery Society (1844), LX, 99-104. Gas, IX, 422. Gathas of Zoroaster, I, 354-381. Gay-Lussac Biography, VIII, 375. On the Combination of Gaseous Substances with each other, Wit. 375. Geber Alchemist: made nitric and sul- | phurie acid, IV, 278. Geography (See Astronomy and Bi- ology il G Geography (See Astronomy and Bi- ology) Anaximander, II, 148. Aristarchus, III, 288. Hrastosthenes, III, 290. Pliny the Elder, III 293. Columbus, V, 7. Vasco da Gama, V, 26. Magellan, V, 41. Cortez, V, 317. Mendoza, V, 327. Champlain, V, 342, Geometry, III, 288. “Ga {Germans Tacitus on the, IV, 165. Anglo-Saxon customs, Feudalism, IV, 300. ‘* State and Church, IV, 318, 423. - Reformation, V, 102. Socialism, X, 5. Germ Theory, Devaine, X, 285. Pasteur, X, 319. Koch, X, 309. Gerry, Elbridge In the Federal Convention Against the excess of democracy, VII, 261, 262. For the election of Senators by the State legislatures, VII, 266, 268. The States never independent. For proportional representa- tion, VII, 322. The people should hold the purse strings, VII, 274, 351. Report of compromise committee, VII, 339, 340, 345, 351. On equality in the Senate, VII, 353, 354, 357. Against a confederacy of part of the States, VII, 358. Geulinex Non-interaction but harmony of matter and mind, VI, 38. Gilgamesh, I, 16. Glenn: Speech in the- Democratic Convention, 1860, IX, 199. God (See Religion, Immorality, Phil- osophy, Soul, etc.) God, To the Unknown, I, 109, Goethe Stamens and pistils are trans- formed leaves, VIII, 394. Gorham, Nathaniel In the Federal Convention The absolute necessity of federa- tion, VII, 318. Committee report, VII, 275. On the compromise, VII, 340. For proportional representation, VII, 347. V,, 21g, — 12 GENERAL INDEX G Gorham, Nathaniel Hor several Senators from 4a State, Vil, 367. Government Under this head we shall index, first, the science of govern- ment or political science; sec- ond, institutions, and politi- cal ideas. See also economics, laws, education, inventions, and sociai science, The Science of Government or Political Science, proper, Plato (429-348, B. C,), began poli- tical science. Origin of the State, II, 311-320. Education by the State, Ii, 320-328, Community in the State, II, 328-338. Aristotle (384-322 B. ©.) Origin of the State, IT, 383-386. The Ideal State, Li, 386-418. Education in the State, II, 411- 418, History and description of the ete constitution, IT, 54- Polybius (204-122 B. C.) Analysis of the Roman Govern- ment, III, 166-193. Cicero (105- -43 B. C.), III, 215- 262. as Principles of Law, III, 216- 28. The Best Forms of Govern- ment, III, 228-233. Marsilius of Padua (latter half 13th century). The beginning of the modern theory of the state, IV, 423. Machiavelli (1469-1527). Mediaeval and early modern political ideas. The Prince, V, _58- 95. yor dence: The Duty of Rulers, V, 189. Hobbes (1588-1679). Social Con- tract Idea of Society, VII, 19- 25. The supremacy of parliament in England, VII, 5 The Habeas Corpus Act, WII, 8. (1679). The Bill of Rights (1689), VII, 10- 16. Locke (1638-1704). The Basis of Property is Labor, VI, 164-171. The Origin of Political Socie- ties and the Right of the Peo- ple to Revolt, VII, 25-35. G Government Montesquieu (1689-1755), VII, 35- 46, The principle of the separation of powers. The physiocratic school, led by Gournay and Quesnay. Quesnay (1694-1774), VI, 392-300. General Maxims. Rousseau (1712-1778) The Contrat Social (1762): The ruler only the instrument of the people, who are always sovereign, VII, 47-55. American Revolutionary Ideas, VII, 166-245. Forming of the Constitution, VII, 246-367, French Revolutionary Ideas, VII, 368-432, Development of the American Political Ideas, VIII, 25-291; IX, 42-213. Karl Marx Manifesto of the Communist Party, X, 10. Friedrich Engels Scientific Socialism, X, 31. Public ownership and control, X, 52, 76 H. W. Macrosty English State Socialism, X, 101. Institutions and Political Ideas, Chaldaea and Babylonia. Babylonian Laws, I, 27. Recent archzeological discover- ies in Babylonian society in vol. X, 184. Egypt. HKgyptian life described by He- rodotus . (400 B. C.), I, 80-108. The Jews. See Exodus, Leviticus, Num- bers, Deuteronomy. China. Many of the customs and rules of propriety of China to-day date back to Confucius (551- 478 B. C.), I, 382-411. The Brahmans. Laws and life of the castes, I, 201-208. Education, I, 127—, 162—, 185—. Buddha (5th century B. C.) Rules of conduct, I, 233-245, Customs of Buddha, I, 253-322, Proverbs, I, 328-353. Greece. Life and institutions of the Spartans, II, 105-135. Spar- tan education. Life and institutions of the Athenians, II, 54-105. GENERAL INDEX 13 G Government Institutions and Political Ideas. . Draco (621 B. C.), II, 56. Solon (594 B. C.), . Laws, II, 57-63. Sociological poems — extant parts. Peisistratus (560 B. C.), II, 63- 67 Cleisthenes (608 B. G.), II, 69- 72 Pericles (460-429 B. C.), II, 75—. Rome, Republic. Appian’s review of the Roman contentions, III, 5. Origin of Roman law, III, 9.— Justinian’s Digest. The Quaestor (before 509 B. C.), ITI, 52. The right of appeal to the peo- . ple in capital cases, 509 B. CG., Ill, 12.—Cicero. mer Tribunes, 494 B. C., ITI, 3, The Decemvirs, 451-449 B. C., IfI, 183—, 15—. Fragments of the Twelve Tab- les, 449 B. C., III, 9—. Laws passed by the people as- sembled in tribes to be bind- ing on all, 449 B. C.—Diony- sius Halicarnassus. Renewal of the sacredness of - the Tribunes, 449 B. C., III, 16. Right of intermarriage— the Canuleian Law-—B. C. 445, III, 17-25. The Military Tribunes, 444 B. C., III, 24. The Censors established, 443 B. C., III, 34. A regular army. established, the troops paid, and winter campaigns begun, 406-400 B. C., III, 25-30, The Praetorship, 367 B. C., III, 46. The Licinian Law, 361 B. C., - compromising the land ques- tion; one consul a pleb; in- terest deducted from the principal of debts; slave lab- or, and amount of land held limited, ILI, 35-46, All offices thrown open to the plebeians by the Publilian laws, 8386 B. C. Orders of commons binding on all. III, The censorship, 312 B. C.; also publie road building by Ap- pius Claudius, IIT, 54. Priesthood opened to plebeians, G Government Institutions and Political Ideas. 300 B. C., III, 48. Hortensian Law, 287 B. C.,, made all laws passed by the plebs alone binding on all. III, 58.—Aulus Gellius. Annexation of Sabine territory, 290 B. C. War with Pyrrhus and Taren- tum. All Italy made part of the growing empire, 272 B. C. First Punic War, 264-241 B. C. Second Punic War, 218-201 B. - C. Spain acquired. Second Macedonian War, 200- 196 B. C. Greece “‘liberated.’’ The Bacchanalian revelers re- pressed, 186 B. C., III, 65-77. Third Macedonian War, 172-168 B. C. Macedonian divided. Destruction of Carthage, 146 B. C., III, 166. Destruction of Corinth, 146 B. C., III, 166. Strictures on dress and food, 145 B. C., ITI, 54-65. The Gracchi, 133-121 B, C., ITI, 77-90. Mismanagement of the provin- ces, III, 77-90. Rome after the Punic Wars, by Polybius. An analysis of the Roman government, military institutions, ete., III, 166-193. Rome and Carthage com- pared. Transalpine Gaul made a prov- ince, 120 B. C. The Social War, 90-89 B. C. Allies admitted to citizenship, IIT, 90, 91. Marius and Sulla, 88-79 B. C. Cicero (105-43 B. C.), III, 215. The First Triumvirate, 60 B. C. Civil War between Caesar and Pompey, 49 B. C. The Second Triumvirate, 43 B.C. Rome, Empire. Growth of luxury at the close of the republic, III, 193.— Lucan Augustus. The empire established under the guise of a republic, 27 B. C., III, 32—Dio Cassius. Elections taken from the peo- ple and given to the senate, 14 A. D., III, 92. Luxury increased from the time of Actium (81 B. C.) to Tiberius; then began to de- cline among the _ senators, though the extravagance of 14 GENERAL INDEX G G Government Institutions and Political Ideas Middle Ages. Monasticism. St. Benedict’s Government Institutions and Political Ideas Rome, Empire the emperors, increased through the time of Nero (54 A. D.); and with Vespasian a period of parsimonious living began, lasting about 100 years. III, 194-. Growth of royal power under Vespasian, 69 A. D., ILI, 93. Quintilian (35-95 A. D.). The Ideal Roman Hducation, III, 312-326. Nero (64 A. D.). Persecution of Christians. Nerva, care of indigent chil- dren 96-97 A. D., III, 94. Trajan, 98 A. D. The empire at its widest extent. Perse- cutions of Christians. The paternalism of the empire, Plutarch (50 A. D.-120 A. D.) The training of children III, 370-391. Marcus Aurelius, 161 A. D., IV, 9. Persecution of the Christians. Caracalla extends citizenship to all inhabitants of the em- pire (212 A. D.) in order to include ali in certain tax- ation. Persecution upder Valerian .(254 A. D.), IV, 138. Diocletian (284 A. D.). An ab- solute monarchy, III, 95-99. Persecution of Christians. Edict of Toleration by Galerius 303 A. D., IV, 17. Decree of Milan 318 A. D., IV, 19. Synod, of Hivira, Problems of the Church, [V, 111. Fourth century Roman life, by Ammianus Marcellinus, III, 202. Asceticism, Origin of, IV, 51-62. Constantine the Great founds Constantinople (828 A. D.). Theodosius, 878-395 A. D. Code, IV, 69. The customs of the Germans, by Tacitus, IV, 165. The Anglo-Saxon Conquest of Britain, by Bede, 449-456 A. D., IV, 188. Overthrow of Empire, 475 A. D. Justinian (527-565). Eastern em- peror codifies Roman Law. Justinian’s Institutes, III, 100-168. Rules, about 500 A. D., iV, 128-165. The Salic Law, the laws of the Franks, IV, 177-188. Conversion of the Franks (496 A. D.), IV, 202, (by Gregory of Tours). Conversion of Kent, 596 A. D., IV, 190. (By Bede.) Conversion of Hast Angles, 627 A. D., IV, 194. (By Bede). Arabs, Middle Ages. Mohammed (570-632). Begin- ning of the Era of the Arabs in Asia Minor, Africa, Spain, and Turkey, LY, 240-298. Christian Europe, Middle Ages. The laws of the Anglo-Saxons, of King Aethelbirht of Kent (560-616) of Hlothhaere and Eadric (673-686), of Wihtraed (690-725), of ~.lfred (871-924), Edward (901-924), with Guth- rum the Dane, of Aethel- stan (294- ? ), Edmund and - Edgar, IV, 211-240. Donation of Pippin, 756 A. D., IV, 203. Donation of Charlemagne, 774 A. D., IV, 204. Coronation of Karl the Great, 800 A. D., IV, 205. School of Karl the Great, IV, 206. Treaty of Verdun, 843 A. D., the divisions of modern Hur- ope formed. Feudalism. The disintegration of Europe left the barons each to govern his own coun- ty with but slight dependence on the higher duke or king. Forms of dependence of the serfs and freemen, IV, 300. Private jurisdictions, IV, 301. Homage and fealty, IV, 3038. Mutual duties, IV, 306. Authority of the lord, IV, 307. Compurgation, IV, 308. Ordeals, IV, 309. Wagers of battle, IV, 315. The Struggle between Church and State, IV, 318. Program of Gregory VII, (1073-1085), IV, 320. Claims of the pope. Declarations of the Church on lay investiture, celibacy, simony, annual confession, transubstantiation, LV, 321, GENERAL INDEX 15 G Government Institutions and Political Ideas Middle Ages. Gregory VII. vrs. Henry IV., LV, 323. The Crusades, IV, 335-350. ~~. William of Tyre on Peter the Hermit. : Urban II, Speech at Cler- mont, 1095. The Truce of God. Privileges of the Crusaders. Account of the Start. Mediaeval Universities, IV, 350. Privileges, Frederick I, 1158 A. D. Gregory IX, for the Univer- sity of Paris, 1231 A. D. Course of Study, Robert de Courcon, 1215 A. D. Life of Students. Saxons and Normans, by Wil- liam of Malmesbury, IV, 384, Rise of the Cities, IV, 390-397. English city customs. Typical charters. A typical guild. Norman Judicial Customs, 1166 A. D., IV, 397. The Magna Charta, 1215, A. D., - TY, 4 Uprising under Ball and Tyler. by Froissart, IV, 413. Wycliffe (1320-1384) and Greg- ory XI., IV, 377. Renaissance, V 5, 103. Fall of Constantinople (1453) and diffusion of Greek knowledge in Western Hur- ope, V, 5. Sixteenth Century. The New Countries. Cortez: Account of the Aztec Civilization in 1520, V 317-326. Mendoza: Founding of St. Augustine (1565), V, 327- 341. The Reformation, V, 102. Erasmus (1466 ? -1536), V, 103- 110. Translated the New Testa- ment. satirized the foibles of the church and clergy. Benefice-Hunting. The Penitent Virgin. Martin Luther (1483-1556), V 