1 . INTRODUCTION IT HAS recently become practical to use the radio emission of the moon and planets as a new source of information about these bodies and their atmospheres . The results of present observations of the thermal radio emission of the moon are consistent with the very low thermal conductivity of the surface layer which was derived from the variation in the infrared emission during eclipses ( e.g. , Garstung , 1958 ) . When sufficiently accurate and complete measurements are available , it will be possible to set limits on the thermal and electrical characteristics of the surface and subsurface materials of the moon . Observations of the radio emission of a planet which has an extensive atmosphere will probe the atmosphere to a greater extent than those using shorter wave lengths and should in some cases give otherwise unobtainable information about the characteristics of the solid surface . Radio observations of Venus and Jupiter have already supplied unexpected experimental data on the physical conditions of these planets . The observed intensity of the radio emission of Venus is much higher than the expected thermal intensity , although the spectrum indicated by measurements at wave lengths near 3 cm and 1o cm is like that of a black body at about 6oo° K. This result suggests a very high temperature at the solid surface of the planet , although there is the possibility that the observed radiation may be a combination of both thermal and non-thermal components and that the observed spectrum is that of a black body merely by coincidence . For the case of Jupiter , the radio emission spectrum is definitely not like the spectrum of a black-body radiator , and it seems very likely that the radiation reaching the earth is a combination of thermal radiation from the atmosphere and non-thermal components . Of the remaining planets , only Mars and Saturn have been observed as radio sources , and not very much information is available . Mars has been observed twice at about 3-cm wave length , and the intensity of the observed radiation is in reasonable agreement with the thermal radiation which might be predicted on the basis of the known temperature of Mars . The low intensity of the radiation from Saturn has limited observations , but again the measured radiation seems to be consistent with a thermal origin . No attempts to measure the radio emission of the remaining planets have been reported , and , because of their distances , small diameters , or low temperatures , the thermal radiation at radio wave lengths reaching the earth from these sources is expected to be of very low intensity . In spite of this , the very large radio reflectors and improved amplifying techniques which are now becoming available should make it possible to observe the radio emission of most of the planets in a few years . The study of the radio emission of the moon and planets began with the detection of the thermal radiation of the moon at 1.25-cm wave length by Dicke and Beringer ( 1946 ) . This was followed by a comprehensive series of observations of the 1.25-cm emission of the moon over three lunar cycles by Piddington and Minnett ( 1949 ) . They deduced from their measurements that the radio emission from the whole disk of the moon varied during a lunation in a roughly sinusoidal fashion ; that the amplitude of the variation was considerably less than the amplitude of the variation in the infrared emission as measured by Pettit and Nicholson ( 1930 ) and Pettit ( 1935 ) ; and that the maximum of the radio emission came about 3-1/2 days after Full Moon , which is again in contrast to the infrared emission , which reaches its maximum at Full Moon . Piddington and Minnett explained their observations by pointing out that rocklike materials which are likely to make up the surface of the moon would be partially transparent to radio waves , although opaque to infrared radiation . The infrared emission could then be assumed to originate at the surface of the moon , while the radio emission originates at some depth beneath the surface , where the temperature variation due to solar radiation is reduced in amplitude and shifted in phase . Since the absorption of radio waves in rocklike material varies with wave length , it should be possible to sample the temperature variation at different depths beneath the surface and possibly detect changes in the structure or composition of the lunar surface material . The radio emission of a planet was first detected in 1955 , when Burke and Franklin ( 1955 ) identified the origin of interference-like radio noise on their records at about 15 meters wave length as emission from Jupiter . This sporadic type of planetary radiation is discussed by Burke ( chap . 13 ) and Gallet ( chap . 14 ) . Steady radiation which was presumably of thermal origin was observed from Venus at 3.15 and 9.4 cm , and from Mars and Jupiter at 3.15 cm in 1956 ( Mayer , McCullough , and Sloanaker , 1958a , b , c ) , and from Saturn at 3.75 cm in 1957 ( Drake and Ewen , 1958 ) . In the relatively short time since these early observations , Venus has been observed at additional wave lengths in the range from 0.8 to 10.2 cm , and Jupiter has been observed over the wave-length range from 3.03 to 68 cm . The observable characteristics of planetary radio radiation are the intensity , the polarization , and the direction of arrival of the waves . The maximum angular diameter of any planetary disk as observed from the earth is about 1 minute of arc . This is much smaller than the highest resolution of even the very large reflectors now under construction , and consequently the radio emission of different regions of the disk can not be resolved . It should be possible , however , to put useful limits on the diameters of the radio sources by observing with large reflectors or with interferometers . Measurements of polarization are presently limited by apparatus sensitivity and will remain difficult because of the low intensity of the planetary radiation at the earth . There have been few measurements specifically for the determination of the polarization of planetary radiation . The measurements made with the NRL 50-foot reflector , which is altitude-azimuth-mounted , would have shown a systematic change with local hour angle in the measured intensities of Venus and Jupiter if a substantial part of the radiation had been linearly polarized . Recent interferometer measurements ( Radhakrishnan