The so-called new stars, otherwise known as temporary stars or novae, present interesting considerations. These are stars which suddenly flash out at points where previously no star was known to exist; or, in a few cases, where a faint existing star has in a few days become immensely brighter. Twenty-nine new stars have been observed from the year 1572 to date; 19 of them since 1886, when the photographic dry plate was applied systematically to the mapping of the heavens, and 15 of the 19 stand to the credit of the Harvard observers. This is an average of one new star in two years; and as some novae must come and go unseen it is evident that they are by no means rare objects. Novae pass through a series of evolutions which have many points in common; in fact, the ones which have been extensively studied by photometer and spectrograph have had histories with so many identities that we are coming to look upon them as standard products of evolutionary processes. These stars usually rise to maximum brilliancy in a few days: some of the most noted ones increased in brightness ten-thousand-fold in two or three days. All of them fluctuate in brightness irregularly, and usually in short periods of time. Several novae have become invisible to the naked eye at the end of a few weeks. With two or three exceptions, all have become invisible in moderate-sized telescopes, or have become very faint, within a few months. Two novae, found very early in their development, had at first dark line spectra, a night later bright lines appeared, and a night or two later the spectra contained the broad radiation and absorption bands characteristic of all recent novae. After the novae become fairly faint, the bright lines of the gaseous nebula spectrum are seen for the first time. These lines increase in relative brilliancy until the spectra are essentially the same as those of well-known nebulae, except that the novae lines are broad whereas the lines of the nebulae are narrow. In a few months or years the nebular lines diminish in brightness, and the continuous spectrum develops. Hartmann at Potsdam, and Adams and Pease with the 60-inch Mount Wilson reflector, have shown that the spectra of the faint remnants of four originally brilliant novae now contain some of the bright lines which are characteristic of Wolf-Rayet stars.[2]
[2] After this lecture was delivered Adams of Mount Wilson reported that in November, 1914, the chief nebular line (5007A) and another prominent nebular line (4363A) had entirely disappeared from the spectrum of Nova Geminorum No. 2, whereas the second nebular line in the green (4959A) remained strong; probably a step in progress from the nebular to the Wolf-Rayet spectrum.
Why the novae suddenly flare up, and what their relations to other celestial bodies may be, are questions which can not be regarded as settled. Their distribution on the celestial sphere is indicated in Figure 25 by the open circles. In this figure the densest parts of the Milky Way are drawn in outline. All of the novae have appeared in the Milky Way, with the exception of five: and these exceptions are worthy of note. One of the five appeared in the condensed nucleus of the great Andromeda nebula, not far from its center; another (zeta Centauri) was located close to the edge of a spiral nebula and quite possibly in a faint outlying part of the nebula; a third (tau Coronae) was observed to have a nebulous halo about it at the earliest stage of its observed existence; a fourth (tau Scorpii) appeared in a nebula; and the fifth (Nova Ophiuchi No. 2) in 1848 was not extensively observed. The other 24 novae appeared within the structure of the Milky Way. Keeping the story as short as possible, a nova is seemingly best explained on the theory that a dark or relatively dark star, traveling rapidly through space, has encountered resistance, such as a great nebula or cloud of particles would afford. While passing through the cloud the forward face of the star is bombarded at high velocities by the resisting materials. The surface strata become heated, the luminosity of the star increases rapidly. The effect of the bombardment by small particles can be only skin deep, and the brightness of the star should diminish rapidly and therefore the spectrum change speedily from one type to another. The new star of February, 1901, in Perseus, afforded evidence of great strength on this question. Wolf at Heidelberg photographed in August an irregular nebulous object near the nova. Ritchey's photograph of September showed extensive areas of nebulosity around the star. In October Perrine and Ritchey discovered that the nebular structure had apparently moved outward from the nova, from September to October. Going back to a March 29th photograph taken for a different purpose, Perrine found an irregular ring of nebulosity closely surrounding the star. Apparently, the region was full f nebulosity which is normally invisible to us. The rushing of the star through this resisting medium made the star the brightest one in the northern sky for two or three days. The great wave of light going out from the star when at its brightest traveled in five weeks as far as the ring of nebulosity, where, falling upon non-luminous nebulous materials, it made the ring visible. Continuing its progress, the wave of light illuminated the material which Wolf photographed in August, the materials which Ritchey photographed still farther away in September, and the still more distant materials which Perrine and Ritchey photographed in October, November, and later. We were able to see this material only as the very strong wave of light which left the star at maximum brightness made the material luminous in passing. That 24 novae should occur in the Milky Way, where the stars are most numerous, and where the resisting materials may preferably prevail, is not surprising; and it should be repeated that at least three of the five occurring outside of the Milky Way were located in nebulous surroundings.
The actual collision of two stars would necessarily be too violent in its effect to let the reduction of brilliancy occur so rapidly as to cause the disappearance of the nova in a few weeks or months. The close approach of two stars might conceivably produce the observed facts, but even this process seems too violent in its probable results. The chances for the collision of a rapidly traveling star with an enormously extended nebulous cloud are vastly greater, and the apparent mildness of the phenomenon observed is in better harmony with expectation.
Although all recent novae have been observed to become planetary or stellar nebulae, they seem not to remain nebular for any length of time; they have gone further and become Wolf-Rayet stars. Whether any or all of the planetary nebulae that have been known since Herschel's day, and have remained apparently unchanged in form, have developed from new stars, is uncertain and doubtful. If they have, the disturbances which gave them their character must have been violent, such as would result from full or glancing collisions of two stars, in order to produce deep-seated effects which change slowly, rather than surface effects which change rapidly.
Whether the Wolf-Rayet stars have in general been formed from planetary nebulae is a different question: some of them certainly have. Wright has recently shown that the stellar nuclei of planetary nebulae are Wolf-Rayet stars, and he has formulated several steps in the process whereby the nebulosity in a planetary eventually condenses into the central star. The distribution of the planetaries and the Wolf-Rayet stars on the sphere affords further evidence of a connection. We saw. that the novae are nearly all in the Milky Way. The irregular, ring, planetary and stellar nebulae, plotted in Fig. 27, prefer the Milky Way, but not so markedly. The Wolf-Rayets, without exception, are located in the Milky Way and in the Magellanic Clouds, and those in the Milky Way are remarkably near to its central plane. 107 of these objects are known, 1 is in the Lesser Magellanic Cloud, and 21 are in the Greater Magellanic Cloud. The remaining 85 average less than 2 3/4 degrees from the central plane of the Milky Way.
We are obliged to say that the places of the novae, of the planetary and stellar nebulae, and of the Wolf-Rayets in the evolutionary process are not certainly known. If the Wolf-Rayet stars have developed from the planetaries, the planetaries from the novae, and the novae have resulted from the close approach or collision of two stars, or from the rushing of a dark or faint star through a resisting medium, then the novae, planetaries and Wolf-Rayets belong to a new and second generation: they were born under exceptional conditions. The velocities of the planetary nebulae seem to be an insuperable difficulty in the way of placing them between the irregular nebulae and the helium stars. The average radial velocity of 47 planetary nebulae is about 45 km. per second; and, if the motions of the planetaries are somewhat at random, their average velocities in space are twice as great, or 90 km. per second. This is fully seven times the average velocity of the helium stars, and the helium stars in general, therefore, could not have come from planetary nebulae. The radial velocities of only three Wolf-Rayet stars have been observed, and this number is too small to have statistical value, but the average for the three is several times as high as the average for the helium stars. We can not say, I think, that the velocities of any novae are certainly known.