111-134. Ninety-five Theses (1517), V, 112. Against Catholicism, V, 119 , G Government Institutions and Political Ideas Justification by Faith, V, 127. The Peasant Revolt (1525), ¥, 134. The Twelve Articles (De- mands) of the Peasanis, V, 185. oP an (1509-1564), V. Doctrine of eternal elect- ion, V, 141-150. The whole case of the Pro- testants as given to the world in the Augsburg i (1530), V, 151- Loyola (1491-1556), V, 179. The Jesuit Constitution, V, 180-188. Revolt of the Protestant . etherlands, 1566-1609, V, Seventeenth Century New Countries. Jamestown founded (1607). Quebec; account by Cham- Plain (1608), V, 342-354, Morton: Customs of the In- dians in 1637, V, 360-376. The First Written Constitu- tion, Connecticut (1638), V, 354-360. Hooker: Church Questions in New England, V, 378. The English Revolution (1628- 1649), V, 391. , The Petition of Right (1628), V, 393. First Writ of Ship-Money, Specimen, (1635), V, 396. Pym against Strafford, (1641), V, 399. The case of parliament in the Grand Remonstrance (1641), 403-430. Eighteenth Century English Colonial System, VII, 55- 165. See also American Revolution below. Clive (1725-1774), VII, 59-65. Conquest of India. On His Conduct in India. American Revolution, VII, 166- 245, See also English Colonial Sys- tem above. James Otis and the Writs of As- sistance (1761), VII, 167, 172- Ages 16 GENERAL INDEX G Government Institutions and Political Ideas The Rights of the British Colon- ies (1764), VII, 177-178. Samuel Adams (1722-1803). Vindication of Boston (1764), VII, 178-9. Against the Stamp Act. Patrick Henry (1736-1799). Vir- ginia Resolutions against the Pate Act (1765), VII, 179- 184. Franklin examined on the effect of the Stamp Act (1766), VII, 185-198. Chatham (1708-1778). Against the right to tax America (1766), VII, 65-77. Grenville (1712-1770). Answer to Chatham and against repeal of Stamp Act (1766), VII, 70- 72, Mansfield (1705-1793). In favor of the Right to Tax America (1766), VII, 77-86. John Dickinson (1732-1808). Against the suspension of the New York legislature and internal taxation. Letters of a Pennsylvania Far- mer (1767), VII, 199-208. Edmund Burke (1729-1797). On Conciliation with America, VII, 87-11. Thomas Paine (1737-1809). Common Sense (1776), VII, 209- 229. Thomas Jefferson (1748-1826). A Summary View of the Rights of British America (1774) VII, 230-235. The passing of the Declaration and the arguments used for and against it, VII, 235-421. John Adams (1736-1826). On the Declaration of Indepen- dence, VII, 248. Adam Smith (1723-1790). The Principle of the Commer- cial or Mercantile System, VI, 399-427, Free Trade and the Colonies, VII, 17-165. Debates on the Federal Constitu- tion, 1787, VII, 246-367. Those who attended were: Virginia: Geo. Washington, Edmund Randolph, James Madi- son, John Blair, Geo. Mason, Geo. Wythe, James McClurg. G Government Institutions and Political Ideas Massachusetts: Elbridge Gerry, Rufus King, Caleb Strong, Nathaniel Gorham. Pennsylvania: Benjamin Franklin, Robert Morris, Gouverneur Mor- ris, James Wilson, Jared Ingersoll, Thos. Mifflin, Thos. Fitzsimons, Geo. Clymer. New York: Alexander Hamilton, Rob- ert Yates, John Lansing, Maryland: Luther Martin, James Me- Henry, Daniel Carroll, Daniel of St. Thos. Jeni- fer, John Francis Mercer. North Carolina: Alexander Martin, Wm. Richardson Davie, Wm. Blount, Richard Dobbs Spaight, Hugh William- son. South Carolina: John Rutledge, Chas. Cotesworth Pinckney, Chas. Pinckney, Pierce Butler. Connecticut: Roger Sherman, Oliver HUsworth, Wm. Samuel Johnson. New Jersey: William Patterson, William Livingston, David Brear- ly, Jonathan Dayton. Delaware: John Dickinson, Geo. Read, Gunning Bedford, Rich- ard Bassett, Jacob Broome. Georgia: William Few, Abraham Baldwin, William Pierce, William Houston. New Hampshire: John Langdon, Gilman. The French Revolution Montesquieu (1689-1755). The Separation of Powers, VII, 35-46. The Physiocrats. Quesnay (1694-1774). General Maxims, VI, 392- 399. Rousseau (1712-1778). Nicholas GENERAL INDEX 17 G Government Institutions and Politieal Ideas The Social Contract, VII, 47- 55. Louis XVI. came to throne (1774), VII, 369. Turgot (1727-1781). Plans on accepting office, VII, 369, 390-394. Necker and Calonne, VII, 370. Arthur Young (1741-1820). The Condition of the French People, VII, 374-390. Siéyes (1748-1836). “What is the Third Estate?” VII, 394-398. States General (1789), VII, 370. National Assembly (1789), VII, 371, Complaints of the People, VII, 398-411. Capture of the Bastile July 14, 1789, VII, 371. Abolition of Feudal Privileges (Aug. 11), VII, 871, 411-414. Declaration of the Rights of Man, Vil, 415-417. Origin of the Jacobin club, VII, 428-430, Mirabeau, The Condition of Affairs Oct. 15, 1789, VII, 417-428. Danton, Marat, and Robes- pierre, VII, 372-373. The Republic (Sept. 21, 1792), VII, Execution of the King, Jan. 21, \ 24; 1793): VIT, 372. General War against Republic, VII, 373. Reign of Terror, VII, 3738. Robespierre supreme, VII, 373. Worship of Divine Being Re- established, VII, 378. Napoleon, VII, 373. _ American Conditions, Benjamin Franklin. Information to Those about to. Hmigrate to America, VIII, 5. W. Winterbotham. Conditions in the United States, VIII, 15. T. B. Malthus (1766-1834). Essay on the Principle of Pop- ulation (1798), VIII, 293-305. The Development of Political Ideas in the United States, 1789-1833. Alexander Hamilton, VIII, 30-96. The Powers of the Supreme Court, WIII, 31. Monetary Measures, VIII, 39. G Government Institutions and Political Ideas Discussion of a Protective Pol- icy, VIII, 37-96. Ideas of State Sovereignty, WIII, 96. The Kentucky Resolutions (Jef- ferson), VIII, 97. | The Virginia Resolutions (Mad- ison), 1789, VIII, 103. The Kentucky Resolutions of 1799, VIII, 106. Expansion, VIII, 108. The Louisiana Treaty, 1803, VIII, 109. Jefferson on the Louisiana Pur- chase, VIII, 112. Marchall on the Constitutional- ity of Expansion, VIII, 118. Northern Tendencies toward Se- cession, VIII, 121. Josiah Quiney, VIII, 122. Against the Admission of Louisiana, 1811, VIII, 122. The Hartford Convention, 1814, VII, 134, Henry Clay (1777-1852). The “American Policy” of In- ternal Improvement, VIII, 148-160. The Compromise of 1820, VIIT, 148 (See also on the Compromises of 1833 and 1850). James Monroe (1758-1831). The Monroe Doctrine, 1823, VIII, 288. John Marshall (1755-1835). The Supreme Court Superior to State Legislatures, VIII, 151. National Law Superior to State Law and the Doctrine of Im- plied Powers, VIII, 163. The Supreme Court the Final Judge of the Construction of the Constitution, VIII, 186. Thomas Benton (1782-1858), VIII, 196 The Revision of the Tariff in 1828 and the Rise of the Doc- trine of Nullification (Includ- ing selections from Rowan, Webster, Benton, Hayne and McDuffie), VIII, 197. John Calhoun (1782-1850). Address on the Relation of the State and the General Gov- ernment, 1831, VIII, 211-236. (See also on Texas and Slavery, Vol, IX.) Robert Elayne (1791-1349). 18 GENERAL INDEX G Government Institutions and Political Ideas The Doctrine of Nullification, VIII, 287. Daniel Webster (1782-1852), VIII, 246. the Supreme Court the Final Arbiter, VIII, 247. The Nullification Ordinance, 1832, VIII, 270. PRs Jackson (1767-1845), VIII, 27 Proclamation against Nullifica- tion, VIII, 275. Henry Clay, Compromise of 1833, VIII, 85. Political Ideas in the United States, 1833-1860, IX, 42. Basil Hall (1788-1844). cere Conditions (1828), IX, 46- 2. Harriet Martineau (1802-1876). Morals of Slavery (1835:, IX, 638-83. Geo. McDuffie (1788-1851). The Rights of Slavery, William Lloyd Garrison 1879). The Liberator (1831), IX, 95. The Constitution a “Covenant with Death and an Agree- ment with Heil’ (1842), IX, Cae ey IX, 83. (1805- No Union with Slaveholders (1842), LX, 98. In Defense of the American Anti-Slavery Society (1844), IX, 99-104. Wendell Phillips (1811-1884). The Murder of Lovejoy, IX, 105. John Calhoun. Texas and. Slavery (1844), DX, a hh Henry Clay. The Compromise of 1850. IX, 117. William Henry Seward (1801- 1872). The Higher Law (1849-50), IX, 123-132. Stephen A. Douglas (1813-1861). “Squatter Sovereignty” (1854), TX Vise Appeal of the Independent Dem. ocrats, Chase, Sumner, Gid- dings, etc., 1854), IX, 144. The Republican Party, IX, 144. Chief Justice Taney (1777-1864). The Dred Scott Decision (1858), IX, 158. G Sy, Government Institutions and Political Ideas Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865). Against Squatter Sovereignty and the Dred Scott Decision (1858), IX, 177. Jefferson Davis. The Senate Resolutions, IX, 196. The Platforms of 1860, IX, 199. Douglas Democratic. Southern Democratic. Republican. Constitutional Union. Secession, LX, 208. Ordinance. South Carolina’s Statement of the Case, Karl Marx, Manifesto of the Communist Party. Robert Somers, Conditions in the South, X. Redfield Procter, Conditions in Cuba, x. KF. H. Sawyer, The Philippines. Public control and ownership, X. Friedrich Engels, Scientific Socialism. e H. W. Macrosty, English State Socialism. Gracchi, The Account of Sempronius and Gaius Gracchus by Appian, III, 77. Gracchus, Gaius On the mismanagement of the Provinces, ILI, 89. Gravitation, VI, 105. — Greece (see in Chronological Index; or under Religion, Philosophy, Government, Natural Sciences), entire volume II; Til, 285-292. Grenville Biography, VII, 65. Answer to Chatham and against the repeal of the Stamp Act, VII, 70. Grew Discovered cells in plants, VI, 118. Guericke Invented air-pump and first electri- cal machine, VI, 118. Guilds, IV, 395. Gun, IX, 428. Gun Cotton, VIII, 427. Gunpowder, IV, 369. Guttenburg . Invented printing, V, 5. GENERAL INDEX 19 me) H Habeas Corpus Act, VII, 8. Hades (See Soul, Immortality, Nirva- na, Elysium, etc.) Ishtar’s descent into, I, 22-25. HKegyptian idea of, I, 29-79. Brahinan ideas of future punish- ment or reward, I, 208-218; I, 122, 126,.156, 160. Greek: ' Descent of Odysseus into pur- gatory, ete., IT, 35. Hadrian Persecution of Christians by, IV, 7. Haeckel The Fundamental Law of the Evo- lution of Organisms, IX, 134. Hall, Basil Slave Conditions, IX, 46. Hamilton, Alexander Biography, VIII. In the Federal Convention For representation proportional to free inhabitants, VII, 259. Speech for a central government, VII, 286-295. The abolishment of the States, VII, 302. The closer the Union the less danger to the small States, VII, « 804, The Powers of the Supreme Court, VIII, 31. The Policy of Protection (Report on Manufactures), VIII, 37-96. Hampden, John, V, 392. Hartford Convention Report, VIII, 134-148. Harvey, William Biography, VI, 5. An Anatomical Disquisition on the Motion of the Heart Blood, VI, 6. Hastings, Battle of, IV, 384. Hayne, Robert Biography, VIII, 237.