and Roberts , 1960 ) have shown the 960-Mc emission of Jupiter to be partially polarized and to originate in a region of larger diameter than the visible disk . Other than this very significant result , most of the information now available about the radio emission of the planets is restricted to the intensity of the radiation . The concept of apparent black-body temperature is used to describe the radiation received from the moon and the planets . The received radiation is compared with the radiation from a hypothetical black body which subtends the same solid angle as the visible disk of the planet . The apparent black-body disk temperature is the temperature which must be assumed for the black body in order that the intensity of its radiation should equal that of the observed radiation . The use of this concept does not specify the origin of the radiation , and only if the planet really radiates as a black body , will the apparent black-body temperature correspond to the physical temperature of the emitting material . The radio radiation of the sun which is reflected from the moon and planets should be negligible compared with their thermal emission at centimeter wave lengths , except possibly at times of exceptional outbursts of solar radio noise . The quiescent level of centimeter wave-length solar radiation would increase the average disk brightness temperature by less than 1° K. At meter wave lengths and increase of the order of 10° K in the average disk temperatures of the nearer planets would be expected . Therefore , neglecting the extreme outbursts , reflected solar radiation is not expected to cause sizable errors in the measurements of planetary radiation in the centimeter — and decimeter-wave-length range . 2 . THE MOON 2.1 OBSERVATIONS Radio observations of the moon have been made over the range of wave lengths from 4.3 mm to 75 cm , and the results are summarized in Table 1 . Observations have also been made at 1.5 mm using optical techniques ( Sinton , 1955 , 1956 , ; see also chap . 11 ) . Not all the observers have used the same procedures or made the same assumptions about the lunar brightness distribution when reducing the data , and this , together with differences in the methods of calibrating the antennae and receivers , must account for much of the disagreement in the measured radio brightness temperatures . In the observations at 4.3 mm ( Coates , 1959a ) , the diameter of the antenna beam , 6'.7 , was small enough to allow resolution of some of the larger features of the lunar surface , and contour diagrams have been made of the lunar brightness distribution at three lunar phases . These observations indicate that the lunar maria heat up more rapidly and also cool off more rapidly than do the mountainous regions . Mare Imbrium seems to be an exception and remains cooler than the regions which surround it . These contour diagrams also suggest a rather rapid falloff in the radio brightness with latitude . Very recently , observations have been made at 8-mm wave length with a reflector 22 meters in diameter with a resultant beam width of only about 2' ( Amenitskii , Noskova , and Salomonovich , 1960 ) . The constant-temperature contours are much smoother than those observed at 4.3 mm by Coates ( 1959a ) , and apparently the emission at 8 mm is not nearly so sensitive to differences in surface features . Such high-resolution observations as these are needed at several wave lengths in order that the radio emission of the moon can be properly interpreted . The observations of Mayer , McCullough , and Sloanaker at 3.15 cm and of Sloanaker at 10.3 cm have not previously been published and will be briefly described . Measurements at 3.15 cm were obtained on 11 days spread over the interval May 3 to June 19 , 1956 , using the 50-foot reflector at the U. S. Naval Research Laboratory in Washington . The half-intensity diameter of the antenna beam was about 9' , and the angle subtended by the moon included the entire main beam and part of the first side lobes . The antenna patterns and the power gain at the peak of the beam were both measured ( Mayer , McCullough , and Sloanaker , 1958b ) , so that the absolute power sensitivity of the antenna beam over the solid angle of the moon was known . The ratio of the measured antenna temperature change during a drift scan across the moon to the average brightness temperature of the moon over the antenna beam ( assuming that the brightness temperature of the sky is negligible ) was found , by graphical integration of the antenna directivity diagram , to be 0.85 . The measured brightness temperature is a good approximation to the brightness temperature at the center of the lunar disk because of the narrow antenna beam and because the temperature distribution over the central portion of the moon 's disk is nearly uniform . The result of the observations is ( in ° K ) **f where the phase angle , qt , is measured in degrees from new moon and the probable errors include absolute as well as relative errors . This result is plotted along with the 8.6-mm observations of Gibson ( 1958 ) in figure 1 , a . The variation in the 3-cm emission of the moon during a lunation is very much less than the variation in the 8.6-mm emission , as would be expected from the explanation of Piddington and Minnett ( 1949 ) . In the discussion which follows , the time average of the radio emission will be referred to as the constant component , and the superimposed periodic variation will be called the variable component . The 10.3-cm observation of Sloanaker was made on May 20 , 1958 , using the 84-foot reflector at the Maryland Point Observatory of the U. S. Naval Research Laboratory . The age of the moon was about 2 days . The half-intensity diameter of the main lobe of the antenna was about 18'.5 , and the brightness temperature was reduced by assuming a Gaussian shape for the antenna beam and a uniformly bright disk for the moon . ABSTRACT Experiments were made on an electric arc applying a porous graphite anode cooled by a transpiring gas ( Argon ) . Thus , the energy transferred from the arc to the anode was partly fed back into the arc . It was shown that by proper anode design the net energy loss of the arc to the anode could be reduced to approximately 15% of the total arc energy A detailed energy balance of the anode was established . The anode ablation could be reduced to a negligible amount . The dependence of the arc voltage