If the planetaries have been formed from novae, especially the novae which encountered the fiercest resistance, the high velocities are in a sense not surprising, for those stars which travel with abnormally high speeds are the ones whose chances for collisions with resisting media are best; and, further, the higher the speeds of collision the more violent the disturbance. This line of argument also leads to the conclusion that the novae, planetaries and Wolf-Rayets belong not in general before the helium stars, but to another generation of stars. They may, and I think will, develop into a small class of helium stars having special characteristics; for example, high velocities.
Immanuel Kant's writings, published principally in 1755, are in many ways the most remarkable contributions to the literature of stellar evolution yet made. Curiously, Kant's papers have not been read by the text-book makers, except in a few cases. We have already referred to his ideas on the Milky Way and on comets. In his hypothesis of the origin of the solar system, he laid emphasis upon the facts that the six known planets revolve around the Sun from west to east, nearly in the same plane and nearly in the plane of the Sun's equator; that the then four known moons of Jupiter, the five known moons of Saturn, and our moon revolve around these planets from west to east, and nearly in the same general plane; and that the Sun, our moon and the planets, so far as known, rotate in the same direction. These facts, he said, indicate indisputably a common origin for all the members of the solar system. He expressed the belief that the materials now composing the solar system were originally scattered widely throughout the system, and in an elemental state. This was a half century before Herschel's extensive observations of nebuae. Kant thought of this elemental matter as cold, endowed with gravitational power, and endowed necessarily with some repulsive power, such as exists in gases. He started his solar system from materials at rest. Most of the matter, he said, drifted to the center to form the Sun. He believed that nuclei or centers of attraction formed here and there throughout the chaotic structure, and that in the course of ages these centers grew by accretion of surrounding matter into the present planets and their satellites; and that in some manner motion in one direction prevailed throughout the whole system. Kant's explanation of the origin of the ROTATION of the solar system is unsound and worthless. We now know that such a cloud of matter, free from rotation, could not of itself generate rotation; it must get the start from outside forces. Kant's false reasoning was due in part to the fact that some of our most important dynamical laws were not yet discovered, in part to his faulty comprehension of certain dynamical principles already known, and probably in part to the unsatisfactory state of chemical knowledge existing at that date. This was half a century before Dalton's atomic theory of matter was proposed.
Kant asserted that the processes of combination of surrounding cold materials would generate heat, and, therefore, that the resulting planetary masses would assume the liquid form; that Jupiter and Saturn are now in the liquid state; and that all the planets will ultimately become cold and solid. This is in fair agreement with present-day opinion as to the planets, save that modern astronomers go further in holding that the outer strata of Jupiter and Saturn, likewise of Uranus and Neptune, down to a great depth, must still be gaseous. In 1785, after the principle of heat liberation attending the compression of a gas had been announced, Kant supplemented his statement of 1755 as to the origin of the Sun's heat. He attributed this to gravitational action of the Sun upon its own matter, causing it to contract in size: he said the quantity of heat generated in a given time would be a function of the Sun's volumes at the beginning and at the ending of that period of time. This is substantially the principle which Helmholtz rediscovered and announced in 1854, and which is now universally accepted—with the reservation of the past ten years, that radioactive substances in the Sun may be an additional factor in the problem.
Kant's paper of 1754 enunciated the theory that the Moon always turns the same face to the Earth because of tidal retardation of the Moon's rotation by the Earth's gravitational attraction; and that our Earth tides produced by the Moon will slow down the Earth's rotation until the Earth will finally turn one hemisphere constantly to the Moon. This principle was in part reannounced by Laplace a half century later, and likewise investigated by Helmholtz in 1854, before Kant's work was recognized.
Kant's speculations on a possible destruction and re-birth of the solar system, on the nature of Saturn's ring, and on the nature of the zodiacal light are similar in several regards to present-day beliefs.
Kant wrote:
'I seek to evolve the present state of the universe from the simplest condition of nature by means of mechanical laws alone.'
In 1869 Sir William Thomson, afterwards Lord Kelvin, commented that Kant's
'attempt to account for the constitution and mechanical origin of the universe on Newtonian principles only wanted the knowledge of thermodynamics, which the subsequent experiments of Davy, Rumford and Joule supplied, to lead to thoroughly definite explanation of all that is known regarding the present actions and temperatures of the Earth and of the Sun and all other heavenly bodies.'
These are, apparently, the enthusiastic comments resulting from the re-discovery of Kant's papers. A present-day writer would not speak so decisively of them, but we must all bow in acknowledgment of Kant's remarkable contributions to our subject, published when he was but 31 years old.
In 1796, 41 years following Kant's principal contributions, Laplace published an extensive untechnical volume on general astronomy. At the end of the volume he appended seven short notes. The final note, to which he gave the curious title "Note VII and last," proposed a theory of the origin and evolution of the solar system which soon came to be known as Laplace's Nebular Hypothesis. There are several circumstances which indicate pretty clearly that Laplace was not deeply serious in proposing this hypothesis:
1. Its method of publication as the final short appendix to a large volume on general astronomy.
2. He himself said in his note that the hypothesis must be received "with the distrust with which everything should be regarded that is not the result of observation or calculation."
3. So far as we know he did not submit the theory to the test of well-known mathematical principles involved, although this was his habit in essentially every other branch of astronomy.
4. Laplace, in common with Kant, laid great stress upon the fact that the satellites all revolve around their planets from west to east, nearly in the common plane of the solar system; yet 6 or 7 years before Laplace's publication, Herschel had shown and published that the two recently discovered satellites of Uranus were revolving about Uranus in a plane making an angle of 98 degrees with the common plane of the solar system. While Laplace might not have known of Uranus's satellites in 1796, on account of existing political conditions, there is no evidence that he considered or took note of the fact when making minor changes in his published papers up to the time of his death in 1827. It is a further interesting comment on international scientific literature that Laplace died without learning that Kant had worked in the same field.
Laplace and his contemporary, Sir William Herschel, had been the most fruitful contributors to astronomical knowledge since the days of Sir Isaac Newton. Herschel's observations had led him to speculate as to the evolution of the stars from nebulae, and as a result interest in the subject was widespread. This fact, coupled with Laplace's commanding position, caused the nebular hypothesis to be received with great favor. During an entire century it was the central idea about which astronomical thought revolved.