° Against the Tariff, VIII, 205. The Doctrine of Nullification, VIII, 237, Heaven (See Immortality and Reli- gion) Helmholtz, Hermann von Biography, IX, 360. The Conservation of Bnergy, IX, 361. Henry, Joseph . Electricity from Magnetism, IX, 11. Henry, Patrick Biography, VII, 179. Virginia Resolutions of 1765, VII, 179. Against the Federal Constitution, VII, 246, 248. H Perakleitus Biography, II, 148. Extant fragments, II, 148-156. Herodotus Description of Egyptian Life (“First Hand Observations’), I, 80-108. Herschell, Sir William Biography and Discoveries, VI, 335. Discovery of Uranus, VI, 335. On Nebulous Stars, VI, 337. On the Proper Motion of the Sun and Solar System, VI, 347. Hertz Electric Waves, X, 215. Hesiod The Theogony (The Creation, gen- esis of the gods, conauest of Uranus, conquest of Cronos, Prometheus, Pandora, subjection of the Titans), II, 4. Works and Days (Prometheus, Pan- dora, four ages, rules of life), II, 27. Hippias and Hipparchus Aristotle’s account of, IT, 67. Hippocrates Biography, III, 286. Maxims, III, 286. Hobbes, Thomas Biography, VI, 93. Of Man (Motion the cause of all consciousness), VI, 94. The “Social Contract’ as the Basis of Society, VII, 19. Homer Descent of Odysseus to Hades, II, 35-49. Hooker, Thomas Review of Church Questions, V, 378. Hume Biography, VI, 185. Place in Philosophy, VI, 40. Against the Principle of Cause and Effect, VI, 185. Against Personal Identity, V1, 189. Hunter, John, VIII, 404. Huss, IV, 377. Hutton, James Biography, VI, 312. Theory, VI, 313-334. Huyghens, Christian Biography, VI, 141. The Wave Theory of Light, VI, 142- 150. . if Idealism Brahmans, I, 116-195. Xenophanes, II, 146-147, Parmenides, II, 156-160. Anaxagoras, IJ, 175-180, 20 I Idealism Pythagoreans, II, 185. Plato, II, 239-311. Aristotle, II, 352-363. Locke, VI, 101. Berkeley, VI, 172. Kant, VI, 201. Fichte, VIII, 318. Schelling and Hegel, VIII, 330. Immortality, Ideas of (See Soul, Hades, Religion, Philosophy) Chaldean, I, 22-25. Egyptian, I, 29-79. Brahman, I, 116-195, 208-218. Soul, I, 126, 154- 160, 185, 194, 217. Zor oaster, ie 371, Buddha The question of immortality not |... to be thought upon, I, 247. Accepted, however, the Brahman idea of Nirvana, and transmi- gration of Souls, I, 2238, 244, 265, 277. Confucius Avoided spiritual slibjects, I, 391, 399. Ancestor Worship, I, 384, 386, 409, ete, Greek Early ideas of immortality, ITI, 35. Pindar, II, 50. The Mysteries, II, 52. Thales, II, 139. Plato, Il, 249-311. Aristotle, II, 352-363. Epicurus (against personal im- mortality), Il, 427. Roman Cicero, III, 233-262. Lucretius (against), LII, 275-285. Aurelius, III, 416. Christian, especially Tertullian, [V, 21. St. Augustine, LV, 97. Arabian, IV, 265, 268, 272, 279, ete. Modern Luther, V, 127. Calvin, V, 141. Spinoza, VI, 63. Leibnitz, VI, 78. Wesley, VI, 362. Hume, VI, 189. Kant, VI, 40, 201. GENERAL INDEX I Institutions Chinese, I, 382-411, Greek Athenian, II, 54-105. Spartan, II, 105-135. Roman, III, 5-166. Middle Ages, Of the German, IV, 165. Early Church, IV, 111-122. Asceticism, III, 355-369; a 51-62. Monasticism (about 500 A. D.), IV, 128-165. Laws and Customs of the Franks (about 500 A. D.), IV, 177-188. Laws and Customs of the Anglo- Saxons (560-950), IV, 211-240, Arabian, IV, 240-299. . Feudal, IV, 300-318... The Church Empire, Of the, IV, 318-384. The Crusades, Of the, 1V, 335-350. Saxon and Norman compared (about 1100 A. D.), IV, 384. Norman, IV, 397-413. City, IV, 390. Guild, IV, 395. Medieval Political, V, 58-95. Modern Hindoo (1500), V, 26-41, Aztee (1520), V, 317-326. Among the Peasants of Germany (1625), V, 134-140. Church, Protestant views of Catholic (1620-1680), V, 119-127; V, 151-179. Indian (1637), V, 360-876. eel (17th century), VI, 155- 5 English Political (17th century), V, 391-480; VII, 5-16. Economic (18th century), VI, 392- 399, 399-427; VII, 177-165. English Political (18th century), VII, 55-165. American Colonial Political, VII, 166-245, The Condition of France before the Revolution, VII, 368-411. French Political, VII, 390-432. pepe et Political, 1787, WII, 246- 67. American Economie (1787-1800), VIII, 5-25. India (See Brahmanism and Budd- hism) Inoculation, WIIT, 404; X, 285, 309, 319. Inquisition, VY, 302. Institutions Babylonian, X, 184. Egyptian, I, 80-108. Jewish, I, 107. Brahman, I, 201-208. Buddhist, I, 233-245; I, 253-322. American Political (1787-1333), VIII, 26-291. Slave, IX, 46-97. American Political (1833-1860), IX, 42. The South in 1870, X, 124. Cuban before the Spanish-Ameri- can War, X, 135. Philippine, X, 147. . Social, X, 5-146. GENERAL INDEX 21 I Inventions Ancient, III, 305-310. Acid, IV, 278. Algebra, IV, 278. Convex lense, LV, 279. Gunpowder, IV, 369. Compass, V, 5. Printing, V, 5.) Telescope, V, 290. Barometer, VI, 117. Air Pump, VI, 118. Microscope, VI, 118. Electrical Machine, VI, 118. Calculus, VI, 79, 123. Pendulum Clock, VI, 141. Lightning rod, VI, 266. Steam engine, VI, 305. Spinning jenny, [X,421. Weaving loom, IX, 421. Life boat, IX, 422. Balloons, IX, 422. Voltaic battery, VI, 358. Cotton gin, IX, 422. Gas lighting, IX, 422. Vaccination, VIII, 404. Safety lamp, VIII, 301, LX, 424, Are light, VIII, 362, Percussion arms, [X, 423. Steamboat, IX, 424. Locomotive, LX, 424. Liquification of a gas, VIII, 390. Friction matches, IX, 426. Photography, IX, 426. Gunecotton, IX, 427, Telegraph, LX, 426, Reaper, IX, 428, Anaesthetics, [X,. 428. Spectrum analysis, IX, 389. _ Dynamo and motor, IX, 428, Bessemer steel, IX, 429. Typewriter, LX, 430. Telephone, IX, 430. Phonograph, IX, 431. Electric light (incandescent), IX, 431. X-Rays, X, 227. Wireless telegraphy, X, 243. Ishtar, I, 22-25. Isis, I, 37, J aackson, Andrew Biography, VIII, 274. In United States History, VIII, 28- 29. Benton on, VIII, 270, 273. Proclamation against Nullification, VIII, 275-285. Jefferson, Thomas Biography, VII, 230. A Summary View of the Rights of the British Colonies, VII, 230. J Jefferson, Thomas Account of the Passing of the Dec- laration of Independence, with the Arguments for and against it, VII, 235-241. ee Leader of the People, VII, 26, The Kentucky Resolutions, VIII, 97-1038. Jenifer, Daniel of St. Thomas In vi Federal Convention, VII, 9. Jesuit Constitution, V, 180. Jews, References on, I, 107. Johnson, William Samuel In the Federal Convention. Comparison of the Virginia and New Jersey plans, VII, 304. The national and state principles should be combined, VII, 317. Joule LG cahea a of Energy, IX, J ustinian Institutes of, III, 100-166, K Karl the Great (see Charlemagne). Katha Upanishad, I, 116-126. Kepler, John> ‘~ Biography, V, 308. Laws, Y, 309. erat of Astronomy, VY. 311- Galileo to, V, 292, 293. Khandogya Upanishad, I, 162-195. Kindergarten, IX, 402-410. King, Rufus In the Federal Convention. Against ayes and nays, VII, 251. Contribution not a proper basis of representation, VII, 259. On the choice of the Senate, VII, 264, Proportionate representation in the House, VII, 270. The States not sovereign, VII, 303. House should be chosen by the people, VII, 308. Against equality in the Senate, VII, 331. The large vs. the small States, VII, 334. On new States, VII, 348. For a national government, VII, 358. Kirchhoff Biography, IX, 389. Spectrum Analysis, IX, 389. 22 GENERAL INDEX K | it Koch Laws Biography, X, 309. Theory of Bacteria, X, 210. Koran, The, IV, 241-277. L La Grange Worked out the oscillations of the solar system, VI, 241. Lamarck Biography, VIII, 412. Hvolution by ‘‘Use’, VIII, 412. Langton, Stephen Biography, IV, 401. The Magna Carta, IV, 402. Lansing, John In the Federal Convention. That the Convention had no authority to do anything more than amend the Articles of Confederation, VII, 280. For equality in the House, VII, 311. Laplace Biography, VI, 349. Gren bdeow © Hypothesis, VI, 350- 358. Last ee of Buddha, Buddhist Gos- pel, I ; 203- 321. ee Biography, hig Mev og Place in chemistry, VI, 241. The Permanence of Matter, VI, 298. The Nature of Combustion, VI, 300. Respiration a Combustion, VI, 304. Laws (See also Institutions, Govern- ment, Constitution) Babylonian, I, 27, Jews (See Exodus, Leviticus, Num- bers, Deuteronomy, Old Testa- ment). Brahman Laws of Manu, I, 195-217. China Confucius, I, 382- 411, Greek Laws and institutions of the Spartans, II, 105-135. Lycurgus. Laws and institutions of the Athenians, II, 54-105. Draco (621 B. C.) Laws, II, 56. Solon (594 B. C.) Laws, II, 57-63. Peisistratus (560 B. C.), Changes of, II, 63-67. Hippias and Hipparchus (527- 510 B. C.). Changes of, II, 67-69. Cleisthenes (508 B. C.,), Laws of, II, 69-72. Pericles (460-429 B. C.), II, 75. Rome, Republic Appian’s review of the Roman contentions, III, 5. Origin of Roman Law, III, 9.— Justinian’s Digest. The Quaestor (before 509 B. C.), III, 52. The right of appeal to the people in capital cases, 509 B. C., III 12.—Cicero. The Tribunes, 494 B. C., III, 3, 30. The Decemvirs, 451-449 B. C., IIT, 18—, 15—. Fragments of the Twelve Tables, 449 B. C., III, 3—. Laws passed by the people as- sembled in tribes to be binding on all, 449 B. C.—Dionysius Halicarnassus. Rome Renewal of the sacredness of the Tribunes, 449 B. C., III, 16. Right of intermarriage—the Can- uleian Law—B. C. 445, III, 17-25. The Military Tribunes, 444 B. C., Til, 24. The Censors established, 443 B. C., III, 34. A regular army established, the troops paid, and winter cam- paigns begun, 406-400 B. C., III, 25-30. The Praetorship, 367 B. C., III, 46 The Licinian Law, 361 B. C., compromising the land ques- tion; one consul a pleb; inter- est deducted from the princi- pal of debts; slave labor, and amount of land held limited, III, 35-46. All offices thrown open to Plebs by the Publilian laws, 336 B. C. Orders of commons bind- ing on all. III, 47. © The censorship, 312 B. C.; also public road building by Ap- pius Claudius. Priesthood opened to eect ie 300 B. C., III, 48. Hortensian Law, 287 B. C., thats all laws passed by the plebs alone binding on all. III, 53. —Aulus Gellius. The Bacchanalian revelers re. pressed, 186 B. C., III, 65-77. Strictures on dress and food, 145 B. C., III, 54-65. The Gracchi, 183-121 B. C., III, 77-90. Mismanagement of the provinces, III, 77-90. GENERAL INDEX 23 L Laws Rome after the Punic Wars, by Polybius. An analysis of the Roman government, military institutions, ete., III, 166-193. Rome and Carthage compar- ed. Transalpine Gaul made a pro- vince, 120 B. C. The Social War, 90-89 B. C. Allies admitted to citizenship, III, 90, 91. Cicero (105-43 B. C.), ITI, 215-262. The Principles of Law, III, 216- 228 The Best Forms of Govern-. ment, III, 228-233. Rome, Empire Growth of luxury at the close of the republic, III, 193.—Lucan Augustus. The empire established under the guise of a republic, 27 B. C., III, 92.—Dio Cassius. Hlections taken from the people and given to the senate, 14 PGS 1 ape WM a pe Luxury, Efforts to control. It in- creased from the time of Actium (31 B. C.) to Tiberius; then began to decline among the senators, though the ex- travagance of the emperors increased through the time of Nero (54 A. D.); and with Vespasian a period of par- simonious living began, last- ing about 100 years. III, 194—., Growth of royal power under Vespasian, 69 A. D., LIT, 93. Nerva, care of indigent children, 96-97 A. D., LIT, 94. Trajan, 98 A. D. The empire at its widest extent. The pat- ernalism of the empire, IV, 7. Marcus Aurelius, 161 A. D., IV, 9. Caracalla extends citizenship to . all inhabitants of the empire 212 A. D.) in order to include all in certain taxation, III, 95. Diocletian (284 A. D.). An abso- lute monarchy, III, 95-99. The. laws and customs of the Germans by Tacitus, IV, 165. Constantine the Great founds Constantinople (828 A. D.). Theodosius (378-395). Code, IV, 69. Justinian, Eastern Emperor, codi- fies existing Roman laws, 527-565. The Institutes of Justinian, the yous of Roman law, III, 100- L Laws Middle Ages The Salic Law, the laws of the Franks, LV, 177-188. The laws of the Anglo-Saxons, of King Aethelbirht of Kent (560-616), of Hlothhaere an@ Hadric (6738-686), of Wihtraed (690-725),.0f Alfred (871-924), Edward (901-924), with Guth- rum the Dane, of Aethelstan (294- ?), Edmund and Edgar, TV, 211-240. Feudalism. The disintegration of Europe left the barons each to govern his own | county with but slight depen- dence on the higher duke or king. Forms of dependence of the serfs and freeman, IV, 300. Private jurisdictions, IV, 301. Homage and fealty, IV, 303. Mutual duties, IV, 306. Authority of the lord, IV, 307. Compurgation, LV, 308. Ordeals, IV, 309. Wagers of battle, IV, 315. Crusades, Privileges of the Crusaders, IV, 345. Mediaeval Saxons and Normans by William of Malmesbury, IV, 384. Rise of the Cities, IV, 390-397. English city customs. Typical charters. A typical guild, Norman Judicial Customs, 1166 An Ds, TV, 397: The Magna Charta, 1215 A. D., IV, 401. Marsilius of Padua (latter half 13th century). The beginning of the modern theory of the state, IV, 423. Modern Peasant demands in Germany, (1525), V, 134. Cortez: Account of the Aztec laws and customs in 1520, V, 317-326, Morton: Customs of the Indians in 1637, V, 360-376. The First Written Constitution, Connecticut (1638), V, 354-360. The HEnglish Revolution (1628- 1649), V, 391. et a of Right (1628), V, First Writ of Ship-Money, Specimen, (1635), V, 396. Pym paaiae Strafford (1641), V, 399. mal \ 24 GENERAL INDEZ L Laws The case of parliament in the Grand Remonstrance (1641), 403-430. Supremacy of parliament, Habeas Corpus Act (1679), VII, 8. The Bill of Rights (1689), VII, 10 Mercantile laws, VI, 155. Physiocratic, VI, 392-399. United States Tax laws as causes of the Ameri- ean Revolution, VII, 55-246. The forming of the Constitution, VII, 246-367. Laws of France before