upon the mass flow velocity of the transpirating gas was investigated for various arc lengths and currents between 100 Amp and 200 Amp . Qualitative observations were made and high-speed motion pictures were taken to study flow phenomena in the arc at various mass flow velocities . INTRODUCTION The high heat fluxes existing at the electrode surfaces of electric arcs necessitate extensive cooling to prevent electrode ablation . The cooling requirements are particularly severe at the anode . In free burning electric arcs , for instance , approximately 90% of the total arc power is transferred to the anode giving rise to local heat fluxes in excess of **f as measured by the authors — the exact value depending on the arc atmosphere . In plasma generators as currently commercially available for industrial use or as high temperature research tools often more than 50% of the total energy input is being transferred to the co0ling medium of the anode . The higher heat transfer rates at the anode compared with those at the cathode can be explained by the physical phenomena occurring in free burning arcs . In plasma generators the superimposed forced convection may modify the picture somewhat . The heat transfer to the anode is due to the following effects : 1 . Heat of condensation ( work function ) plus kinetic energy of the electrons impinging on the anode . This energy transfer depends on the current , the temperature in the arc column , the anode material , and the conditions in the anode sheath . 2 . Heat transfer by molecular conduction as well as by radiation from the arc column . The heat transfer to the anode in free burning arcs is enhanced by a hot gas jet flowing from the cathode towards the anode with velocities up **f . This phenomenon has been experimentally investigated in detail by Maecker ( Ref. 1 ) . The pressure gradient producing the jet is due to the nature of the magnetic field in the arc ( rapid decrease of current density from cathode to the anode ) . Hence , the flow conditions at the anode of free burning arcs resemble those near a stagnation point . it is apparent from the above and from experimental evidence that the cooling requirements for the anode of free burning arcs are large compared with those for the cathode . The gas flow through a plasma generator will modify these conditions ; however , the anode is still the part receiving the largest heat flux . An attempt to improve the life of the anodes or the efficiency of the plasma generators must , therefore , aim at a reduction of the anode loss . The following possibilities exist for achieving this : 1 . The use of high voltages and low currents by proper design to reduce electron heat transfer to the anode for a given power output . 2 . Continuous motion of the arc contact area at the anode by flow or magnetic forces . 3 . Feed back of the energy transferred to the anode by applying gas transpiration through the anode . The third method was , to our knowledge , successfully applied for the first time by C. Sheer and co-workers ( Ref. 2 ) . The purpose of the present study is to study the thermal conditions and to establish an energy balance for a transpiration cooled anode as well as the effect of blowing on the arc voltage . Gas injection through a porous anode ( transpiration cooling ) not only feeds back the energy transferred to the anode by the above mentioned processes , but also modifies the conditions in the arc itself . A detailed study of this latter phenomenon was not attempted in this paper . Argon was used as a blowing gas to exclude any effects of dissociation or chemical reaction . The anode material was porous graphite . Sintered porous metals should be usable in principle . However , technical difficulties arise by melting at local hot spots . The experimental arrangement as described below is based on the geometry of free burning arcs . Thus , direct comparisons can be drawn with free burning arcs which have been studied in detail during the past years and decades by numerous investigators ( Ref. 3 ) . EXPERIMENTAL APPARATUS Figures 1 to 3 show photographic and schematic views of the test stand and of two different models of the anode holder . The cathode consisted of a 1/4'' diameter thoriated tungsten rod attached to a water cooled copper tube . This tube could be adjusted in its axial direction by an electric drive to establish the required electrode spacing . The anode in figure 2 was mounted by means of the anode holder which was attached to a steel plug and disk . The transpiring gas ejected from the anode formed a jet directed axially towards the cathode below . Inflow of air from the surrounding atmosphere was prevented by the two disks shown in figure 2 . Argon was also blown at low velocities ( mass flow rate **f ) through a tube coaxial with the cathode as an additional precaution against contamination of the arc by air . The anode consisted of a 1/2 inch diameter porous graphite plug , 1/4 inch long . The graphite was National Carbon NC 60 , which has a porosity of 50% and an average pore size of 30 This small pore size was required to ensure uniformity of the flow leaving the anode . The anode plug ( Figure 2 ) was inserted into a carbon anode holder . A shielded thermocouple was used to measure the upstream temperature of the transpiring gas . It was exposed to a high velocity gas jet . A plug and a tube with holes in its cylindrical walls divided the chamber above the porous plug into two parts . This arrangement had the purpose to prevent heated gas to reach the thermocouple by natural convection . Two pyrometers shown in figure 1 and 2 ( Pyrometer Instrument Co . Model 95 ) served for simultaneous measurement of the anode surface temperature and the temperature distribution along the anode holder . Three thermocouples were placed at different locations in the aluminum disk surrounding the anode holder to determine its temperature . Another anode holder used in the experiments is shown in figure 3 . In this design the anode holder is water cooled and the heat losses by conduction from the anode were determined by measuring the temperature rise of the coolant . To reduce heat transfer from the hot has to this anode holder outside the regime of the arc , a carbon shield was attached tothe surface providing an air gap of 1/16 inch between the plate and the surface of the anode holder . In addition , the inner surface of the carbon shield was covered with