Laplace conceived that the solar system has been evolved from a gaseous and hot nebula; that the nebulosity extended out farther than the known planets; and that the entire nebulous mass was endowed with a slow rotation that was UNIFORM IN ANGULAR RATE, as in the case of a rotating solid. This gaseous mass was in equilibrium under the expanding forces of heat and rotation and the contracting force of gravitation. Loss of heat by radiation permitted corresponding contraction in size, and increased speed of rotation. A time came, according to Laplace, when the nebula was rotating so rapidly that an outer ring of nebulosity was in equilibrium under centrifugal and gravitational forces and refused to be drawn closer in toward the center. This ring, ROTATING AS A SOLID, maintained its position, while the inner mass contracted farther. Later another ring was abandoned in the same manner; and so on, ring after ring, until only the central nucleus was left. Inasmuch as the nebulosity in the rings was not uniformly distributed, each ring broke into pieces, and the pieces of each ring, in the progress of time, condensed into a gaseous mass. The several large masses formed from the abandoned rings, respectively, became the planets and satellites of the solar system. These gaseous masses rotated faster and faster as their heat radiated into space, they abandoned rings of gaseous matter just as the original mass had done, and these secondary rings condensed to form the satellites; save that, in one case, the ring of gas nearest to Saturn for some reason formed a solid (!) ring about that planet, instead of condensing into one or more satellites. Thus, in outline, according to Laplace, the solar system was formed.
The first half of the nineteenth century found the nebular hypothesis accepted almost without question, but a tearing-down process began in the second half of the century, and at present not much of the original structure remains standing. This is due in small part to discoveries since Laplace's time, but chiefly to a more careful consideration of the fundamental principles involved. We have space to present only a few of the more salient objections.
1. If the materials of the solar system existed as a gas, uniformly distributed throughout what we may call the volume of the system, the density of the gas would be exceedingly low: at the most, several hundred million times less dense than the air we breath. Conditions of equilibrium in so rare a medium would require that the abandonment of the outer parts by the contracting and more rapidly rotating inner mass should be a continuous process. Each abandoned element would be abandoned individually; it would not be vitally affected by the elements slightly farther out in the structure, nor by the elements slightly nearer to the center. Successive abandonment of nine gaseous rings of matter, EACH RING ROTATING AS IF IT WERE A SOLID STRUCTURE, is unthinkable. The real product of the cooling process in such a nebula would undoubtedly be something in the nature of a spiral nebula, in which the matter would revolve around the nucleus the more rapidly the nearer it was to the nucleus. If the matter were originally distributed uniformly throughout the rotating structure, the spiral lines might not be visible. If it were distributed irregularly, the spiral form here and there could scarcely fail to be in evidence to a distant observer.
2. Laplace held that the condensation of each ring would result in one planet, rotating on its axis from west to east; this apparently by virtue of the fact that in a ring rotating AS A SOLID the outer edge travels more rapidly than the inner edge does, and therefore, the west to east direction of rotation must prevail in the planetary product. If now, as we firmly believe, each constituent of such an attenuated ring must rotate substantially independently of other constituents, those nearer the inner edge of the ring will possess the higher speeds of rotation, and the preponderance of kinetic energy in the inner parts of the ring should give the resulting planetary condensation a retrograde direction of rotation.
3. According to Laplace the satellites should all revolve around their primaries from west to east. Eight of the satellites do not follow this rule.
4. If the materials composing the inner ring of Saturn were abandoned by the parent planet, as this planet contracted in size and rotated ever more and more rapidly, then the ring should revolve about the planet in a period considerably longer than the planet period. The reverse is the fact. The rotation period of the equatorial region of the planet itself is 10 h. 14 m., whereas the inner edge of the ring system revolves about the planet once in about five hours.
5. The inner satellite of Mars revolves once in 7 h. 39 m., whereas Mars requires 24 h. 37 m. for one rotation. According to the Nebular Hypothesis, the period of the satellite should be the longer.
6. Laplace's hypothesis would seem to require that the orbits of the planets be circular or very nearly so. The orbits of all except Venus and Neptune are quite eccentric, and Mercury's orbit, which should have the nearest approach to circularity, is by far the most eccentric.
7. If the planetary rings were abandoned by centrifugal action, we should expect the Sun to be rotating in the principal plane of the planet system. The major planets, from Venus out to Neptune, are revolving in nearly a common plane. The Sun, containing 99 6/7 per cent. of all the material in the system, has its equator inclined 7 degrees to the planet plane. This discrepancy is a very serious and I think fatal objection to Laplace's hypothesis, as Chamberlin has emphasized.
8. Laplace assumed a nebula whose form was a function of its rotational speed, its gravitation, its internal heat, and, although he does not so state, of its internal friction. He did not distribute the matter within the nebula to conform in any way to the distribution as we observe it to-day, but he let the entire structure contract, following the loss of heat, until the maintenance of equilibrium required the successive abandoning of seven or eight rings. He mentions a central condensation, but gives no further particulars. Thirty years ago Fouche established clearly that the condensing of Laplace's assumed nebula into the present solar system would involve the violent breaking of the law known as the conservation of moment of momentum. Fouche proved that a distribution of matter beyond any conception of the subject by Laplace must be assumed. Fully 96 per cent. must be condensed in the central nucleus AT THE OUTSET, and not more than 4 per cent. of the total mass must lie outside of the nucleus and be widely distributed throughout the volume of the solar system. Chamberlin puts the case very strongly in another way. If the planet Mercury was abandoned as a ring of nebulosity, the equatorial velocity of the remaining central mass must at that time have been in the neighborhood of 45 km. per second, as this is the orbital speed of Mercury. If the central mass condensed to the present size of the Sun, the Sun's equatorial velocity of rotation should now be fully 400 km. per second, in accordance with the requirement of the rigid law of constancy of moment of momentum. The Sun's actual equatorial velocity is only 2 km. per second!
In several other respects the hypothesis of Laplace, as he proposed it, fails to account for the facts as they are observed to exist.
Poincare devoted his unique talents to the evolution problem shortly before his death. He recognized that the Laplace hypothesis is not tenable except upon such an assumed distribution of matter as was defined by Fouche. Accepting this modification, and extending the hypothesis to involve the application of tidal interactions at many points throughout the solar system, Poincare expresses the opinion that the Laplacian hypothesis, of all those proposed, is still the one which best accounts for the facts.[3] However, he does not utilize the hypothesis of rings rotating as solids, for he finds it necessary to conclude that the planetary masses in the beginning must have had retrograde rotations. In the large planetary masses of Jupiter and Saturn, for example, the materials which form the outer retrograde satellites were abandoned while the rotations were still retrograde, and when the diameters of the planetary masses were several scores of times their present diameters. In these extended masses the Sun would create tidal waves, and here, as always, such waves would exert a retarding effect upon the rotations. A time would come, Poincare thought, when these planets would rotate once in a revolution; that is, present the same face to the Sun; and this is in fact a west to east rotation. Further contraction of the planetary masses would give rise to increasing rotational speeds in the west to east direction. The materials which form the inner satellites of Jupiter and Saturn were abandoned successively after the west to east direction of rotation had become established. According to modifications of the same theory, tidal retardation has slowed down Saturn's speed since the abandonment of the materials which later condensed to form the inner ring of that planet; or, possibly, the ring materials encountered resistance after the planet abandoned them, with the consequence that the ring drew in toward the planet and increased its speed; and similarly in the case of Mars and its inner satellite.