and dur- ing the Revolution, Vit, 368- 430. Hamilton, Powers of the Supreme Court, VIII, 31. Financial measures, VIII, 30, 37-96. Alien and Sedition Laws and the Kentucky and Virginia Resolu- tions, VIII, 96. Jefferson, On the question of the consti- tutionality of expansion, VIII, 112. Quincy, Unconstitutionality of expan- sion, VIII, 122. Marshall, John (1755-1835), The Constitutionality of expan- sion, VIII, 118. The Supreme Court Superior to ie State ae cakes VIII, 1, Na ili Law Superior to State aw. Also the Doctrine of Implied Powers, VIII, 163. The Supreme Court the Final Judge of the Construction of the Constitution, VIII, 186. Thomas Benton (1'782-1858), The Revision of the Tariff in 1828 and the rise of the Doctrine of Nullification. (In- cluding selections from Rowan, Webster, Benton, pir and McDuffie), VIII, John Calhoun (1782-1850), Address on the Relation of the State and the General Gov- ernment, VIII, 211-236. Robert Hayne (1791-1840), The Doctrine of Nullification, VIII, 237, Daniel Webster (1782-1852), L Laws United States. The Supreme Court the Final Arbiter, VIII, 247. Nullification Ordinance (1832), VIII, 270. Andrew Jackson on Nullification, VIII, 275 Henry Clay, Compromise of 1833, VIII, 285, Harriet Martineau: Laws against Abolition in the Slave States, IX, 81. McDuffie: Slave laws, IX, 91. Compromise of 1850, IX, 117. Interstate commerce laws, X, 52. Leeuwenhoeck Biography and discoveries, VI, 119. Observations on Animalcula, VI, 119. Leibnitz, Gottfried, Wilhelm, Biography, VI, 78. Place in philosophy, VI, 39. The Monadology, VI, 79-92. Leo I, IV, 125. The Petrine Theory of the Papacy, IV, 125. Leukippos purrs of the Atomic Theory, Licinian Law Livy on the, III, 35-46, Lincoln Biography, IX, 177. Pore in United States History, IX, Against “Squatter Sovereignty” and the Dred Scott Decision, IX, 178. Linnaeus, Carolus (Carl von Linné) Biography, VI, 247. A Dissertation on the Sexes of Plants, VI, 248-261. Locke, John Biography, VI, 101. . Place in philosophy, VI, 89. Ideas (All ideas from sensation and reflection), VI, 102. Ideas and Things (Relations be- tween), WI, 106. Substance (An assumption to ac- count for ideas. As clear an ie of spirit as of body), VI, The Basis of Property is Labor, VI, 164-171. The Origin of Political Societies and the Right of the People to Revolt, WII, 25-35. Logic, II, 345. Loeb, X, 254. Louisiana, VIII, 108-133. GENERAL INDEX 25 L Loyola Biography, V, 179. he Neen ee of the Jesuits, V, 180- Lucan Growth of Luxury at the close of the Republic, III, 193. Lucretius Biography, III, 262. The Atomic Theory, IIT, 262. On Immortality, III, 275-285. Luther, Martin Biography, V, 111. Ninety-five Theses, V, 112. -— Against Catholicism, V, 119. Justification by Faith, V, 127. Luxury In Greece, II, 118. In Rome, III, 193. Lycurgus, II, 105-135. Lyell, Charles Biography, IX, 214. Uniformity in the Past Changes of the Harth, IX, 214. M McCormick, IX, 428. MeDuffie, Geo. Biography, TX, 83. Against the Tariff of 1828, VIII, —» 206. The Rights of Slavery, IX, 88. Machiavelli Biography, V, 58. The Government of a Prince, V, 59-94, ~ Macrosty, H. W. Engish State Socialism, X, 101. Madison, James Biography, VII, 249. Debates in the Federal Convention, VII, 250-367. In the Federal Convention. Against equality of representa~- tion, VII, 259, 260, 312, 319, 360. For the election of the House by " the people, VII, 262. On the election of the Senate, VII, 264. Against the election of the Senate by the State legislatures, VII, 266, 268, 332. ‘Against restricting the Senate in money bills, WII, 274. For a national government, VII, 295-302, 312, 319. — Less danger of encroachment by the General Government than by the States, VII, 306, 312. The real danger lay in difference between the Northern and Southern States, VII, 329, 361. M Madison, James Opposed, eommitment, VII, 339. Against #estri¢aing the origina- tion of money bills to the House, VII, 340. Virginia Resolutions, VIII, 103. Magellan, Ferdinand Biography, V, 41. Account of the Genoese pilot of Magellan’s voyage round the world, V, 42-57. Magna Carta Account of the, IV, 401. Text (in English), IV, 402-412, Magnetism (See Physics). Maimonides, Moses Biography, IV, 281. Method of Proving God’s Bxis- tence, IV, 282. A Parallel between the Universe and Man, IV, 284. Propositions Admitted, IV, 2938-299. Malebranche Place in philosophy, VI, 38. “We see all things in God”, VI, 38, Malpighi Discoveries, VI, 118. Malthus, Thomas B. Biography, VIII, 293. Hssay on the Principle of Popula- tion, Vill, 294. Mann, Horace Lessons from Europe, IX, 410. Mansfield, Harl of Biography, VII, 77. In Favor of the Right to Tax America, VII, 77-86. Manu,’ Laws of, I, 195. Marat’ In nacen at Revolution, VII, 372- Marcus Aurelius Biography, III, 406. Persecution of the Christians un- der, IV, 9. ThougLts, ITI, 406. Marduk, I, 9-15. Marriage (See Celibacy), Marsilius of Padua Biography, IV, 423. Theory of the State, IV, 423-432. Martin, Luther In the Federal Convention. Independence, sovereignty, and eee) of the States, VII, 303, The General Government should be formed for the States, not individuals, VII, 309. Against federation unless on an equal footing, VII, 332, 336, 357. Against per capita vote in the Senate, VII, 367. 26 GENERAL INDEX M Martin, Luther Left the Convention, VII, 247. Against the Constitution, WIT, 248. Martineau, Harriet Biography, LX, 62. Comte’s Positive Philosophy (trans- lation), VIII, 345. The Morals of Slavery, LX, 63. Maruts, To the, I, 110, 111, 112, 114. Marx, Karl Biography and place in economics, M7; 10, Manifesto of the Communist Party, Go bi is Mason, George In the Federal Convention Necessity of a government that could operate on individuals, VII, 258. For the election of the House by the people, VII, 261, 308. For the appointing of the Senate by the State legislatures, VII, 269. Necessity of some plan of general government, VII, 345. New States ought to be subject to no discrimination, VII, 346. On the compromise, WII, 350. Against three Senators, VII, 367. Against the Constitution as not strong enough, VII, 248. Matches, IX, 426. Materialism Leukippos and Demokritos, iL, 187. Hpicurus, If, 426. Lucretius, II, 262, 285. Hobbes, VI, 93. Matter (See Philosophy). Maxwell, James Clerk, Biography, X, 208. Blectricity a Wave in the Either, X, 209. Mayer, J. R. Conservation of Energy, TX, 370. Medicine (See Natural Sciences, Biol- ogy, Chemistry) Hippocrates (460-377? B. C.), Greek medicine, ITI, 286. Galen (131-210? B. C.,), Roman medicine, III, 291; VI, 9. The Arabian physicians, Avicenna, Geber, Alhazen, etc., IV, 279. Paracelsus (1491-1524), Alchemist, VI, 5. Servetus (1511-1553), VI, 6. Caesalpinus (1519-1603), VI, 6. Vesalius (1514-1565), The new anatomy, VI, 5. Fabricius, VI, 7. M Medicine Harvey (1578-1657), ay circulation of the blood. VI, Asellius (1622), The lacteal circulation, VI, 117. Riidbeck (1649), The lymphatics, VI, 118. Boerhaave (1668-17388), Organic chemistry and medicine, VI, 242. Hunter (1728-1809), Scientific surgery, VIII, 404. Jenner (1749-1823), Vaccination, VIII, 404. Galvani (1737-1798), Hlectricity and medicine, VI, 358. Bichat (1771-1802), Doctrine of tissues, VIII, 396. Bell (1774-1842), The Nervous Circle, VIII, 425. William Morton Anaesthesia (1846), IX, 428. Theodore Schwann (1810-1882), Cell Theory, IX, 233-259. von Helmholtz (1821-1895), Theories of sight, IX, 360. Pasteur (1822-1895), On Fermentation, X, 320. ReaD for Hydrophobia, X, Lord Lister (1827- ). Antiseptic doctrine, X, 319. Koch (1848- ), Theory ef Bacteria, X, 319. Behring (contemp.), Antitoxin, X, 285. Melanchthon, V, 151. Mahe raat Confession, V, 152- Melissos Biographical note, II, 182. Extant Fragments, II, 182-185. Mendeléef Biography, X, 254. The Periodic Law, X, 254, Mendoza — Sine ser: of St. Augustine, V, 327- Methodism, VI, 362. Microscope, VI;.118. Mirabeau In the French Revolution, VII, 372. The State of Affairs, VII, 417. Mohammed Biography, IV, 240. The Koran, IV, 241-277. Molecular Theory, VIII, 384. Monasticism Buddhist, I, 255, 282-286. Early Christian, IV, 128, 165. Luther on, V, 119. Augsburg Confessionen, V,, 151-179. Money (‘See Economics), . GENERAL INDEX 27 M Monopoly Ancient, V, 392, 419; VII, 55. Recent, X, 5-124, Monroe Doctrine, VIII, 288. Monroe, James Biography, VIII, 288. In United States History, VIII, 28. The Monroe Doctrine, VIII, 288. Montaigne, Michel de Biography, V, 198. On the Education of Children, V., 199-232. Montesquieu Biography, VII, 35. The Separation of the Legislative, Executive, and Judicial Pow- ers, VII, 36. Montfort, Simon de ‘The House of Commons, IY, 401. Morris, Gouveneur In the Federal Convention For a supreme national govern- ment, VII, 258, 260, 354. Hor appointment of a Senate for life by the Executive, VII, 336. Against considering the States, VII, 342. For apportionment by property and keeping the balance of power in the Atlantic States, WII, 345. Against restricting the origina: tion of money Dills to the House, VII, 350, 351. Against equality in the Senate, VII, 355 For three Senators from a State, VII, 367. Morse The Telegraph, IX, 426. Morton Customs of the Indians (16387), V, 360-376. Mun, Thomas Biography, VI, 157. The Mercantile Theory, VI, 157-163. ' Place in economics, VI, 155. Mysteries, II, 52. N Nakiketas, I, 116. Natural Sciences In tracing the development of the natural sciences we have not attempted to separate them un- til they were actually consider- ed apart. Chaldea (400-500 B. C.), I, 9. Named the 12 signs of the zodiac. Discovered the cycle of 223 lunar months in which eclipses recur in regular order, II, 1388. N Natural Sciences Knew about squares and cubes of numbers from 1-60. Built in brick. Egypt (4000-500 B. C.), I, 28. Mensuration and art of building shown in the pyramids. Marked the length of the year. Greece The Greeks made many brilliant scientific guesses, but without proof, the true could not be told from the false. Thales (about 585 B. C.) knew something about mensuration. Foretold eclipses by means of the Babylonian. cycle of 223 lunar months. Marked solstices and equinoxes, II, 138. ‘Anaximander (610- about 540 B. C.) thought the heavenly bodies wheels of fire. Rain moisture drawn up by the sun. — Living creatures first came to exist in the sea. Man evolved from lower animals, shown by the weakness and length of his infancy. The earth cylindrical. II, 140-143. Made map of the worid and sun-dials. Anaximenes (latter part 6th cen- tury B. C.) thought all things came from air, Ii, 148-145. Empedokles: (ist half 5th cen- tury B. C.) the structure of the pores, II, 168. The senses, II, 174. Trees the first living things, II, 173. Anaxagoras (ist half 5th cen- tury B. C.) thought the earth flat, the sun a stone the size of the Pelopennesus. The moon gets her light from the sun. Planets move. Cause of eclip- ses, the intervention of the earth or moon, II, 175-180. The Pythagoreans thought the earth round and to go around the sun, II, 185. Leukippos and Demokritos (460?- 360? B. C.), The atomic theory, II, 187. Medicine ote (420 ?), ILI, 286- Showed that diseases come not from the anger of the gods, as formerly thought, but from natural causes. Astronomy Eudoxus (406- ? ). 28 GENERAL INDEX N Natural Sciences Studied the movements and return of the planets, III, 288. Zoology Aristotle (384-322 B. C.), Made great zoclogical collec- tions, II, 344. Graeco-Roman Science Astronomy Aristarchus (8rd century B. C.) held the Copernican theory that the earth revolves on its own axis and about the sun, III, 288. Mathematics (Geometry) Euclid (800 B. C.?) founded geometry, ITI, 288. Physics Archimedes (287-212 B. C.), dis- covered the principle of the lever, specific gravity, the water-serew, etc., thus found- ing mechanics, III, 288-290. Astronomy Hrastosthenes (276- ? B. C.,), measured the circumference of the earth, III, 290. Hipparchus (160 ? B. C.), cat- alogued the stars, III, 290. Noted the precession of the equinoxes. General scientific theory Lucretius (98-55 B. C.), the atomic theory, III, 262-275. Pliny the Hider (23-79 A. D.), Ill, 293. The Scientific Ideas of the Time. . The Inventors of Various Things. Astronomy Ptolemy (70-150 A. D.) Theory of the heavens, III, 290. Medicine and Anatomy Galen (131 A. D.