aluminum foil to reduce radiation . Temperatures of the shield and of the surface of the water-cooled anode holder were measured by thermocouples to account for heat received by the coolant but not originating from the anode plug . The argon flow from commercial bottles was regulated by a pressure regulator and measured with a gas flow rator . The power source was a commercial D. C. rectifier . At 100 Amp the 360 cycle ripple was less than 0.5 V ( peak to peak ) with a resistive load . The current was regulated by means of a variable resistor and measured with a 50 mV shunt and millivoltmeter . The arc voltage was measured with a voltmeter whose terminals were connected to the anode and cathode holders . Because of the falling characteristic of the rectifier , no ballast resistor was required for stability of operation . A high frequency starter was used to start the arc . EXPERIMENTAL PROCEDURE AND ERROR ANALYSIS 1 . TRANSPIRATION COOLED ANODE WITH CARBON ANODE HOLDER The anode holder shown in figure 2 was designed with two goals in mind . The heat losses of the holder were to be reduced as far as possible and they should be such that an accurate heat balance can be made . In order to reduce the number of variable parameters , all experiments were made with a constant arc length of 0.5'' and a current of 100 Amp . The argon flow through the porous anode was varied systematically between **f . and **f . The lower limit was determined by the fact that for smaller flow rates the arc started to strike to the anode holder instead of to the porous graphite plug and that it became highly unstable . The upper limit was determined by the difficulty of measuring the characteristic anode surface temperature ( see below ) since only a small region of the anode was struck by the arc . This region which had a higher temperature than the rest of the anode surface changed size and location continuously . For each mass flow rate the arc voltage was measured . To measure the surface temperature of the anode plug , the surface was scanned with a pyrometer . As it turned out , a very hot region occurred on the plug . Its temperature was denoted by **f . The size of this hot region was estimated by eye . The rest of the surface had a temperature which decreased towards the outer diameter of the plug . The mean temperature of this region was approximated by the temperature measured halfways between the edge of the hot spot and the rim of the plug . It was denoted by **f . The mean temperature of the surface was then computed according to the following relation : **f where x is the fraction of the plug area covered by the hot spot . Assuming thermal equilibrium between the anode surface and the transpiring argon , the gas enthalpy rise through the anode was calculated according to the relation **f whereby the specific heat of argon was taken as **f . This calculation results in an enthalpy rise which is somewhat high because it assumes a mass flow equally distributed over the plug cross section whereas in reality the mass velocity is expected to be smaller in the regions of higher temperatures . The upstream gas temperature measured with the thermocouple shown in figure 2 was **f . The **f values are listed in Table 1 together with the measured surface temperatures and arc voltages . Simultaneously with the anode surface temperature and voltage measurements pyrometer readings were taken along the cylindrical surface of the carbon anode holder as indicated on figure 2 . Some of these temperatures are plotted in figure 4 . They showed no marked dependence on the flow rate within the accuracy of these measurements . Thus , the dotted line shown in figure 4 was taken as typical for the temperature distribution for all blowing rates . The thermocouples in the aluminum disk shown in figure 2 indicated an equilibrium temperature of the surface of **f . This temperature was taken as environmental temperature to which the anode holder was exposed as far as radiation is concerned . It is sufficiently small compared with the surface temperature of the anode holder , to make the energy flux radiated from the environment toward the anode holder negligible within the accuracy of the present measurements . The reflection of radiation originating from the anode holder and reflected back to it by the surrounding metal surfaces should also be small because of the specular characteristic of the metal surfaces and of the specific geometry . The total heat loss through the anode holder included also the heat conducted through the base of the cylindrical piece into the adjacent metal parts . It was calculated from the temperature gradient **f at **f inch as **f . The total heat flux from the porous plug into the plug holder is thereby **f The temperature distribution of figure 4 gives **f for all blowing rates , assuming **f . The temperature dependent value of e was taken from Ref. 7 . The radiation loss from the anode surface was computed according to **f where **f is the mean of the fourth powers of the temperatures **f and **f calculated analogously to equation ( 1 ) . A band viscometer is shown in Figure 2 . It consists of two blocks with flat surfaces held apart by shims . There is a small well in the top in which the fluid or paste to be tested is placed . A tape of cellulose acetate is pulled between the blocks and the tape pulls the fluid or paste with it between the parallel faces of the blocks . In normal use weights are hung on the end of the tape and allowed to pull the tape and the material to be tested between the blocks . After it has reached terminal velocity , the time for the tape to travel a known distance is recorded . By the use of various weights , data for a force-rate of shear graph can be obtained . The instrument used for this work was a slight modification of that previously described . In this test a **f tape was pulled between the blocks with a motor and pulley at a rate of **f with a clearance of 0.002'' on each side of the tape . This gives a rate of shear of **f . This , however , can only be considered approximate , as the diameter of the pulley was increased by the build-up of tape and the tape was occasionally removed from the pulley during the runs . The face of one block contained a hole 1/16'' in diameter which led to a manometer for the measurement of the normal pressure . Although there were only four fluids tested , it was apparent that there were two distinct types . Two