[3] Poincare has made the following interesting comments on Laplace's hypothesis: "The oldest hypothesis is that of Laplace; but its old age is vigorous and for its age it has not too many wrinkles. In spite of the objections which have been urged against it, in spite of the discoveries which astronomers have made and which would indeed astonish Laplace himself, it is always standing the strain, and it is the hypothesis which best explains the facts; it is the hypothesis which responds best to the question which Laplace endeavored to answer, Why does order rule throughout the solar system, provided this order is not due to chance? From time to time a breach opened in the old edifice (the Laplace hypothesis); but the breach was promptly repaired and the edifice has not fallen."
To me this modification of the Laplacian hypothesis is unsatisfactory, for several reasons. To mention only one: if Jupiter was a large gaseous mass extending out as far as the 8th and 9th satellites, the gaseous body was very highly attenuated; friction in the outer strata would be essentially a negligible quantity, and tidal retardation would not be very effective; and it would be under just these conditions that loss of heat from the planet should be most rapid and the rate of increase of retrograde rotation resulting therefrom be comparatively high. It would seem that the rotation of the planet in the retrograde direction must have accelerated under the contractional cause, rather than have decreased and reversed in direction under an excessively feeble tidal cause.
The recognized weaknesses of Laplace's hypothesis have caused many other hypotheses to be proposed in the past half century. The hypotheses of Faye, Lockyer, du Ligondes, See, Arrhenius, and Chamberlin and Moulton include many of the features of Kant's or Laplace's hypotheses, but all of them advance and develop other ideas. It is unfortunate that space limits do not permit us to discuss the new features of each hypothesis.
(To be continued.)
LASTING peace among the nations of the earth we must regard as of supreme moment, the discovery of the conditions thereof, as most worthy of human effort. Physical struggle is no longer accepted as either a necessary or a desirable means of settling differences between individuals. Why, then, should it be tolerated to-day in connection with national disagreements? To admit the impossibility or the impracticability of universal peace is to stigmatize our vaunted civilization as a failure. Surely we will not, can not, humble ourselves by such an admission until we have exhausted our energies in searching for the conditions of national amity.
With my whole life I believe in the possibility and value of worldwide friendliness and cooperation. I am writing to discuss not the attainability or the merits of peace, but ways of achieving it; not to criticize present activities on its behalf, but to indicate the promise of a neglected approach and to present a program which should, I believe, find its place in the great "peace movement."
Must peace be achieved and maintained by brute strength, regardless of sense and sentiment, or may it be gained through intelligence, humanely used? Must the pathway thereto be paved with human skulls, builded with infinite suffering and sacrifice, or may it he charted by scientific inquiry and builded by the joyous labor of mutual service and helpfulness? Is it possible, in the light of the history of the races of man, to doubt that we must place our dependence on intelligence sympathetically employed, not on physical prowess? To me it seems that peace must be achieved peacefully, not by the clash of arms and bloodshed.
But even if we grant that science is our main hope, there remains a choice of methods. On the one hand, there is the way of material progress, physical discovery and feverish haste to apply every new fact to armament; on the other, that of biological research, social enlightenment, and ever-increasing human understanding and sympathy.
Firm believers in each of these possible approaches, through science, to international peace, are at hand. The one group argues that nations, like individuals, must be controlled in all supreme crises by fear; the other contends that civilization has developed in enlightened human sympathy a higher, a more worthy, and a safer control of behavior.
As a biologist and a believer in the brotherhood of man, I wish to present the merits of sympathy, as contrasted with fear, and to plead for larger attention to the biological approach to the control of international relations. For I am convinced that the greatest lesson of the present stupendous world-conflict is the need of thorough knowledge of the laws of individual and social human behavior. Surely this war clearly indicates that the study of instinct, and the use of our knowledge for the control of human relations, is incalculably more important for the welfare of mankind than is the discovery of new and ever more powerful explosives or the building of increasingly terrible engines of destruction.
During the last half-century the physical sciences, technologies, arts and industries, have made marvelous advances. At enormous cost of labor and material resources there have been discovered and perfected means of destroying life and property at once so effective and so terrible to contemplate that preparedness for war seemed a safe guarantee of peace. But who is there now to insist, against the evidence of blood-drenched Europe, that material progress, physical discovery, and armament based thereupon, assure international friendship?
Only if one of the nations should discover, and guard as its secret, some diabolically horrible means of destroying human life and property by wholesale and over materially unbridged distances, can armaments even temporarily put an end to war. In such event—and it is by no means an improbability—the whole world might suddenly be made to bow in terror before the will of the all-powerful nation. Before this approaching crisis, can we do less than earnestly pray that the translation of physical progress into armament may be halted until the brotherhood of man has been further advanced? Dare we stop to contemplate what would happen to-morrow if Germany, with half the civilized world arrayed against her, should come into possession of some imponderable, and to the untutored mind mysterious, means of directing her torpedoes, exploding magazines, mines, shells from distant bases? Undoubtedly we are close upon the employment of certain vibrations for this deadly purpose. Shall we veer in time and take a safer course, or are we doomed to the inevitable?
For the certain result of pushing forward relentlessly on the path of preparation for war—in the name of peace—is the dominance of a single nation and the destruction or subjugation of all others. This is as inevitable as is death. If we would preserve and foster racial and national diversity of traits, promote social individuality as we so eagerly foster the diversity of selves, we must speedily focus attention upon human nature and seek that knowledge of it which shall enable us to control it wisely rather than to destroy it ruthlessly.
Even were I able to do so, I should in no degree belittle the achievements of the physical sciences and their technologies, for I believe whole-heartedly in their value, and long for the steady increase of our power to control our environment. But when these achievements are offered as means of creating or maintaining certain desired conditions of individual and social life, I must insist that other knowledge is essential—nay, more essential—than that of the physicist or chemist. Knowledge, namely, of life itself.
Most briefly, the situation may thus be described. In peace and in war there are two large, complex and intricate groups of facts to be dealt with by those who seek the welfare of man. The one group comprises the phenomena of physical nature as the condition of life—environment; the other is constituted by the phenomena of life and the relations of lives. Those who sincerely believe in preparedness for war as a preventive measure, misconceive and attempt to misuse the emotion of fear and its modes of expression. It is as though we should strive tirelessly to develop machinery and methods for educating our children, the while ignorant of the laws of child development and branding as of no practical importance the fundamentals of human nature.
To nations no more than to individuals is it given to live by fear alone. By it a nation may become dominant, and diversity of body, mind, and ideals be eradicated. To base our civilization upon fear entails uniformity, monotony of life; the sacrifice of peoples for the unduly exalted traits and national ideals of a single homogeneous social group—a single all-powerful nation. Knowledge of life, and the sympathy for one's fellow men which springs from it, must control the world if nations are to live in peaceful and mutually helpful relations. If life, whether of the individual or of the social group, is to be controlled, it must be through intimate knowledge of life, not through knowledge of something else. The world must be ruled by sympathy, based upon understanding, insight, appreciation. This is my prophecy, this my faith and my present thesis.