—?) vastly in- creased the knowledge of the body, Iil, 291. Distinguished and _ studied veins and arteries, WI, 9. Arabian Chemistry (Alchemy), Geber (Djafer) (830 ?- ?). Alchemist; made nitric and sulphuric acid, IV, 278. Astronomy Albategnuis (879 ?-?) calculated the length of year with great exactness, IV, 278. Mathematics (Algebra), N Natural Sciences Graeco-Roman Ben Musa (300 ?- ?) introduced algebra and Indian numer- als; afterwards brought in- to Hurope by Gerbert, Pope Sylvester II, IV, 278. Physics Alhazen (1000 ? - ? ). Opties, refraction of light, used convex lenses, IV, 279. Mediaeval Roger Bacon (1214-1292), On Experimental Science, IV, 369. Flavio Giopa (1300 ? - ? ), Invented mariner’s com- pass, V, &. Fifteenth Century (1400-1500) Invention and Discovery Guitenburg invents printing, 1488, V, 5. Columbus discovers America (1492). Journal of his first voyage, V, 7-26. Vasco de Gama rounds Africa to Indie ‘i498), V, 26-41, Sixteenth Century Astronomy Magellan rounds world. (1519- 1522). Account by Genoese pilot, V, 41-58. These geo- graphical discoveries set- tled the question of the rotundity of the earth. Copernicus (1473-1548), argued that the earth goes round the sun. Though the know- ledge of the time was not sufficient to prove this, yet tae theory steadily grew, V, Medicine ‘ Paracelsus (1492- ?). Alchemist, but turns alchemy to aid of health. Introduced antimony, VI, 5. Servetus (1511-1553), VI, 6. Caesalpinus (1519-1603), VI, 6. Vesalius (1536-1564), Corrected Galenic ideas of anatomy by observation of the human skeleton itself. Held the ancient belief that arteries contain vital spirits. VI, 5. Fabricius ( ? - ? ) discovered valves in veins. This led ee to Harvey’s discovery, sds Physics Baptiste Porta (1545- ? ). In- vents the camera obscura. GENERAL INDEX 29 N Natural Sciences Dr. Gilbert (1540-1603). Made the first few experiments on electricity. Found that eertain substances attract when rubbed. Seventeenth Century General Theory Francis Bacon (1561-1626). All science based on experi- ment. nO Novum Organum, V, 234- 89. Astronomy (and Physics) Galileo (1564-1642), V, 290-308. Laws of motion. Thermometer invented. Discovered mountains of moon, the moons of Jupiter, and the phases of Venus. For the Copernican System, V, 292-302. Condemnation by Inquisition, V, 302-306. Recantation, V, 306-307. Tycho Brahe (1546-1601). Com- piled the Rudolphian Tab- les, V, 308. Kepler (1571-1630), V, 208-315. Planets move in elipses, V, 309. Areas swept over in equal times are equal, V, 309. Cubes of distances proportio- nal to the squares of the times, V, 310. The Principles of Astronomy, V, 311-315. Medicine Harvey (1577-1657), The circulation of the blood discovered, VI, 7. Medicine and Biology Asellius discovers the lacteal circulation, 1622, WI, 117. Physics Clatis Rtidbeck found that the lymphatics -furnished the heart with material for new biood (1649), VI, 117. Malpighi and Grew discovered the air celis in the lungs, the capillary cells, the cells in plants, ete., VI, 118. Anthony von lLeeuwenhoeck (1632-1723), VI, 119-123. Dis- covered the red corpuscles in the blood; the animalcu- lae in water; the capillary circulation. Also an inves- tigator of insects. Torricelli invented the barom- eter (1644), VI, 117. N Natural Sciences Guericke invented the air-pump (1650), VI, 118. Pascal proved that it is the weight of the air that eauses the rise of the mer- cury (1656), VI, 118. Guericke invented first electri- cal machine (1676), VI, 118. Leibnitz invented differential Calculus, VI, 79F.">, Newton (1642-1727), Vi, 123-141. Invented method of fluxions, VI. 123. The Composition of Light, WI, 124-134, The Theory of Gravitation, WI; 185-141. Applied the theory to ex- plain the tides, ete. (1682). Roemer estimated the velocity of light to be 199,000 miles a second (1676). Proof, Vi, 118, 146-148. Huyghens (1609-1695), V1, 141- 150. Discovered the rings and the sixth satellite of Saturn (1655). Invented the pendulum clock (1657). The Wave Theory of Light (1690), VI, 142-150. Chemistry The Beginning of Chemistry, VI, 150-151. Robert Boyle (1627-1691), YI, 152-154. Law of compressibility of gases. Stahl (1660-1734). The phlogis- ton theory that combustion is the driving off of a “‘fire- element”, Vi, 151. Highteenth Century Biology Boerhaave (1668, Dee. 31—1738), VI, 242-247, Studied the absorption by plants of substances from the soil, VI, 240, 242. Physiological conceptions, VI, 242-247. Linnaeus (1707-1778), Wi, 247- 265. New System in botany. The sex system in plants, VI, 248-261. Geology Werner and the “Neptunist” theory in geology, VI, 3138. 30 GENERAL INDEX N Natural Sciences Hutton and the “Vulcanist”’ theory in geology, Vi, 312- 334. Physics Franklin (1706-1790), VI, 261- 272. Hlectrical experiments. Pos: itive and negative electric- ity, VI, 262-266. The identity of electricity and lightning. The light- ning rod, VI, 266-269, (1747). The kite experiment, WI, 270- 272. Joseph Black (1728-1754), VI, 272-278. The discovery of “fixed air’ (carbonic acid gas), 1753, VI, 272-278. Latent heat, VI, 272. James Watt (1736-1819). Ap- plied the principle of latent heat to the steam engine and invented the separate condenser, VI, 305. Chemistry Priestley, VI, 279. The discovery of oxygen. Scheele (1742-1786), VI, 284-290. Discovery of oxygen. Cavendish (1781-1810), Vi, 290- 297. The composition of water. Lavoisier (1743-1794), VI, 297- 305. The Permanence of Matter. The Nature of Combustion. Respiration a Combustion. Lavoisier overthrew the phlogistern theory and be- gun scientific chemistry. Astronomy William Herschel (1738-1822), VI, 335-349. Discovery of Uranus (1781), VI, 335-337. Nebulous stars, VI, 337-347. Discovered two of the satel- lites of Uranus, two more of Saturn, and binary stars revolving around a common center, VI, 335. That the whole solar system is rushing toward the con- stellation of Hercules, VI, 347-349. Laplace (1749-1827), VI, 349-358. Worked out the movements of the solar system in de- tail. h. Natural Sciences The Nebular Hypothesis, VI, 350-358. Physics Galvani (1790), noted that elec- tricity contracted the mus- cles of a frog’s leg, VI, 358. Volta (1745-1774). Invented the voltaic baitery, (1800), VI, 358-361. Medicine and Biology Edward Jenner (1749-1829). Theory of Small Pox Vacci- nation, 1789, VIII, 404-412. Bichat (1771-1802). The Doctrine of Tissues, VIII, 396-404, Physics Count Rumford (1753-1814). The Nature of Heat, VIII, 435-441, Thomas Young (1773-1829). On the Interference of Light Waves, VIII, 442. Nineteenth Century Chemistry John Dalton (1766-1844), VIII, 368 The Atomic Theory (about 1801-1804). On the Constitution of Bodies, VIII, 368. On Chemical Synthesis, VIII, 370. Gay-Lussae (1778-1850), VIII, 375. On the Combination of Gas- eous Substances with each other (Law of Multiple Pro- portions), 1808, VIII, 375. Humphry Davy (1778-1829), VIII, 361. Discovery of alkalies by elec- trolysis, VIII, 362. Avogrado (1776-1865). Law of equality of molecules, VIII, 384-389. Dulong and Petit, VIII, 384. Relation of specific heat and atomic weights (1818). Biology Lamarck (1744-1829). Evolution by “Use,” 412-418, Cuvier (1769-1832), VIII, 418. Believed in the Permanence of Species. The Mutual Relations of Or- goneed Beings, VIII, 419- Vill, GENERAL INDEX 31 N Natural Sciences ; Sir Charles Bell (1774-1842). The Relation between Motor and Sensory Nerves. On the Nervous Circle, VIII, 425. Physics Haraday (1791-1867). Liquification of 1823, VIII, 390. Oersted. Identity of electricity and magnetism, IX, 5. Joseph Henry. Chlorine, Electrical experiments, IX, 10. Faraday. Electricity from Magnetism, IX, 17-21. Biology Charles Lyell (1797-1875). Uniformity in the past changes of the earth, IX, 214-233. Theodor Schwann (1810-1882). Cell Theory (1839), IX, 233- 259, Physics Meyer, Colding, and Joule. The Conservation of Hnergy, IX, 370. Hermann 1894). The Conservation of Energy (1847), IX, 360-389. Evolution Herbert Spencer, Progress: Its Law and Cause (1857), IX, 259-300. Charles Darwin (1809-1882). National Selection (1858), IX, 300-344, A. R. Wallace. National Selection, IX, 300. Ernest Haeckel. Fundamental Law of the Ev- olution of Organism (1866), IX, 344-360. Chemistry Kirchloff and Bunsen. Spectrum Analysis (1860), IX, 389-400. Inventions, IX, 420. Philology, Laws of Letter Changes. The Aryan Lan- guages, X, 367. Biology Broca, X, 337. Hilzig, X, 337. . Ferrier, X, 338-358. Helmholtz (1821- N Natural Sciences The Localization of Func- tions in the Brain. Weismann, X, 285-309. Theory of Heredity. Devaine, X, 284. Pasteur, X, 349-336. Fermentation. Inoculation for Hydrophobia. Koch, X, 309-319. Theory of Bacteria. Cohn, X, 285. Behring, X, 285. Chemistry Mendeléeff, X, 254-270. The Periodic Law. Lockyer, X, 270-283. Chemistry of the Stars. Von t’ Hoff, X, 253. Loeb, X, 254. Physics Maxwell, James Clerk, X, 209. Electricity and light vibrations in the Ether, Hertz’ Waves, X, 215-226. Marconi’s wireless telegraphy, X, 248-253. Rontgen, X, 227-243. The X-Rays. Kelvin, X, 254. Crookes. Crookes, X, 358-367. Telepathy. Nebular Theory Herschell, VI, 335, 337. Kant, VI, 201. Laplace, VI, 349. Neo-Platonism (See Philo Judaeus, (Vol. I11) and the Arabian philoso- phers (Vol. IV). erva Decree for care of indigent chil- dren, III, 94. Netherlands Declaration of Independence, V, 189. Newton, Sir Isaac Biography and discoveries, VI, 123. The Diffusion of Light, VI, 124. The Theory of Gravitation, VI, 135. Nile Hymn to, I, 79. Nirvana (The Indian Heaven, assimi- lation with Brahma, the infinite), I, 122, 126, 156, 160. Normans And Saxons, I¥, 384. Cities, IV, 390. Laws, IV, 397. Magna Carta, IV, 401. Mea under Ball and Tyler, IV, 32 GENERAL INDEX N Nullification (See Government and United States). Kentucky and Virginia Resolutions, VIII, 96. Marshall, John, VIIT, 161-195. Benton, VIII, 196. Calhoun, VIII, 211-236. Hayne, VIII, 237. Webster, VIII, 247. Ordinance of, VIII, 270. Jackson, VIII, 274. Compromise of 1833, VIII, 285. See Secession. 0 Odysseus Descent to Hades, Account of by Homer, II, 35-49. Origen Biography, LV, 29. Principles of Faith, IV. 29-35. Osiris Worship of, I, 29-79, P Paine, Thomas Biography, VII, 209. Common Sense, VII, 209-229. Painting (See illustrations and bio- graphics on respective tissue pages) Pandora And the entrance of evil, II, 16, 27. Paracelsus Turns alchemy to the aid of medi- eine, VI, 5. Parliament The House of Commons founded 1265, IV, 401. In the Puritan Revolution (1628- 1641), V, 391-430. Supremacy of, VII, 5. And the’ American Colonies, VII, 55, 165. Parmeniides Biography, II, 156. Extant Fragments, II, 156-160. Pascal Proved it is the weight of the air that causes the mercury to rise, VI, 118. Pasteur Biography, X, 319. On Fermentation, X, 320. theca n for Hydrophobia, X, Patterson, William In the Federal Convention The New Jersey plan for a con- federation, VII, 277, 281. On the compromise report, VII, 344, 354. Peasant Revolt in Germany, V, 134. Penitential Psalms, I, 25. P Pericles Aristotle on, II, 75. Periodic Law, X, 254. Permanence of Matter, VI, 290, 297. Persia, I, 354. Persecutions, IV, 5. _-—~ Petition of Right, V, 893) Petrine Theory of the Papacy. By Leo I, IV, 125. By Gregory VII,, IV, 320. Petty, Sir William ' Economic ideas, VI, 156. Phillips, Wendell Biograpny, TX, 104. The Murder of Lovejoy, IX, 105. Philo Judaeus Biography, ITI, 355. The Creation of the World, III, 355. Pre-Christian Ascetics, III, 364. Philology Bopp, X, 367. Grimm, X, 367. Verner, X, 367. The Consonants, X, 368. The Vowels, X, 371. The Deviation of English from , Latin, X, 373. Philosophy Jewish, See Proverbs, Job, Ecclesiastes, Book of Jesus, Son of Sirach. Zoroaster (between 15th and 10th century B. C.) The dual principle in the uni- verse, I, 354-381. The Brahmans, The Upanishads, showing the later philosophical development of the religion. The Brahmans gradually reduced their many natural gods to one, and iden- tified that one in nature with the self of the individual. This knowledge was made essential to salvation and _ jealously guarded by the caste. The idea of the identity of the universe with the self, I, 126, 154-160, 185, 194, 217, ete. See the Upanishads through- out. Katha Upanishad, the secret dis- closed by Death to Nakiketas, I, 116-126. Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, the gradual unfolding of the Brah- man belief by Yagnavalkya, I, 127-161. Khandogya Upanishad, other un- foldings of the secret, ete., I, 162-195. The Creation, I, 195. The Ages, I, 200. GENERAL INDEX 33 hd Philosophy Transmigration of souls, and re- wards and punishments, I, 208- 227. Confucius (551-478 B. C), . Ethical Rules of Life, I, 382-411. Buddha (5th century B. C.), Buddha objected to the caste system of the Brahmans and . made a better life hereafter depend on right conduct and purposes rather than merely on knowledge. He still retained the Brahman idea of an imper- sonal God (Brahma) and the transmigration of souls. All of Buddha’s sermons are ethical in their nature. Foundation of the Kingdom of Righteousness, containing the “eight-fold path,” I, 220-224. On Knowledge of the Vedas, against the Brahmans, I, 225- 245, All the Asavas, the ideas that should be cherished or abon- doned, the rules of conduct, against the soul, etce., I, 245-253, The Last Days of Buddha, the Life of Buddha, the Buddhist Gospel, I, 253-321. Dhammapada, the choicest Bud- dhist thoughts and sayings, I, 322-353, Greece, The first step in Greek philosophy was made by asking what is the permanent, unchanging reality behind the _ shifting changes of nature. The early philosophers touch on many things, but this question runs | through them all. Thales (about 585 B. C.), thought this source of all things to be water, II, 138-140. Anaximander (610 B. C.—after 456 B. C.) thought there was an infinite but indeterminate sub- stance back of things which produced things by separating into its opposites. He thought man came from other animals in the beginning, arguing from the length and helplessness of human infancy, II, 140-148. Anaximenes (latter half of 6th eentury B. C.) thought the world substance to be infinite, but air, II, 143-145. Pp Philosophy Pythagoras (about 570 B. C. ? ). Most of the legends about Pythagoras are mythical; the ‘sayings that seem most surely to go back to him are like the taboos of a ‘‘medicine man,” II, 145, 146. Xenophanes (about 571 B. C.— after 479 B. C.) believed the universe to be one unchange- able God, and satirized the Greek idea of many human-like gods. II, 146-148. All things from earth and water. Herakleitos (around 500 B. C.), thought the characteristic of the world-substance to be a continual flux from opposite to opposite, and the source of all things to be fire, II, 148-156. Parmenides (515 B.C.—440 B.C.?) believed the universe to be without beginning or end in time, immovable and unchange- able. Hence in his developing the idea of the unity of the uni- verse to its limit, he denied any real change at all, II, 156-160. Hmpedokles (first half of 5th eentury B. C.) tried to combine these theories. He sought to find in water, air, fire, and earth, the four elements of things, with love and hate as ine causes of motion, II, 160- (2. Anaxagoras (1st half of 5th cen- tury B. C.) thought there are as many elements as there are qualities, with Mind ruling all the mixture, II, 175-180. Zeno (489 B. C.— ? ) reinforced the idea of the unity of the uni- verse held by Parmenides, by showing the difficulties involv- ed in the idea of many elements and plurality, Ii, 180-182. Melissos, the general of Samnos, victor over the Athenian fleet in 440 B. C., argued for the un- reality of our perceptions and the paradoxical unity of all things, IT, 182-185. The Pythagoreans thought the constant number relations were the true reality of the universe, IT, 185. Protagoras (480 B. C.— ?) thought all knowledge is merely a question of personal opinion, and hence true science impos- sible, II, 186, 201—. "masini fu é 34 7 GENERAL INDEX P Philosophy Leukippos and Demokritos (460 ? B. C.— 360 ? B. C.) developed the idea of the atom and of the universe being developed from the accidental rushing together of purposeless atoms, II, 187. Socrates (470 B. C.—399 B. C.) began, with the Sophists, to turn philosophy to the discus- sion of life and happiness. He believed that happiness would be brought by virtue, virtue se- cured by knowledge, and that things may be grouped into classes and defined, and a gene- ral statement made of the class that will hold good. Hence the goal of science would be classi- fication and definition, [1, 187, 191-139. Plato (429 B. C.—348 B. C.) The possibility of science, IT, 191-239, The doctrine of Ideas, II, 239- 249, The Ideas as final causes, and the question of immortality, II, 249-311. The philosophy of the state, II, 311-338. Diogenes the Cynic (412 B. C.— 323 ? B. C.) believed the great- est good to be freedom from wants; hence he rebelled against all civilization, II, 339- 348. Aristotle (384-343 B. C.) The relation of the general to the particular (logic), II, 350. The interrelations of things (the categories), II, 345-350. The examination into existence, culminating in the proof of God, II, 352-363. The basis of ethics; happiness, the greatest good, is the re- sult of the activity of the soul in accordance with its greatest excellence; virtues, habits; the law of the mid- dle path, II, 364-382. ireriient of the state, II, 388- Developed Rhetoric. Zeno the Stoic (350 ? B. C.—258 ? B. C.) thought the chief good to be a virtue that by calm sub- mission to natural law, by do- ing one’s duty, rose superior to pleasure, trouble, desire, or fear, II, 418-425. Epicurus (841 ? B. C.—270 B. C.) P Philosophy The chief good the highest form of pleasure, II, 426-430. Roman, Cicero Scipio’s Dream, III, 233-241. The Contempt of Death, III, 241-262. Lucretius. The atomic theory. Philo Judaeus (20 B. C.—40 A. D.) Neo-Platonism. The Creation of the World. Pre-Christian Ascetics, IV, 355- 369. Seneca (4 B. C.—65 A. D.) The Stoic philosophy of Peace of Mind, III, 328-354. Epictetus (? -117 A. D.) Stoic, Philosopher. Discourses, III, 392-407. Aurelius “Thoughts’—the Stoic Philoso- phy. Arabian Avicenna (Ibn Sina), (980-1037) doctor, and neo-Platonist, IV, 279. Eternity of universe and iden- tity of universal intelligence in man. Avicebron (1028-1058), poet and neo-Platonist. The Will of God the final cause of the world, IV, 280. Averroes (1126-1198), commenta- tor of Aristotle, IV, 281. Moses Maimonides (1135-1204) at- tempted to combine Jewish eat! and Aristotle, IV, 1. Method of proving God’s exis- tence, IV, 282-284. A Parallel between the Uni- verse and Man, IV, 284-293. Sean esata admitted, IV, 293- Scholasticism St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274). ee of God’s Hxistence, IV, Theory of Knowledge, IV, 363. Modern . Giordano Bruno (1550 ? - 1600). Mystic. Believed the universe a@ great animal. Burned at the stake in 1600 for openly teaching the Copernican sys- tem. Francis Bacon (1561-1626). The philosophical doctrine of experiment, renter Organum, V, 234- GENERAL INDEX 35 P Philosophy Descartes (1596-1650), VI, 41. Meditations, VI, 42-63. The new starting point for philosophy. Principle of certainty; ‘Cogito, ergo sum;” dualism between matter and mind. Geulincx (1625-1669), VI, 38. Matter and mind run in har- mony as do two clocks, be- cause controlled by their maker, Malbranche (1638-1715) “We see all things through God.” VI, 38-39. Spinoza (1632-1677), V1, 63-78. Transformed Descartes dual- ism into a monism. God the only substance, all else manifestations, Leibnitz (1646-1716), VI, 78-93. The Monadology; idea of the monad and pre-existing harmony. Hobbes (1588-1679), VI, 93-101. The beginning of the sensualis- tic psychology. All con- sciousness Can be reduced to motion. John Locke (1632-1704), VI, 101- 116. All ideas from sensation and reflection. No innate idea or unconscious thought, VI, 39, 101-116. Things and the soul are taken for granted by us as a ground for our ideas. As clear an idea of spirit as of matter, Highteenth Century Berkeley (1685-1753) Idealism, VI, 172. Principles of Human Know- ledge, VI, 173-184. Hume (1711-1776) Scepticism, Hconomic Ideas, VI, 185. Against the Principle of Cause and Hffect, VI, 185. Against Personal Identity, VI, 189. Kant (1724-1804) The matter of knowledge from experience, the form from the mind. Space and time and the categories are mental forms. We can know only phenomena, and only phe nomena are bound by the natural laws we Enow. God LLL A be Philosophy and the Soul are things in themselves, not so bound, but free. Biography, VI, 201. Place in philosophy, WI, 40. The Prolegomena, VI, 203. Critique of Pure Reason, VI, 207- 239. Nineteenth Century Fichte (1762-1814) Idealism, VIII, 318. Doctrine of Knowledge, VIII, 319-330. T. B. Malthus (1766-1834) Principle of Population, VIII, 293-305. Shelling (1775-1854), VIII, 330. Hegel (1770-1831), VIII, 330. The Universe the Realization of the World Spirit. The Development of Spirit, VIII, 330. David Ricardo (1772-1823) Theory of Rent, VIII, 305. Schopenhauer (1788-1860), WIII, 337. ; Kant’s thing-in-itself is natura} will. | The Will in Nature, VIII, 338. Auguste Comte (1798-1857), VIII, 344, Time at hand for a “positive’’ philosophy. The Positive Philosophy, VIII, 345. Helmholtz, Mayer, Colding, Joule: The Conservation of Energy, IX, 360-389. Evolution, IX, 214-260. Photography, 1X, 426. Physiocrats, VI, 156, 392. Physics (See Natural Sciences and Astronomy) Egypt, Mensuration and art of building shown in the pyramids. Greek, Leukippos and Demokritos (460 ?- 360 B. C.) The atomic theory, II, 187. Archimedes (287-212 B. C.), dis- covered the principle of the lever, specific gravity, the water-screw, etc., thus found- ing mechanics, III, 288-290. Hrastosthenes (276- ? B. C.) meas- ured the circumference of the earth, III, 290. Roman, Lucretius (98-55 B. C.), the atomic theory, ITI, 262-275. ig Physics Pliny the Elder (23-79 A. D.). The Scientific Ideas of the Time. The Inventors Things. Arabs, Alhazen (1000 ? - ?), Optics, refraction of light, used convex lenses, IV, 279. Mediaeval, Roger Bacon (1264-1292), au Experimental Science, IV, Flavio Giopa (1300 ? - ?), Invented mariner’s compass. Modern, Baptiste Porta (1545 - ?). Invents the camera obseura. Dr. Gilbert (1540-1603). Made the first few experiments on elec- tricity. Found that certain substances attract when rub- bed. Francis Bacon (1561-1626). All science based on experi- ment. rerio Organum, V, 234- Galileo (1564-1642), VY, 290-308. Laws of motion. Thermometer invented. Torricelli invented the barometer (1644), VI, 117. Guericke in vented the air-pump (1650), VI, 118. Pascal proved that it is the weight of the air that causes the rise of the mercury (1656), VI, 118. Guericke invented first electrical machine (1676), VI, 118. Leibnitz invented differential cal- eulus, VI, 79. Newton (1642-1727, VI, 123-141. Invented method of fiuxions, Vi, 128. The Composition of Light, VI, 124-134. Phe Theory of Gravitation, VI, 135-141. Applied the Theory to explain the tides, ete. (1682). Roemer estimated the velocity of light to be 190,000 miles a sec- ond (1676), Proff, Vi, 118, 146- 148. Huyghens (1609-1695), VI, 141-150. Discovered the rings and the sixth satellite of Saturn (1655). Invented the pendulum clock (1657). of Various a A GENERAL INDEX P Physics The Wave Theory of Light (1690), VI, 142-150. Franklin (1706-1790), V1, 261-272. Hlectrical experiments. Posi- tive and negative electricity, VI, 262-266. The identity of electricity and lightning. The lightning rod, 266-269. (1747). The kite experiment, VI, 270- 272. Joseph Black (1728-1754), VI, 272- 278. The discovery of “fixed air’ (carbonic acid gas. 1753. VI, - 272-278. Latent heat, VI, 272. James Watt (1736-1819), VI, 305- 312. Applied the principle of latent heat to the steam en- gine and invented the separ- ate condenser. | Galvani (1790), noted that elec- tricity contracted the muscles of a frog’s legs, VI, 358. Volta, (1745-1774). Invented the voltaic battery (1800). VI, 358-361, Count Rumford (1753-1814) The Nature of Heat, VIII, 435- 441, Thomas Young (1773-1829) On the Interference of Light Waves, VIII, 442. Humphry Davy (1778-1829), VIII, 361. Discovery of alkalies by elec- trolysis, VIII, 362. Faraday (1791-1867) Liquefication of