of the fluids showed a high-positive normal pressure when undergoing shear , and two showed small negative pressures which were negligible in comparison with the amount of the positive pressures generated by the other two . Figure 3 shows the data on a silicone fluid , labeled 12,500 cps which gave a high positive normal pressure . Although the tape was run for over 1 hr. , a steady state was not reached , and it was concluded that the reason for this was that the back pressure of the manometer was built up from the material fed from between the blocks and this was available at a very slow rate . A system had to be used which did not depend upon the feeding of the fluid into the manometer if measurements of the normal pressure were to be made in a reasonable time . A back pressure was then introduced , and the rise or fall of the material in the manometer indicated which was greater , the normal pressure in the block or the back pressure . By this method it was determined that the normal pressure exerted by a sample of polybutene ( molecular weight reported to be 770 ) was over half an atmosphere . The actual pressure was not determined because the pressure was beyond the upper limit of the apparatus on hand . The two fluids which gave the small negative pressures were polybutenes with molecular weights which were stated to be 520 and 300 . These are fluids which one would expect to be less viscoelastic or more Newtonian because of their lower molecular weight . The maximum suction was 3.25'' of test fluid measured from the top of the block , and steady states were apparently reached with these fluids . It is presumed that this negative head was associated with some geometric factor of the assembly , since different readings were obtained with the same fluid and the only apparent difference was the assembly and disassembly of the apparatus . This negative pressure is not explained by the velocity head **f since this is not sufficient to explain the readings by several magnitudes . These experiments can be considered exploratory only . However , they do demonstrate the presence of large normal pressures in the presence of flat shear fields which were forecast by the theory in the first part of the paper . They also give information which will aid in the design of a more satisfactory instrument for the measurement of the normal pressures . Such an instrument would be useful for the characterization of many commercial materials as well as theoretical studies . The elasticity as a parameter of fluids which is not subject to simple measurement at present , and it is a parameter which is probably varying in an unknown manner with many commercial materials . Such an instrument is expected to be especially useful if it could be used to measure the elasticity of heavy pastes such as printing inks , paints , adhesives , molten plastics , and bread dough , for the elasticity is related to those various properties termed " length " , " shortness " , " spinnability " , etc. , which are usually judged by subjective methods at present . The actual change **f caused by a shear field is calculated by multiplying the pressure differential times the volume , just as it is for any gravitational or osmotic pressure head . If the volume is the molal volume , then **f is obtained on a molal basis which is the customary terminology of the chemists . Although the **f calculation is obvious by analogy with that for gravitational field and osmotic pressure , it is interesting to confirm it by a method which can be generalized to include related effects . Consider a shear field with a height of H and a cross-sectional area of A opposed by a manometer with a height of h ( referred to the same base as H ) and a cross-sectional area of a . If **f is the change per unit volume in Gibbs function caused by the shear field at constant P and T , and r is the density of the fluid , then the total potential energy of the system above the reference height is **f . **f is the work necessary to fill the manometer column from the reference height to h . The total volume of the system above the reference height is **f , and h can be eliminated to obtain an equation for the total potential energy of the system in terms of H. The minimum total potential energy is found by taking the derivative with respect to H and equating to zero . This gives **f , which is the pressure . This is interesting for it combines both the thermodynamic concept of a minimum Gibbs function for equilibrium and minimum mechanical potential energy for equilibrium . This method can be extended to include the concentration differences caused by shear fields . The relation between osmotic pressure and the Gibbs function may also be developed in an analogous way . In the above development we have applied the thermodynamics of equilibrium ( referred to by some as thermostatics ) to the steady state . This can be justified thermodynamically in this case , and this will be done in a separate paper which is being prepared . This has an interesting analogy with the assumption stated by Philippoff that " the deformational mechanics of elastic solids can be applied to flowing solutions " . There is one exception to the above statement as has been pointed out , and that is that fluids can relax by flowing into fields of lower rates of shear , so the statement should be modified by stating that the mechanics are similar . If the mechanics are similar , we can also infer that the thermodynamics will also be similar . The concept of the strain energy as a Gibbs function difference **f and exerting a force normal to the shearing face is compatible with the information obtained from optical birefringence studies of fluids undergoing shear . Essentially these birefringence studies show that at low rates of shear a tension is present at 45° to the direction of shear , and as the rate of shear increases , the direction of the maximum tension moves asymptotically toward the direction of shear . According to Philippoff , the recoverable shear s is given by **f where c is the angle of extinction . From this and the force of deformation it should be possible to calculate the elastic energy of deformation which should be equal to the **f calculated from the pressure normal to the shearing face . There is another means which should show the direction and relative value of the stresses in viscoelastic fluids that is not mentioned as such in the literature , and