Material as contrasted with purely intellectual or spiritual progress is the pride of our time. We worship technology as reared upon physics and chemistry. But what is our gain, in this progress, so long as we continue to use one another as targets? Would it not be wiser, more far-sighted, more humane, more favorable to the development of universal peace and brotherhood, to give a large share of our time and substance to the search for the secrets of life? As compared with the physical sciences, the biological departments of inquiry are, in general, backward and ill-supported. Why? Because their tremendous importance is not generally recognized, and, still more, because the control of inanimate nature as promised by physical discovery and its applications appeals irresistibly both to our imagination and to our greed. We long for peace—because we are afraid of war—we long for the perfecting of individual and social life, but much more intensely and effectively we long for wealth, power and pleasure.
What I have already said and now repeat in other words is that if we really desired above anything attainable on earth the lasting peace of nations, we should diligently foster and tirelessly pursue the sciences of life and seek to perfect and exalt the varied arts and technologies which should be based upon them. Experimental zoology and genetics; physiology and hygiene; genetic psychology and education; anthropology and ethnology; sociology and economics, would be held in as high esteem and as ardently furthered as are the various physical sciences and their technologies.
Does it not seem reasonable to claim that human behavior may be intelligently controlled or directed only in the light of intimate and exhaustive knowledge of the organism, its processes, and its relations to its environment? If this be true, how pitiably, how shamefully, inadequate is our knowledge even of ourselves! How few are those who have a sound, although meager, knowledge of the laws of heredity, of the primary facts of human physiology, of the principles of hygiene, of the chief facts and laws of mental life, including the fundamental emotions and their corresponding instinctive modes of action, the modifiability or educability of the individual and the important relations of varied sorts of experience and conduct, the laws of habit, the nature and role of the sentiments, the unnumbered varieties of memory and ideation, the chief facts of social life and their relations to individual experience and behavior. Not one person in a thousand has a knowledge of life and its conditions equal in adequacy for practical demands to his knowledge of those aspects of physical nature with which he is concerned in earning a livelihood. Even those of us who have dedicated our lives to the study of life are humble before our ignorance. But with a faith which can not be shaken, because we have seen visions and dreamed dreams, we insist that the knowledge which we seek and daily find is absolutely essential for the perfecting of educational methods; for the development of effective systems of bodily and mental hygiene; for the discovery, fostering and maintenance of increasingly profitable social relations and organizations. In a word, we believe that biology, of all sciences, can and must lead us in the path of social as contrasted with merely material progress; can and ultimately will so alter the relations of nations that war shall be as impossible as is peace to-day.
Fortunately the biologist may depend, in his efforts to further the study of all aspects of life, not upon faith and hope alone, but also upon works, for already physiology and psychology have transformed our educational practices; and the medical sciences given us a great and steadily increasing measure of control over disease.
At least two men, as different in intellectual equipment, habits of mind, and methods of inquiry as well could be, the one an American, the other an Englishman, have heralded the broadly comparative and genetic study of mind and behavior—let us call it Genetic Psychology—as the promise of a new era for civilization, because the essential condition of the intelligent and effective regulation of life.
The one of these prophets among biologists, President G. Stanley Hall, has lived to see his faith in the practical importance of the intensive study of childhood and adolescence justified by radical reforms in school and home. Hall should be revered by all lovers of youth as the apostle to adolescents. The other, Professor William McDougall, has done much to convince the thinking world that all of the social sciences and technologies must be grounded upon an adequate genetic psychology—a genetic psychology which shall take as full and intelligent account of behavior as of experience; of the life of the ant, monkey, ape as of that of man; of the savage as of civilized man; of the infant, child, adolescent as of the adult; of the moron, imbecile, idiot, insane, as of the normal individual; of social groups as of isolated selves. It is to McDougall we owe a most effective sketch—in his introduction to Social Psychology of the primary human emotions in their relations to instinctive modes of behavior.
Hall, McDougall and such sociologists—lamentably few, I fear—as Graham Wallas would agree that for the attainment of peace we must depend upon some primary human instinct. I venture the prediction that no one of them would select fear as the safe basis. Instead, they surely would unite upon sympathy.
Among animals preparedness for struggles is a conspicuous cause of strife. The monkey who stalks about among his fellows with muscles tense, tail erect, teeth bared, bespeaking expectancy of and longing for a fight, usually provokes it. We may not safely argue that lower animals prove the value of preparedness for war as a preventive measure! Among them, as among human groups, the only justification of militarism is protection and aggression. Preparedness for strife is provocative rather than preventive thereof.
As individual differences, and resulting struggles, are due to ignorance, misunderstanding, lack of the basis for intelligent appreciation of ideals, motives and sympathy, so among nations knowledge of bodily and mental traits, of aims, aspirations, and national ideals fosters the feeling of kinship and favors the instinctive attitude of sympathetic cooperation.
Every student of living things knows that to understand the structure, habits, instincts, of any creature is to feel for and with it. Even the lowliest type of organism acquires dignity and worth when one becomes familiar with its life. Children in their ignorance and lack of understanding are incredibly cruel. So, likewise, are nations. The treatment of inferior by superior races throughout the ages has been childishly cruel, unjust, stupid, inimical to the best interests not only of the victims, but also of mankind. This has been so, not so much by reason of bad intentions, although selfishness has been at the root of immeasurable injustice, but primarily because of the utter lack of understanding and sympathy. To see a savage is to despise or fear him, to know him intimately is to love him. The same law holds of social groups, be they families, tribes, nations or races. They can cooperate on terms of friendly helpfulness just in the measure in which they know one another's physical, mental and social traits and appreciate their values, for in precisely this measure are they capable of understanding and sympathizing with one another's ideals.
Selfishness, the essential condition of individualism and nationalism, must be supplanted by the sympathy of an all inclusive social consciousness and conscience if lasting peace is to be attained.
To further the end of this transformation of man we should become familiar with the inborn springs to action, those fundamental tendencies which we call instincts, for we live more largely than is generally supposed by instinct and less by reason. All of the organic cravings, hungers, needs, should be thoroughly understood so that they may be effectively used. And, finally, the laws of intellect must be at our command if we are to meet the endlessly varying and puzzling situations of life profitably and with the measure of adequacy our reason would seem to justify.
Clearly, then, the least, and the most, we can do in the interest of peace is to provide for the study of life, but especially for the shamefully neglected or imperfectly described phenomena of behavior and mind, in the measure which our national wealth, our intelligence and our technical skill make possible. For one thing, it is open to us to establish institutes for the thorough study of every aspect of behavior and mind in relation to structure and environment, comparable with such institutions for social progress as the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research. The primary function of such centers for the solution of vital problems should be the comparative study, from the genetic, developmental, historical, point of view of every aspect of the functional life of living things, to the end that human life may be better understood and more successfully controlled. Facts of heredity, of behavior, of mind, of social relations, should alike be gathered and related, and thus by the observation of the most varied types, developmental stages, and conditions of living creatures there should be developed a science of behavior and consciousness which should ultimately constitute a safe basis for the social sciences, for all forms of social endeavor, and for universal and permanent peace.