Chlorine, 1323, VIII, 390. Electricity from Magnetism, IX, 17-21. Meyer, Colding, and Joule: The Conservation of Energy, IX, 370. Hermann Helmholtz (1821-1894) The Conservation of Energy (1847), LX, 360-389. ~ Maxwell, James Clerk, X, 208. Electricity and light vibrations in the Ether. is Hertz’ electric waves, X, 215. Marconi’s wireless telegraphy, X, 243. Rontgen, The X-Rays. | Kelvin, X, 254. Crookes. Telepathy, X, 358. GENERAL INDEX 37 P Physiology (See Biology, Medicine and Natural Science). Pierce, William In the Federal Convention A citizen not of a small State but of the United States, VII, 322. Pinckney, Gen. Charles Cotesworth In the Federal Convention Against the House alone originat- ing money bills, VII, 275, 352. That the State legislatures con- trol the election of Representa- tives, VII, 307, 309. Proposed a compromise com- mittee, VII, 335. Against adjournment before drafting a constitution, VII, 365. Pinckney, Charles. In the Federal Convention. On committee to prepare rules, VII, 251. Plan for a Constitution. For appointment of Senate by State legislatures, VII, 269. Evils of the Confederation must be remedied, VII, 285. Against equality in Senate, VII, 335, 357. For counting the blacks the same as the whites, VII, 348. Pippin Donation of, IV, 203. Pisistratus - Aristotle on, Il, 63-67. Pitt (See Chatham) Plato Biography, II, 199. The Possibility of Science (Theaet- tus), II, 191. The Doctrine of Ideas (Parmen- ides), II, 239. Phaedo, II, 249. The Ideal State, II, 311. Origin and Hducation, II, 311. Community in the State, II, 328. Plebeians, III, 5-91. Pliny the Elder Biography, III, 298. Account of the World and Its Hle- ments (Ideas of Time), III, 294. The Inventors of Various Things, III, 305-310. Pliny the Younger On the Christians, IV, 7. Plutarch Biography, III, 370. The Training of Children, III, 370- 391, Lycurgus, II, 105-135. Political Economy (See Economics). . Political Science (See Government, Science of). ; P Polybius Biography, III, 166. An Analysis of the Roman Govern- ment, III, 166. The Military Institutions of the Romans, III, 172. Rome and Carthage, III, 186. Pope (See Religion). Praetorship established, ITI, 46. | CAS poe Lie Sy Presbyterian, V. Rae sgh. Se Priestley, Joseph | BMT a at Biography, VI, 278. The Discovery of Oxygen, VI, 279. Printing, V, 5. Procter, Redfield Biography, X, 135. Conditions in Cuba, X, 135. Protagoras Biography, IT, 186. Opinions, I, 137, 186, 201-239. Protection and Free Trade (see Free Trade and Protection). Psychology (See Philosophy and Bio- logy) Thomas Aquinas (1225 ? -1274), Theory of Knowledge, IV, 368. Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), All consciousness reducible to motion, VI, 98. John Locke (1632-1704) On sensation, ideas, stance, VI, 101. Berkeley (1685-1753), Principles of Human Knowledge, VI, 178. Hume (1711-1776), Against Cause and Bffect, VI, 185. TTA Personal Identity, VI, OMEN} ° a Kant (1724-1804), A io Prolegomena, VI, 203. Critique of Pure Reason, VI, 207.. Fichte (1762-1814), Doctrine of Knowledge, and sub- Vili 319. Comte (1798-1857), Law of progress, VIII, 345. Lotze, Fechner, and Wundt, X, 337. Broca, X, 337. Hitzig, X, 337. Ferrier, Localization of Functions in the Brain, X, 338-358. Crookes, Telepathy, X, 358-367. Ptolemy Theory of the heavens, III, 290, Publie ownership, X, 5-124, Publilian Laws, III, 47. Punic Wars, Iii, 166. Puritan Revolution, VY, 391-430. 38 GENERAL INDEX gc Pym In the Puritan Revolution, V, 392. Speech against Strafford, V, 399. riagwecs Remonstrance, V, 4038- Pythagoras Biography, II, 145. Sayings, ITI, 145. Pythagoreans Introduction, II, 185. Number Theory, II, 185. Q Quesnay Biography, VI, 392. General Maxims, YI, 392. Quaestor, III, 52. Quintilian Biography, III, 312. The Ideal Education, III, 312. R Ra, I, 33-79. Randolph, Edmund In the Federal Convention Object. of the Convention, VII, 268, 254. Defects of the Confederation, VII, 254. reas for the Constitution, VII, On method of representation, VII, 259. For a small Senate, VII, 263. Necessity of national power over individuals, VII, 285. On the compromise committee, VII, 338, 349. Against equality in the Senate, VII, 364, Read, George In the Federal Convention That the question of representa- tion be postponed, VII, 260. That the Senate be appointed by the Executive, VII, 266. Favored restriction of Senate on money bills, VII, 274. Proposed system not national enough, VII, 319. Reformation The Reformation, V, 102. Erasmus (1466 ? -1536), V, 103-110. Translated the New Testament. Satirized the foibles of the church and clergy. Benefice-Hunting. The Penitent Virgin. ycnie Mebane (1483-1556), V, 111- Ninety-five Theses, V, 112. Against Catholicism, V, 119. R Reformation Justification by Faith, V, 127. The Peasant Revolt (1525), V, 134. The Twelve Articles (Demands) of the Peasants, V, 185. John Calvin (1509-1564), V, 140. Doctrine of eternal election, V, 141-150. The whole case of the Protestants as given to the world in the Augsburg Confession (1530), V, 151-179. Loyola (1491-1556), V, 179. The Jesuit Constitution, V, 180- 188. Revolt of the Protestant Nether- lands, 1566-1609, V, 189. Religion Chaldea Babylonian Account of Creation, Oa ; The Chaldean Flood Story, I, 16. Legend of Sargon, 3800 B. C., I, 21 Ishtar’s Descent into Hades, I, 22, Penitential Psalms, I, 25. Hgypt Worship of Osiris in Book of the Dead, I, 29, illustrating the Egyptian belief in the life after death, the intense ma- teriality of that life, the power of assuming various forms, the judgment of the dead, rules of life, ete. Hymn to the Nile, I, 79. The Jews See Genesis, the Psalms, and the Prophets. The Brahmans Vedic Hymns, showing the early personification and worship of the forces of nature: To the Unknown God, I, 109. To Vata (The Wind), I, 110. To Agni (Fire), and the Maruts (Storm Gods), I, 110. To the Maruts, I, 111. To the Maruts, I, 112. To Rudra (Lightning), I, 113. To Vayu (The Wind), I, 114. To Agni and the Maruts, I, 114. To Rudra, I, 115. The Upanishads, showing the later philosophical develop- ments of the religion, The Brahmans gradually reduced the many gods of nature to one, and identified that one in nature with the self of the individual. This knowledge was made essential to salva- tion and jealously guarded by the caste. GENERAL INDEX 39 R Religion Katha Upanishad, the secret dis- closed by Death to Nakiketas I, 116-126. Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, the gradual unfolding of the Brahman belief by Yagnaval- kya, I, 127-161. Khandogya Upanishad, other un- foldings of the secret, eice., I, 162-195. The Creation, I, 195. The Ages, I, 200. Transmigration of souls and re- wards and punishments, I, 208-217. Persia Zoroaster (somewhere between the fifteenth and tenth cen- tury B. C.) The Gathas—the Good and Evil Principles, I, 354-381. China Confucius (551-478 B. C.) More ethical than religious, I, 384, 386, 391, 399, 409. Buddha Buddha (fifth century B. C.), ob- jected to the caste system of the Brahmans, and made a better life hereafter depend on right conduct and pur- poses rather than on merely knowledge. He still retained the Brahman idea of an im- personal God, (Brahma) and the transmigration of souls. Foundation of the Kingdom of Righteousness, containing the “eight-fold path,” I, 220-224. On Knowledge of the Vedas, against the Brahmans, I, 225- 245. All the Asavas, the idea that should be cherished or aban- doned, the rules of conduct, pecan the soul, ete., I, 245- 53. The Last Days of Buddha, the Life of Buddha, the Buddhist Gospel, I, 253-321. Dhammapada, the choicest Budd- hist thoughts and sayings, I, 322-3538. Greece Hesiod, ITI, 3-34. The Creation, II, 4. Genesis of the gods, II, 6-26. Conquest of Uranus by Cronos, aD 7%. Conquest of Cronos by Zeus, II, 13. The theft of fire for man by Prometheus, II, 15, 27. R Religion Woman (Pandora) and the en- trance of evil, II, 16, 27. Subjection of the Titans, II, 17. The Four Ages, II, 28. Rules of life, II, 32. Ideas of the Future Life Descent of Odysseus _ into Hades, and his description of Hades, II, 35-49. BRlysium, II, 49-52. The mysteries, II, 52. Thales (585 B. C.), IT, 139. Pythagoras (about 510 B. C.), founded a religious order that for a time held the political power in Croton, II, 145. Greek anthropomorphism satiriz- ed by Xenophanes (571 ? -470? B. C.), I, 146. Herakleitos, II, 150. Transmigration of souls believed in by Hmpedokles (ist half 5th century B. C.), II, 160. Protagoras (480 B. C.—?) was banished for doubting the ex- istence of the gods, II, 186. Socrates (470-399) was executed for introducing strange gods. On immortality, II, 249-311. Plato (B. C. 429-348). The Phaedo, II, 249-311. Aristotle (B. C. 384-348). Basis of ethics, II, 364-382. Proof of God’s Existence, II, 352-363. Zeno, Stoicism, IT, 418. Rome The Roman religion was closely related to the Greek, and was later indentified by the Ro- mans with the Greek. As in the case of the Brahmans and Greeks, their gods origi- nally represented natural forces. They developed but few myths about them, but later adopted the Greek. Pe- culiar Roman religious insti- tutions were the household gods called the lares, the judging the wills of the gods through auspices, ete. ieee eet eat (186 B. C.), III, 65- q. Cicero (105-43 B. C.) On immortality, III, 233-241. ye Contempt of Death, III, Lucretius (98-55 B. C.) On immortality, III, 275-285. Philo-Judaeus (20 B. C.—40 A, D.) ~ 40 R Religion The Creation of the World, ILI, 355-364, Pre-Christian Ascetics, LII, 364- 369 Seneca (4 B. C.—65 A. D.), Peace of mind, III, 328-354. Persecution under Nero (64 A. D.), IV, 6. Pliny, Trajan and Hadrian on the Christians, IV, 7. Epictetus (?—117 A. D.). Discourses, IIT, 892. Mareus Aurelius (1461 A. D.). Thoughts, ILI, 406. Persecution under Marcus Aure- lius, A. D. 177, IV, 9. Hary Church Tertullian (150—220-240). The eee of the Soul, IV, 21- 9 Origen (186-258). Principles of Faith, IV, 29-35. Cyprian, (200-254). The Unity of the Church, LV, 35-51. Persecution under Valerian (254), IV, 18. Persecution of Diocletian, IV, 14. Edict of Toleration by Galerius, 303 A. D., IV, 17. Synod of Hivira, IV, 111. The problems of the church. Decree of Milan, 313 A. D., IV, 19. Origin of Asceticism, IV, 51-62. St. Athanasius (298-373). Exposi- tion of the Faith, IV, 71. Nicene Creed (825 A. D.), IV, 122. Athanasian Creed, IV, 128. Suppression of heathenism and heresy, LV, 62-71. St. Ambrose to Valentinian, IV, Enactments from the Theodosian code, LV, 69. St. Augustine (354-4380). God’s Foreknowledge and Man’s Free Will, IV, 75. Original Sin, IV, 90. Redemption, IV, 97. Faith, Hope and Love, IV, 102. Leo I, and the Petrine Theory of the Papacy, (440-461), IV, 125. Middle Ages — _ Monasticism, IV, 128-165, by St. Benedict. Customs and Rules. Conversion of the Franks, 496 A. D., IV, 202, by Gregory of Tours. Conversion of Kent,*596 A. D., IV, 190 (by Bede). Conversion of East Angles, 627 A. D., (by Bede), IV, 194. GENERAL, INDEX R Religion Victory of the Roman Church in Britain, 652 A. D., TV, 196 (by Bede). Mohammed (570-632). Era of Mo- hammedanism in Asia Minor, Africa, Spain and Turkey be- gins. . The Koran, IV, 241-277. Donation of Pippin, 756 A. D., IV, 208. Donation of Karl the Great, 774 A. D., IV, 204. Avicebron (1028-1058). God’s Will the “Final Cause” of the Universe, IV, 280. Moses Maimonides (1135-1204). Method of Proving God’s Exis- tence, [V, 282. A Parallel between the Uni- verse and Man, IV, 284-293. Gregory VI11., 1073-1085, IV, 320. Declarations of the Church, sim- “ony, lay investiture, celibacy, annual confession, transub- stantiation, LV, 323. Gregory VII. vs. Henry IV., IV, 323 The Crusades, IV, 3385-350. William of Tyre on Peter the Hermit. Urban II, Speech at Clermont, 1095. The Truce of God. Privileges of the Crusaders. Account of the Start. St. Thomas Aquinas, 1225 ? -1274 A. D. The philosophy of the ehurch. Scholasticism on the existence of God, IV, 359. Theory of knowledge, IV, 3863. John Wycliffe (1320 ? -1384). . Conclusions, IV, 379. Wycliffe and Pope Gregory XI, IV, 380-388. » Modern Times The Reformation, V, 102... Hrasmus (1466 ? -1536), V, 103-110. Translated the New Testa- ment. ‘ Satirized the foibles of