that is the shape of the suspended drops of low viscosity fluids in shear fields . These droplets are distorted by the normal forces just as a balloon would be pulled or pressed out of shape in one 's hands . These droplets appear to be ellipsoids , and it is mathematically convenient to assume that they are . If they are not ellipsoids , the conclusions will be a reasonable approximation . The direction of the tension of minimum pressure is , of course , given by the direction of the major axis of the ellipsoids . Mason and Taylor both show that the major axis of the ellipsoids is at 45° at low rates of shear and that it approaches the direction of shear with increased rates of shear . ( Some suspensions break up before they are near to the direction of shear , and some become asymptotic to it without breakup . ) This is , of course , a similar type of behavior to that indicated by birefringence studies . The relative forces can be calculated from the various radii of curvature if we assume : ( A ) The surface tension is uniform on the surface of the drop . ( B ) That because of the low viscosity of the fluid , the internal pressure is the same in all directions . ( C ) The kinetic effects are negligible . ( D ) Since the shape of the drop conforms to the force field , it does not appreciably affect the distribution of forces in the fluid . These are reasonable assumptions with low viscosity fluids suspended in high viscosity fluids which are subjected to low rates of shear . Just as the pressure exerted by surface tension in a spherical drop is **f and the pressure exerted by surface tension on a cylindrical shape is **f , the pressure exerted by any curved surface is **f , where g is the interfacial tension and **f and **f are the two radii of curvature . This formula is given by Rumscheidt and Mason . If a is the major axis of an ellipsoid and b and c are the other two axes , the radius of curvature in the ab plane at the end of the axis is **f , and the difference in pressure along the a and b axes is **f . There are no data published in the literature on the shape of low viscosity drops to confirm the above formulas . However , there are photographs of suspended drops of cyclohexanol phthalate ( viscosity 155 poises ) suspended in corn syrup of 71 poises in a paper by Mason and Bartok . This viscosity of the material in the drops is , of course , not negligible . Measurements on the photograph in this paper give **f at the maximum rate of shear of **f . If it is assumed that the formula given by Lodge of **f , cosec 2c applies , the pressure difference along the major axes can be calculated from the angle of inclination of the major axis , and from this the interfacial tension can be calculated . Its value was **f from the above data . This appears to be high , as would be expected from the appreciable viscosity of the material in the drops . It is appropriate to call attention to certain thermodynamic properties of an ideal gas that are analogous to rubber-like deformation . The internal energy of an ideal gas depends on temperature only and is independent of pressure or volume . In other words , if an ideal gas is compressed and kept at constant temperature , the work done in compressing it is completely converted into heat and transferred to the surrounding heat sink . This means that work equals q which in turn equals **f . There is a well-known relationship between probability and entropy which states that **f , where q is the probability that state ( i.e. , volume for an ideal gas ) could be reached by chance alone . this is known as conformational entropy . This conformational entropy is , in this case , equal to the usual entropy , for there are no other changes or other energies involved . Note that though the ideal gas itself contains no additional energy , the compressed gas does exert an increased pressure . The energy for any isothermal work done by the perfect gas must come as thermal energy from its surroundings . A proton magnetic resonance study of polycrystalline **f as a function of magnetic field and temperature is presented . **f is paramagnetic , and electron paramagnetic dipole as well as nuclear dipole effects lead to line broadening . The lines are asymmetric and over the range of field **f gauss and temperature **f the asymmetry increases with increasing **f and decreasing T. An isotropic resonance shift of **f to lower applied fields indicates a weak isotropic hyperfine contact interaction . The general theory of resonance shifts is used to derive a general expression for the second moment **f of a polycrystalline paramagnetic sample and is specialized to **f . The theory predicts a linear dependence of **f on **f , where j is the experimentally determined Curie-Weiss constant . The experimental second moment **f conforms to the relation **f in agreement with theory . Hence , the electron paramagnetic effects ( slope ) can be separated from the nuclear effects ( intercept ) . The paramagnetic dipole effects provide some information on the particle shapes . The nuclear dipole effects provide some information on the motions of the hydrogen nuclei , but the symmetry of the **f bond in **f remains in doubt . INTRODUCTION THE magnetic moment of an unpaired electron associated nearby may have a tremendous influence on the magnetic resonance properties of nuclei . It is important to consider and experimentally verify this influence since quantitative nuclear resonance is becoming increasingly used in investigations of structure . **f appeared to be well suited for the study of these matters , since it is a normal paramagnet , with three unpaired electrons on the chromium , its crystal structure is very simple , and the unknown position of the hydrogen in the strong **f bond provides structural interest . We first discuss the **f bond in **f . We then outline the theory of the interaction of paramagnetic dipoles with nuclei and show that the theory is in excellent agreement with experiment . Indeed it is possible to separate electron paramagnetic from nuclear effects . The information provided by the electron paramagnetic effects is then discussed , and finally the nuclear effects are interpreted in terms of various motional-modified models of the **f bond in **f . **F BOND IN **F Theoretical studies of the hydrogen bond generally agree that the **f bond will be linear in the absence of peculiarities of packing in the solid . Moreover , it will