I submit that such centers of research as the psycho-biological institute I have so imperfectly described are sorely needed. For it is obvious that the future of our species depends in large measure upon how we develop the biological sciences and what use we make of our knowledge. I further submit, and therewith I rest my case, that familiarity with living things breeds sympathy not contempt, and that sympathy in turn conditions justice.
May it be granted us to work intelligently, effectively, tirelessly for world-wide peace and service. not by the suppression of racial and national diversities, the leveling of the mass to a deadly sameness, but through steadily increasing appreciation of racial and national traits. May the world, even sooner than we dare to hope, be ruled by sympathy instead of by fear.
THE Missouri Botanical Garden has recently celebrated the twenty-fifth anniversary of its foundation and the New York Botanical Garden its twentieth anniversary. Within these short periods these gardens have taken rank among the leading scientific institutions of the world. Botanical gardens were among the first institutions to be established for scientific research; indeed Parkinson, the "botanist royal" of England, on the title page of his book of 1629, which we here reproduce, depicts the Garden of Eden as the first botanical garden and one which apparently engaged in scientific expeditions, for it includes plants which must have been collected in America. However this may be, publicly supported gardens for the cultivation of plants of economic and esthetic value existed in Egypt, Assyria, China and Mexico and beginning in the medieval period had a large development in Europe there being at the beginning of the seventeenth century botanical gardens devoted to research in Bologna, Montpellier, Leyden, Paris, Upsala and elsewhere. An interesting survey of the history of botanical gardens is given in a paper by Dr. A W. Hill assistant director of the Kew Gardens, prepared for the celebration of the Missouri Garden, from which we have taken the illustration from Parkinson and the pictures of Padua and Kew.
The papers presented at the celebration have been published in a handsome volume. It includes addresses by a number of distinguished botanists, though owing to the war several of the foreign botanists were unable to be present. Dr. George T. Moore, director of the garden, made in his address of welcome a brief statement in regard to its origin in the private garden and by the later endowment of Mr. Henry Shaw. Mr. Shaw came to this country from England in 1818, and with a small stock of hardware began business in one room which also served as bedroom and kitchen. Within twenty years he had acquired a fortune and retired from active business to devote the remaining forty-nine years of his life to travel and to the management of a garden surrounding his country-home on the outskirts of St. Louis. In 1859 he erected a small museum and library, and in 1866 Mr. James Gurney was brought to this country as head gardener. Mr. Shaw died in 1889, leaving his estate largely for the establishment of the Missouri Botanical Garden, but providing also for the Henry Shaw School of Botany of Washington University and a park for the city. With this liberal endowment constantly increasing as the real estate becomes more productive, Dr. William Trelease, the first director, and Dr. George T. Moore, the present director, have conducted an institution not only of value to the city of St. Louis but largely contributing to the advance of botanical science.
The New York Botanical Garden, largely through the efforts of Dr. N. L. Britton, the present director was authorized by the New York legislature in 1891. The act of incorporation provided that when the corporation created should have secured by subscription a sum not less than $250,000 the city was authorized to set aside for the garden as much as 250 acres from one of the public parks and to expend one half million dollars for the construction and equipment of the necessary buildings. The conditions were met in 1895, and the institution has since grown in its land, and its buildings, in its collections and in its herbaria, so that, in association with the department of botany of Columbia University, it now rivals in its material equipment and in the research work accomplished any botanical institution in the world.
THERE will be held at Washington from Monday, December 27, to Saturday, January 9, the second Pan-American Scientific Congress, authorized by the first congress held in Santiago, Chili, six years previously. This was one of the series of congresses previously conducted by the republics of Latin America. The Washington congress, which is under the auspices of the government of the United States, with Mr. William Phillips, third assistant secretary of state, as chairman of the executive committee, will meet in nine sections, which, with the chairmen, are as follows:
I. Anthropology, Wm. H. Holmes.
II. Astronomy, Meteorology, and Seismology, Robert S. Woodward.
III. Conservation of Natural Resources, Agriculture, Irrigation and Forestry, George M. Rommel.
IV. Education, P. P. Claxton.
V. Engineering, W. H. Bixby.
VI. International Law, Public Law, and Jurisprudence, JamesBrown Scott.
VII. Mining and Metallurgy, Economic Geology, and AppliedChemistry, Hennen Jennings.
VIII. Public Health and Medical Science, Wm. C. Gorgas.
IX. Transportation, Commerce, Finance, and Taxation, L. S.Rowe.
Each section is divided further into subsections, of which there are forty-five, each with a special committee and program. Several of the leading national associations of the United States, concerned with the investigation of subjects of pertinent interest to some of the sections of the congress, have received and accepted invitations from the executive committee of congress to meet in Washington at the same time and hold one or more joint sessions with a section or subsection of corresponding interest. Thus the nineteenth International Congress of Americanists will meet in Washington during the same week with the Pan-American Scientific Congress, and joint conferences will be held for the discussion of subjects of common interest to members of the two organizations
As an example of the wide scope of the congress we may quote the ten subsections into which the section of education is divided. Each of these subsections is under a committee of men distinguished in educational work and men of eminence have been invited to take part in the proceedings. The subjects proposed for discussion by each of these sections are:
Elementary Education: To what extent should elementary education be supported by local taxation, and to what extent by state taxation? What should be the determining factors in the distribution of support? Secondary Education: What should be the primary and what the secondary purpose of high school education? To what extent should courses of study in the high school be determined by the requirements for admission to college, and to what extent by the demands of industrial and civic life? University Education: Should universities and colleges supported by public funds be controlled by independent and autonomous powers, or should they be controlled directly by central state authority? Education of Women: To what extent is coeducation desirable in elementary schools, high schools, colleges and universities? Exchange of Professors and Students between Countries: To what extent is an exchange of students and professors between American republics desirable? What is the most effective basis for a system of exchange? What plans should be adopted in order to secure mutual recognition of technical and professional degrees by American Republics? Engineering Education: To what extent may college courses in engineering be profitably supplemented by practical work in the shop? To what extent may laboratory work in engineering be replaced through cooperation with industrial plants? Medical Education: What preparation should be required for admission to medical schools? What should he the minimum requirements for graduation? What portion of the faculty of a medical school should be required to give all their time to teaching and investigation? What instruction may best be given by physicians engaged in medical practice? Agricultural Education: What preparation should be required for admission to state and national colleges of agriculture? To what extent should the courses of study in the agricultural college be theoretical and general, and to what extent practical and specific? To what extent should the curriculum of any such college be determined by local conditions? Industrial Education: What should be the place of industrial education in the school system of the American republics? Should it be supported by public taxation? Should it be considered as a function of the public school system? Should it be given in a separate system under separate control? How and to what extent may industrial schools cooperate with employers of labor, Commercial Education: How can a nation prepare in the most effective manner its young men for a business career that is to be pursued at home or in a foreign country.