the church and clergy. Benefice-Hunting. The Penitent Virgin. . mre Luther (1483-1556), V, 111- Ninety-five Theses. (1517), ¥, Against Catholicism, V, 119. - Justification by Faith, V, 127. The Peasant Revolt (1525), V, 134. The Twelve Articles (Demands) of the Peasants, V, 185. GENERAL INDEX 41 R Religion John Calvin (1509-1564), V, 140. Doctrine of eternal election, V, 141-150. The whole case of the Prote- stants as given to the world in the Augsburg Confession (1630), V, 151-179. Loyola (1491-1556), V, 179. The Jesuit Constitution, V, 180 -188. Revolt of the Protestant Nether- lands, 1566-1609, V, 189. Wesley (1703-1791, VI, 362-377. The Early Methodists (1739). General Rules. Doctrine of Justification. Voltaire (1694-1778). Struggled against intolerance in reli- gion and government. On Toleration, VI, 377-391. Renaissance, V, 5, 103. Republics (See Athens, Plato, Aris- totle, Rome, Cicero, Sovereignty of the People, United States, etc.) Republican Party founded, IX, 144. Ricardo, David Biography, VIII, 305. Place in economics, VIII, 292. Theory of Rent, VIII, 305-316. Rights, Bill of, VII, 10. Robespierre In the French Revolution, VII, 372- 373. Roemer Proof of the velocity of light, VI, 118, 146-148. Roentgen X-Rays, X, 227. Roman Law (See Law and Institu- tions). Rome (See Volume III, entire, and Volume IV, 5-125. See Govern- ment, and Institutions, Religion, Philosophy, Science. Also the Chronological Index). Rousseau Biography, VII, 47. The “Contrat Social’, ‘WII, 47%. In Education, VII, 47; IX, 21. Rtidbeck, Olaiis Material for new blood furnished by the lymphatics, WI, 117. Rudra, To, I, 118, 115. Rumford, Count Biography, VIII, 4384. Nature of Heat, VIII, 435-441, Rutledge, John In the Federal Convention That representation be in accor- dance with contribution, VII, 270, 346. R Rutledge, John Iravored election of Senators by State legislatures, VII, 308. Against sending for other dela- gates, VII, 324. That something, however imper- fect, should be accomplished, VII, 366. shia t p Ss 4 —_ See dm “4 my c t “the Franks, IV, 177-188. Sanatkumara, I, 185. ve Satyakama, I, 162. Saxons (See Anglo-Saxons). Scheele, Karl Wilhelm Biography, VI, 284. Chemical Treatise on Air and Fire, VI, 284-290. Schelling, Friedrich W. J. von Biography, VIII, 330. Place in philosophy, VIII,330. Scholasticism Moses Miamonides (1135-1204), IV, 281. St. Thomas Aquinas (1225 ? -1274), IV, 359. Roger Bacon (1214-1292), IV, 369. Montaigne (1533-1592) against, V, 198. Frances Bacon (1561-1626), V, 234. Schopenhauer, Arthur Biography, VIII, 337. The Will in Nature, VIII, 338. Sculpture (See Illustrations, espec- ially Vols. II, III, and V. Secession (See Government. Devel- opment of Political Ideas in the United States, Wols. VIII and IX). Idea of State Sovereignty Kentucky and Virginia Resolu- tions, VIII, 97. Northern tendencies toward Josiah Quincy, VIII, 122-1384. The Hartford Convention, VIII, 134-148. Marshall in favor of Federal pow- ers, VIII, 161-196, Nullification Benton on the rise of, VIII, 196. Calhoun: Address on the Relation of the States and the General Government, VIII, 211-236. Hayne: The Doctrine of Nullifi- cation, VIII, 237-246, Webster: The Supreme Court the Final Arbiter, VIII, 247, The Ordinance of, VIII, 270. Teens Proclamation, VIII, ‘ LA a, hy wh ; sen va e.. \ ty Ay “4 , Salic Law—the laws and ‘customs of 42 GENERAL INDEX Ss Secession The Compromise of 1833. Slave conditions (Hall and Marti- neau), LX, 46-83. Geo. McDuffie. Rights of Slavery, EX, 83-94. Garrison. The Liberator, IX, 95. The Constitution a Covenant with Hell and an Agreement with Death, IX, 97. No Union with Slaveholders, IX, 98 Wendell Phillips, IX, 104. Calhoun: On Texas and Slavery, IX, 111. siege The Compromise of 1850, IX, William H. Seward. The Higher Law, IX, 122. Stephen A. Douglas. Squatter Sovereignty, IX, 182. Appeal of the Independent Dem- oa Sumner, Chase, etc., IX, Chief Justice Taney. The Dred Scott Decision, IX, 153. Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865). Against Squatter Sovereignty and the Dred Scott Decision (1858), IX, 177. Jefferson Davis. The Senate Resolutions, IX, 196. The Platforms of 1860, IX, 199. Douglas Democratic. Southern Democratic. Republican. Constitutional Union. Secession, IX, 208. Ordinance. South Carolina’s Statement of the Case. Seneca Biography, III, 328. Peace of Mind, III, 328-354. Seward, William Henry Biography, IX, 122. ye in United States History, IX, The “Higher” Law”, IX, 123. Sherman, Roger In the Federal Convention Thought House should be elected by the State legislatures, VII, 261, 308. ‘Also the Senate should be elected by the State legislatures, VII, VII, 264, 265. Opposed election by the people, VII, 268. For proportionate representation in the House and equal in the Senate, VII, 270, 353, 358. S Sherman Against restricting the Senate on money bills, VII, 275. Equality in suffrage between rich and poor necessary, VII, 315. The Congress had not power to enforce its provisions, VII, 329. For the compromise, VII, 356. That the government would act as partly national and partly federal. WII, 362. Sieyés, Emmanuel Joseph Biography, VII, 394. “What is the Third Estate?” VII, 395. Skepticism Hume, VI, 185. Slavery in the United States In the Federal Convention, 248, 276; IX 127, 128. Basil Hall. Slave Conditions (1827), IX, 46. Harriet Martineau. Morals of Slavery, IX, 62. Geo. McDuffie. | ape Rights of Slavery (1835), LX, 33. Vil, Garrison. The Liberater, IX, 9b/ The Censtitutien a ; “Cevenant with Death and an Agreement. with Hell IX, 97. one Union with Slaveholders, IX, 8 In Support of the American Anti- Slavery Society, IX, 99. Wendell Phillips. The murder of Lovejoy, IX, 104. John Calhoun. Texas and Slavery, IX, 111. Clay. Compromise of 1850, UX, 117. William Henry Seward. The Higher Law, [X, 122. Stephen A. Douglas. “Squatter Sovereignty,” IX, 132. Sumner, Chase, etc. Appeal of the Independent Dem- ocrats, IX, 144. Chief Justice Taney. The Dred Scott Decision, IX, 153. Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865). Against Squatter Sovereignty and the Dred Scott Decision (1858), IX, 177. Jefferson Davis. The Senate Resolutions, IX, 196, The Platforms of 1860, IX, 199. Douglas Democratic. Southern Democratic. Republican. Constitutional Union, GENERAL INDEX 43 S Slavery in the United States Secession, IX, 208. Ordinance, South Carolina’s Statement of the Case. Smith, Adam Biography, VI,°399. The Principle of the Commercial or Mercantile System’ (against), VI, 399-427. The Colonies and Free Trade, VII, 117-165. Influence, VII, 19, 58; VIII, 292. Social Compact Theory. Hobbes, VII, 19. Locke, VII, 25. Rousseau, VII, 46. Socialism, X, 5-124, (See Government Economics, Insti- tutions, Law, Education, Social- ism, etc.) Socrates Biography, II, 187. The Possibility of Science, II, 191- 239, See Plato, entire. Solon Aristotle on, II, 57. Sociological Poems, II, 57-63. Soul, The (see Immortality) Spaight, Richard Dobbs In the Federal Convention On Rules, VII, 252. For choosing of Senate by legis- latures, VII, 253. Spartan Institutions, II, 105-135. ‘Spencer, Herbert Biography, IX, 259. Progress; Its Law and Cause, IX, 259-300. Spinoza, Benedict ~ Biography, VI, 63. Place in Philosophy, VI, 39. Ethics, VI, 64. Stahl, VI, 151. State, The (see Government) State and Church Rome and Harly Christians, IV, 5- 21; 62-71. Pippin, IV, 203. Karl the Great, IV, 204. ear VII., and Henry IVY., IV, Marsilius of Padua, IV, 423, Reformation, V, 102-198. Treaty of Westphalia, V. State Rights (see Government, Con- stitution, Secession). State Sovereignty (see Gaia ment, Constitution, Secession). Steam Engine, VI, 305. . Stephens, Alexander Vice-President of the Confederacy, ix, 44, 46. S Stoic Philosophy (see Philosophy; also Zeno, Seneca, Aurelius, Hpic- tetus). Strafford In the Puritan Revolution, V, 391- 430 Strong, Caleb In the Federal Convention For the commitment, VII, 338. Kor the compromise, VII, 359. Sumner, Charles Appeal of Independent Democrats, IX, 45, 144. Sumptuary Laws Suppression of Heathenism and Heresy (see Religion). Under the Roman Empire, IV, 62- 71. Cyprian (200-254). The Unity of the Church. Synod of Elvira, IV, 111. St. Augustine, IV, 75. Leo I., IV, 125. Conversion of Barbarians, IV, 190- 196, State and Cuurch, IV, 318. Galileo, V, 302. In the Netherlands, V, 189. Voltaire on Toleration, V, 372. Surgery Antiseptie. Brain. Svetaketu, I, 169, 177. Synod of Elvira—the problems of the early Church, IV, 111, A fy Taxation (See Economics). Telegraph, IX, 426. Telephone, LX, 480. Telescope, VY, 290. Tertullian Biography, IV, 21. The Witness of the Soul, IV, 21-29. Thales Biography, II, 138. Sayings, II, 138-140. Theaetetus, II, 191-239. Theodosian Code, IV, 69-75. Theosophy See Brahmanism and Buddhism, especially. Tiamat, I, 9-15. Titans, II, 17. Cena invented the barometer, VI. Hs Bf Trade Unions and Guilds, IV, 390, X, 5-52, 101-124. Trajan On the Christians, IV, 7. Transmigration of Souls EHepytians considered it a boon sub- ject to magical control after death, I, 29-79. 44 GENERAL INDEX fy Transmigration of Souls Brahman ideas of as a reward or punishment, I, 208-218. Tribunes, III, 3, 16, 24, 30, 77. Trusts (See Monopolies). Turgot Biography, VII, 390. In the French Revolution, VII, 369. On Accepting Office (His Program), VII, 391. Twelve Tables Cicero on the, III, 11. Fragments of the, III, 9. U Uddalaka, I, 181. Universities, Medizeval, IV, 350. United States (see Government). Upakosala, I, 97, 165. Upanishads, I, 108, 116-195. Uranus, II, 7. Urban II. Speech at Clermont, IV, 338. V Vaccination, VILI, 404. Valerian, IV, 138. Vata, To, I, 110. Vayu, I, 114, 162. Vedas, I, 108, 109-116. Buddha on Knowledge of the, I, 225. Verner’s law, X, 367, 370. Vesalius Work in anatomy, VI, 5. Vespasian Growth of Royal Power under, III, 3 93. Decree, III, 93. — Virchow Volta.. Biography, WI, 358. New Galvanic Instrument, VI, 358. Voltaire Biography, VI, 377. On Toleration, VI, 377. WwW Wallace, TX, 300. Walpole Washington, VII, 248, 250; VIII, 25. Washington, George In the Federal Convention Chosen president, VII, 250. Watt, James Biography, VI, 305. Invention of the Steam Engine, VI, 305-312. : Wave Theory Of Light, VI, 141, 442. Of Electricity, X, 208-227. Wealth (see Economics). WwW Webster, Daniel Biography, VIII, 246. In United States History, VIII, 29. On the Tariff of 1828, VIII, 199. The Supreme Court the Final Ar- biter, VIII, 247-270. Werner, VI, 313. Weis rorann, Au , Wesley, John X85 Biography, VI, 362. The Early Methodists, VI, 363. | General Rules of the Society, VI, 365. ; The Doctrine of Justification, VI, 367-377. Williamson, Hugh In the Federal Convention Preferred a small Senate, ,VII, 265. States would remain equally sov- ereign, VII, 311. On new States to the westward, VII, 312. On compromise, VII 338, 344. Against restricting the Senate on money bills, VII, 367. For a per capita vote in the Sen- ate, VII, 367. William of Tyre vie ash of Peter the Hermit, IV, Wilson, James In the Federal Convention That the House should be drawn immediately from the people, VII, 262, 308. Thought the Senate should be elected by the people, VII, 264, — 265, 267, 315. Contrasted the two plans, VII, 282. The States should be preserved in a subordinate position, VII, 302. ' The States not independent of each other, VII, 304. More danger of encroachments by the States than by the Gen- eral Government, VII, 305. Against equality in the Senate, 315, 330, 354, 356, 361. On the compromise committee, VII, 339, 349. Against restricting the Senate on money bills, VII, 350, 351, 352. Winterbotham, W. Conditions in the United States (1790), VIII, 15. ; Wundt, X, 337. Wycliffe Biography, IV, 379. Conclusions, IV, 379: And Pope Gregory XI., IV, 380. GENERAL INDEX WwW Z Wythe, George Zeno the Stoic In bee Piney Convention, VII, Bicerapny ir 418! v4 The Stoic Philosophy, II, 418-425. Yagnavalkya, I, 127-161. Zeus conquers Cronos, II, 18. Yates, Robert 7, he Ti II, 1 Agaimeeithe Constitation, VIET 247, ico one 249. Zoology (See Biology). Young, Thomas Zoroaster . Biography, VIII, 442. ¢ On. the Interference of Light The Gathas, I, 354-318. Waves, VIII, 442. 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