be asymmetric until a certain critical **f distance is reached , below which it will become symmetric . There is ample evidence from many sources that the **f bond in **f is symmetric . The **f distance in **f is 2.26 A. There is evidence , though less convincing than for **f , that the **f bond in nickel dimethylglyoxime is symmetric . Here the **f distance is 2.44 A. A number of semiempirical estimates by various workers lead to the conclusion that the **f bond becomes symmetric when the **f bond length is about 2.4 to 2.5 A , but aside from the possible example of nickel dimethylglyoxime there have been no convincing reports of symmetric **f bonds . Douglass has studied the crystal structure of **f by x-ray diffraction . He finds the structure contains an **f bond with the **f distance of **f . There is , then , the possibility that this **f bond is symmetric , although Douglass was unable to determine its symmetry from his x-ray data . Douglass found **f to be trigonal , Laue symmetry **f , with **f , **f . X-ray and experimental density showed one formula unit in the unit cell , corresponding to a paramagnetic ion density of **f . The x-ray data did not permit Douglass to determine uniquely the space group , but a negative test for piezoelectricity led him to assume a center of symmetry . Under this assumption the space group must be **f and the following are the positions of the atoms in the unit cell . **f . This space group requires the hydrogen bond to be symmetric . Douglass found powder intensity calculations and measurements to agree best for **f . These data lead to a structure in which sheets of Cr atoms lie between two sheets of O atoms . The O atoms in each sheet are close packed and each Cr atom is surrounded by a distorted octahedron of O atoms . The **f layers are stacked normal to the [ 111 ] axis with the lower oxygens of one layer directly above the upper oxygens of the neighboring lower layer , in such a manner that the repeat is every three layers . The separate layers are joined together by hydrogen bonds . A drawing of the structure is to be found in reference 6 . The gross details of the structure appear reasonable . The structure appears to be unique among ROOH compounds , but is the same as that assumed by **f . The bond angles and distances are all within the expected limits and the volume per oxygen is about normal . However , the possible absence of a center of symmetry not only moves the hydrogen atom off **f , but also allows the oxygen atoms to become nonequivalent , with **f at **f and **f at **f ( space group **f ) , where **f represents the oxygens on one side of the **f layers and **f those on the other side . However , any oxygen nonequivalence would shorten either the already extremely short **f interlayer distance of 2.55 A or the non-hydrogen-bonded **f interlayer interactions which are already quite short at 2.58 A. Hence it is difficult to conceive of a packing of the atoms in this material in which the oxygen atoms are far from geometrical equivalence . The only effect of lack of a center would then be to release the hydrogen atoms to occupy general , rather than special , positions along the [ 111 ] axis . If the **f bond is linear then there are three reasonable positions for the hydrogen atoms : ( 1 ) The hydrogen atoms are centered and hence all lie on a sheet midway between the oxygen sheets ; ( 2 ) all hydrogen atoms lie on a sheet , but the sheet is closer to one oxygen sheet than to the other ; ( 3 ) hydrogen atoms are asymmetrically placed , either randomly or in an ordered way , so that some hydrogen atoms are closer to the upper oxygen atoms while others are closer to the lower oxygen atoms . Position ( 2 ) appears to us to be unlikely in view of the absence of a piezoelectric effect and on general chemical structural grounds . A randomization of " ups " and " downs " is more likely than ordered " ups " and " downs " in position ( 3 ) since the hydrogen atoms are well separated and so the position of one could hardly affect the position of another , and also since ordered " up " and " down " implies a larger unit cell , for which no evidence exists . Therefore , the only unknown structural feature would appear to be whether the hydrogen atoms are located symmetrically ( 1 ) or asymmetrically ( 3 ) . EXPERIMENTAL PROCEDURES SAMPLES Douglass prepared his sample of **f by thermal decomposition of aqueous chromic acid at 300-325°C . Dr. Douglass was kind enough to lend us about 5 grams of his material . This material proved to be unsatisfactory , since we could not obtain reproducible results on various portions of the sample . Subsequently , we learned from Douglass that his sample contained a few percent **f impurity . Since **f is ferromagnetic , we felt that any results obtained from the magnetically contaminated **f would be suspect . Plane suggested another preparation of **f which we used here . 500 ml of 1M aqueous **f with 1 g **f added are heated in a bomb at 170°C for 48 hours . A very fine , gray solid ( about 15 g ) is formed , water-washed by centrifugation , and dried at 110°C . Differential thermal analysis showed a very small endothermic reaction at 340°C and a large endothermic reaction at 470°C . This latter reaction is in accord with the reported decomposition of **f . Thermogravimetric analysis showed a weight loss of 1.8% centered at 337°C and another weight loss of 10.8% at 463°C . The expected weight loss for **f going to **f and **f is 10.6% . Mass spectrometric analysis of gases evolved upon heating to 410°C indicated nitrogen oxides and water vapor . The small reaction occurring at 337°C is probably caused by decomposition of occluded nitrates , and perhaps by a small amount of some hydrous material other than **f . All subsequent measurements were made on material which had been heated to 375°C for one hour . Emission spectra indicated **f calcium and all other impurities much lower . Chromium analysis gave 58.8% Cr as compared with 61.2% theory . However , **f adsorbs water from the atmosphere and this may account for the low chromium analysis and high total weight loss . The x-ray diffraction pattern of the material , taken with CuKa radiation , indicated the presence of no extra lines and was in good agreement with the pattern of Douglass . Magnetic analyses by R. G. Meisenheimer of this laboratory indicated no ferromagnetic impurities. **f was found to be paramagnetic with three