WE record with regret the death at the age of ninety-two of Henri Fabre, the distinguished French entomologist and author; of William Henry Hoar Hudson, late professor of mathematics at King's College, London; of Dr. Ugo Schiff, professor of chemistry at Florence; of Susanna Phelps Gage, known for her work on comparative anatomy; of Charles Frederick Holder, the California naturalist, and of Dr. Austin Flint, a distinguished physician and alienist of New York City.
DR. RAY LYMAN WILBUR, professor of medicine, has been elected president of Leland Stanford Junior University. He will on January 1 succeed Dr John Caspar Branner, who undertook to accept the presidency for a limited period on the retirement of Dr. David Starr Jordan, now chancellor of the university. Dr. Wilbur graduated from the academic department of Stanford University in 1896.
AT the Manchester meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, Sir Arthur J. Evans, F.R S., the archeologist, honorary keeper of the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, was elected president for next year's meeting, to be held at Newcastle-on-Tyne. The meeting of 1917 will be held at Bournemouth.
DR. MAX PLANCK, professor of physics at Berlin, and Professor Hugo von Seeliger, director of the Munich Observatory, have been made knights of the Prussian order pour le merite. Dr. Ramon y Cajal, professor of histology at Madrid, and Dr. C. J. Kapteyn, professor of astronomy at Groningen, have been appointed foreign knights of this order.
MR. JACOB H. SCHIFF, a member of the board of trustees of Barnard College and its first treasurer, has given $500,000 to the college for a woman's building. It will include a library and additional lecture halls as well as a gymnasium, a lunch room and rooms for students' organizations.
BY the will of the late Dr. Dudley P. Allen, formerly professor of surgery in the Western Reserve University, $200,000 has been set aside as a permanent endowment fund for the Cleveland Medical Library.
BY ARISTIDES AGRAMONTE, M.D., Sc.D. (HON.)
THE construction of the Panama Canal was made possible because it was shown that yellow fever, like malaria, could be spread only by the bites of infected mosquitoes.
The same discovery, which has been repeatedly referred to as the greatest medical achievement of the twentieth century, was the means of stamping out the dreaded scourge in Cuba, as well as in New Orleans, Rio de Janeiro, Vera Cruz, Colon, Panama and other Cities in America.
This article is intended to narrate the motives that led up to the investigation and also the manner in which the work was planned, executed and terminated. No names are withheld and the date of every important event is given, so that an interested reader may be enabled to follow closely upon the order of things as they occurred and thus form a correct idea of the importance of the undertaking, the risk entailed in its accomplishment and how evenly divided was the work among those who, in the faithful performance of their military duties, contributed so much for the benefit of mankind; the magnitude of their achievement is of such proportions, that it loses nothing of its greatness when we tear away the halo of apparent heroism that well-meaning but ignorant historians have thrown about some of the investigators.
The whole series of events, tragic, pathetic, comical and otherwise, took place upon a stage made particularly fit by nature and the surrounding circumstances.
Columbia Barracks, a military reservation, garrisoned by some fourteen hundred troops, distant about eight miles from the city of Havana, the latter, suffering at the time from an epidemic of yellow fever, which the application of all sanitary measures had failed to check or ameliorate and finally, our experimental camp (Camp Lazear), a few army tents, securely hidden from the road leading to Marianao, and safeguarded against intercourse with the outside world; the whole setting portentously silent and gloriously bright in the glow of tropical sunlight and the green of luxuriant vegetation.
Two members of a detachment of four medical officers of the United States Army, on the morning of August 31, 1900, were busily examining under microscopes several glass slides containing blood from a fellow officer who, since the day before, had shown symptoms of yellow fever; these men were Drs. Jesse W. Lazear and myself; our sick colleague was Dr. James Carroll, who presumably had been infected by one of our "experiment mosquitoes."
It is very difficult to describe the feelings which assailed us at that moment; a sense of exultation at our apparent success no doubt animated us; regret, because the results had evidently brought a dangerous illness upon our coworker and with it all associated a thrill of uncertainty for the reason of the yet insufficient testimony tending to prove the far-reaching truth which we then hardly dared to realize.
As the idea that Carroll's fever must have been caused by the mosquito that was applied to him four days before became fixed upon our minds, we decided to test it upon the first non-immune person who should offer himself to be bitten; this was of common occurrence and taken much as a joke among the soldiers about the military hospital. Barely fifteen minutes may have elapsed since we had come to this decision when, as Lazear stood at the door of the laboratory trying to "coax" a mosquito to pass from one test-tube into another, a soldier came walking by towards the hospital buildings; he saluted, as it is customary in the army upon meeting an officer, but, as Lazear had both hands engaged, he answered with a rather pleasant "Good morning." The man stopped upon coming abreast, curious no doubt to see the performance with the tubes, and after gazing for a minute or two at the insects he said: "You still fooling with mosquitoes, Doctor?" "Yes," returned Lazear, "will you take a bite?" "Sure I ain't scared of 'em," responded the man. When I heard this, I left the microscope and stepped to the door, where the short conversation had taken place; Lazear looked at me as though in consultation; I nodded assent, then turned to the soldier and asked him to come inside and bare his forearm. Upon a slip of paper I wrote his name while several mosquitoes took their fill; William E. Dean, American by birth, belonging to Troop B, Seventh Cavalry; he said that he had never been in the tropics before and had not left the military reservation for nearly two months. The conditions for a test case were quite ideal.
I must say we were in great trepidation at the time; and well might we have been, for Dean's was the first indubitable case of yellow fever about to be produced experimentally by the bite of purposely infected mosquitoes. Five days afterwards, when he came down with yellow fever and the diagnosis of his case was corroborated by Dr. Roger P. Ames, U. S. Army, then on duty at the hospital, we sent a cablegram to Major Walter Reed, chairman of the board, who a month before had been called to Washington upon another duty, apprising him of the fact that the theory of the transmission of yellow fever by mosquitoes, which at first was doubted so much and the transcendental importance of which we could then barely appreciate, had indeed been confirmed.
Other infectious diseases, tuberculosis, for instance, may cause a greater death-rate and bring about more misery and distress, even to-day, than yellow fever has produced at any one time; but no disease, except possibly cholera or the plague, is so tragic in its development, so appalling in its action, so devastating in its results, nor does any other make greater havoc than yellow fever when it invades non-immune or susceptible communities.
For two centuries, at least, the disease has been known to exist endemically, that is, more or less continuously, in most of the Mexican Gulf ports, extending its ravages along the West India Islands and the cities of the Central and the South American coast.
In the United States it has made its appearance in epidemic form as far north as Portsmouth, N. H. At Philadelphia in 1793, more than ten per cent. of the entire population died of yellow fever. Other cities, like Charleston, S. C., suffered more than twenty epidemics in as many summers, during the eighteenth century. In the city of New Orleans, the epidemic which developed in the summer of 1853 caused more than 7,000 deaths. Later, in 1878, yellow fever invaded 132 towns in the United States, producing a loss of 15,932 lives out of a total number of cases which reached to more than 74,000: New Orleans alone suffered a mortality of 4,600 at that time. Recently (1905), this city withstood what is to be hoped shall prove its last invasion, which, thanks to the modern methods employed in its suppression, based upon the new mosquito doctrine, only destroyed about 3,000 lives.
It is by contemplating this awful record, and much more there is which for the sake of brevity I leave unstated, that one realizes the boon to mankind which the successful researches of the Army Board have proved. The work of prevention, the only one that may be considered effective when dealing with the epidemic diseases, was entirely misguided with regard to yellow fever until 1901: the sick were surrounded by precautions which were believed most useful in other infectious diseases, the attendants were often looked upon as pestilential, and so treated, in spite of the fact that evidence from the early history of the disease clearly pointed to the apparent harmlessness even of the patients themselves. All this notwithstanding, cases continued to develop, in the face of shotgun quarantine even, until the last non-immune inhabitant of the locality had been either cured or buried.
The mystery which accompanied the usual course of an epidemic, the poison creeping from house to house, along one side of a street, seldom, crossing the road, spreading sometimes around the whole block of houses before appearing in another neighborhood, unless distinctly carried there by a visitor to the infected zone who himself became stricken, all this series of peculiar circumstances was a never-ending source of discussion and investigation.
In the year 1900, Surgeon H. R. Carter, of the then Marine Hospital Service, published a very interesting paper calling attention to the interval of time which regularly occurred between the first case of yellow fever in a given community and those that subsequently followed; this was never less than two weeks, a period of incubation extending beyond that usually accorded to other acute infectious diseases. The accuracy of these observations has later been confirmed by the mosquito experiments hereinafter outlined.
One may well believe that such a scourge as yellow fever could not have been long neglected by medical investigators, and so we find that from the earliest days, when the germ-theory of disease took its proper place in modern science, a search for the causative agent of this infection was more or less actively instituted.
Men of the highest attainments in bacteriology engaged in numerous attempts to isolate the yellow fever microbe: unfortunately not a few charlatans took advantage of the dread and terror which the disease inspires, to proclaim their discoveries and their specific CURES; one of these obtained wealth and honor in one of the South American republics for presumably having discovered the "germ" and prepared a so-called vaccination which was expected to eradicate the disease from that country, but for many years after the foreign population continued to suffer as before and the intensity and the spread of yellow fever remained unabated, although thousands of "preventive inoculations" were made every month.
Geo. M. Sternberg in 1880, then an army surgeon, was directly instrumental in exposing the swindle that was being perpetrated, putting an end, after the most painstaking investigation, to all the claims to discovery of the "germ" of yellow fever that had been made by several medical men in Spanish America. The experience which he obtained during a scientific excursion through Mexico, Cuba and South America gave him a wonderful insight as to the difficulties one has to contend with in such work and made him realize the importance of special laboratory training for such undertaking. It is interesting to note that, as surgeon general of the U. S. Army, twenty years after, General Sternberg chose and appointed the men who constituted the yellow fever board, in Cuba.
The year before the Spanish-American war, an Italian savant, who had obtained a well-deserved reputation as bacteriologist while working in the Institute Pasteur of Paris, came out with the announcement from Montevideo, Uruguay, that he had actually discovered the much-sought-for cause of yellow fever; his descriptions of the methods employed, though not materially different from those followed by Sternberg many years before, bore the imprint of truth and his experimental inoculations had apparently been successful. Sanarelli—that is his name—for about two years was the "hero of the hour," yet his claims have been proved absolutely false.
The question of the identity of his "germ" was first taken up by the writer under instructions from General Sternberg: during the Santiago campaign I had opportunity to autopsy a considerable number of yellow fever cases and, following closely upon Sanarelli's directions, only three times out of ten could his bacillus be demonstrated; at almost the same time, Drs. Reed and Carroll, in Washington, were carrying out experiments which showed that Sanarelli's bacillus belonged to the hog-cholera group of bacteria and thus when found in yellow fever cadavers could play there only a secondary role as far as the infection is concerned.
Unfortunately, two investigators belonging to the U. S. Marine Hospital Service, Drs. Wasdin and Gleddings, were, according to their claims, corroborating Sanarelli's findings: there was nothing to do but that the investigation should continue, and so I was sent by General Sternberg to Havana in December, 1898, with instructions and power to do all that might be necessary to clear up the matter. Wasdin and Geddings had preceded me; the work carried us through the summer of 1899; we frequently investigated the same cases; I often autopsied bodies from which we took the same specimens and made the same cultures, in generally the same kind of media, and finally we rendered our reports to our respective departments, Wasdin and Geddings affirming that Sanarelli's bacillus was present in almost all the cases, while I denied that it had such specific character and showed its occurrence in cases not yellow fever. A virulent epidemic which raged in the city of Santiago and vicinity during 1899 afforded me abundant material for research.
In the meantime the city of Havana was being rendered sanitary in a way which experience had taught would have overcome any bacterial infection, and, in fact, the diseases of filth, such as dysentery, tuberculosis, children's complaints and others, decreased in a surprising manner, while yellow fever seemed to have been little affected if at all.
Evidently, a more thorough overhauling of the matter was necessary to arrive at the truth, and while the question of Sanarelli and his claims was practically put aside, Surgeon-General Sternberg, recognizing the importance of the work before us and that its proportions were such as to render the outcome more satisfactory by the cooperation of several investigators in the same direction, wisely decided to create a board for the purpose and so caused the following to be issued:
Special Orders No. 122HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY,ADJUTANT GENERAL'S OFFICE,WASHINGTON, May 24, 1900
Extract
34. By direction of the Secretary of War, a board of medical officers is appointed to meet at Camp Columbia, Quemados, Cuba, for the purpose of pursuing scientific investigations with reference to the infectious diseases prevalent on the Island of Cuba. Detail for the board:
Major Walter Reed, surgeon, U. S. Army;Acting Assistant Surgeon James Carroll, U. S. Army;Acting Assistant Surgeon Aristides Agramonte, U. S. Army;Acting Assistant Surgeon Jesse W. Lazear, U. S. Army.
The board will act under general instructions to becommunicated to Major Reed by the Surgeon General of the Army.By command of MAJOR GENERAL MILES,H. C. CORBIN,Adjutant General
It may be of interest to the reader to learn who these men were and the reasons why they were probably selected for the work.
Major Reed, the first member in the order of appointment, was the ranking officer and therefore the chairman of the board. He was a regular army officer, at the time curator of the Army Medical Museum in Washington and a bacteriologist of some repute. He deservedly enjoyed the full confidence of the surgeon general, besides his personal friendship and regard. Reed was a man of charming personality, honest and above board. Every one who knew him loved him and confided in him. A polished gentleman and a scientist of the highest order, he was peculiarly fitted for the work before him.
Dr. James Carroll, the second member of the board, was a self-made man, having risen from the ranks through his own efforts: while a member of the Army Hospital Corps he studied medicine and subsequently took several courses at Johns Hopkins University in the laboratory branches. At the time of his appointment to the board he had been for several years an able assistant to Major Reed. Personally, Carroll was industrious and of a retiring disposition.