unpaired electron per chromium atom and a molecular susceptibility of **f , where **f . For exactly three unpaired electrons the coefficient would be 3.10 . An infrared spectrum , obtained by H. A. Benesi and R. G. Snyder of this laboratory , showed bands in the positions found by Jones . Electron microscopic examination of the **f sample showed it to be composed of nearly isotropic particles about 0.3m in diameter . The particles appeared rough and undoubtedly the single-crystal domains are smaller than this . The x-ray data are consistent with particle sizes of 1000 A or greater . We found no obvious effects due to preferred orientation of the crystallites in this sample nor would we expect to on the basis of the shape found from electron microscopic examination . NUCLEAR MAGNETIC RESONANCE ( NMR ) MEASUREMENTS The magnetic resonance absorption was detected by employing a Varian model **f broad line spectrometer and the associated 12-inch electromagnet system . One measurement at 40 Mc/sec was obtained with the Varian model **f unit . A bridged-T type of bridge was used in the 10-16 Mc/sec range . The rf power level was maintained small enough at all times to prevent obvious line shape distortions by saturation effects . A modulation frequency of 40 cps with an amplitude as small as possible , commensurate with reasonably good signal-to-noise quality , was used . Background spectra were obtained in all cases . The spectrometer was adjusted to minimize the amount of dispersion mode mixed in with the absorption signal . A single value of the thermal relaxation time **f at room temperature was measured by the progressive saturation method . The value of **f estimated at 470 gauss was **f microseconds . A single measurement of the spin-spin relaxation time **f was obtained at 10 Mc/sec by pulse methods . This measurement was obtained by W. Blumberg of the University of California , Berkeley , by observing the breadth of the free induction decay signal . The value derived was 16 microseconds . Field shifts were derived from the mean value of the resonance line , defined as the field about which the first moment is zero . Second moments of the spectra were computed by numerical integration . Corrections were applied for modulation broadening , apparatus background , and field shift . Spectra were obtained over the temperature range of 77-294°K . For the low-temperature measurements the sample was cooled by a cold nitrogen gas flow method similar to that of Andrew and Eades . The temperature was maintained to within about **f for the period of time required to make the measurement ( usually about one hour ) . One sample , which had been exposed to the atmosphere after evacuation at 375°C , showed the presence of adsorbed water ( about 0.3 wt % ) as evidenced by a weak resonance line which was very narrow at room temperature and which disappeared , due to broadening , at low temperature . The data reported here are either from spectra from which the adsorbed water resonance could easily be eliminated or from spectra of samples evacuated and sealed off at 375°C which contain no adsorbed water . The measured powder density of the **f used here was about **f , approximately one-third that of the crystal density ( **f ) . Such a density corresponds to a paramagnetic ion density of about **f . Spectra were obtained from a powdered sample having the shape of a right circular cylinder with a height-to-diameter ratio of 4:1 . The top of the sample was nearly flat and the bottom hemispherical . Spectra were also obtained from a sample in a spherical container which was made by blowing a bubble on the end of a capillary glass tube . The bubble was filled to the top and special precautions were taken to prevent any sample from remaining in the capillary . Spectra were also obtained from a third sample of **f which had been diluted to three times its original volume with powdered , anhydrous alundum ( **f ) . This sample was contained in a cylindrical container similar to that described above . Polyphosphates gave renewed life to soap products at a time when surfactants were a threat though expensive , and these same polyphosphates spelled the decline of soap usage when the synergism between polyphosphates and synthetic detergent actives was recognized and exploited . The market today for detergent builders is quite diverse . The best known field of application for builders is in heavy-duty , spray-dried detergent formulations for household use . These widely advertised products , which are used primarily for washing clothes , are based on high-sudsing , synthetic organic actives ( sodium alkylbenzenesulfonates ) and contain up to 50% by weight of sodium tripolyphosphate or a mixture of sodium tripolyphosphate and tetrasodium pyrophosphate . In the household market , there are also low-sudsing detergent formulations based on nonionic actives with about the same amount of phosphate builder ; light-duty synthetic detergents with much less builder ; and the dwindling built-soap powders as well as soap flakes and granules , none of which are now nationally advertised . A well-publicized entrant which has achieved success only recently is the built liquid detergent , with which the major problem today is incorporation of builder and active into a small volume using a sufficiently high builder/active ratio . Hard-surface cleaning in household application is represented by two classes of alkaline products : ( 1 ) the formulations made expressly for machine dishwashers , and ( 2 ) the general-purpose cleaners used for walls and woodwork . The better quality products in both of these lines contain phosphate builders . In addition , many of the hard-surface cleaners used for walls and woodwork had their genesis in trisodium orthophosphate , which is still the major ingredient of a number of such products . Many scouring powders now also contain phosphates . These hard-surface cleaners are discussed in Chapter 28 . THE CLEANING PROCESS Cleaning or detergent action is entirely a matter of surfaces . Wet cleaning involves an aqueous medium , a solid substrate , soil to be removed , and the detergent or surface-active material . An oversimplified differentiation between soft — and hard-surface cleaning lies in the magnitude and kind of surface involved . One gram of cotton has been found to have a specific surface area of **f . In contrast , a metal coupon **f in size would have a magnitude from 100,000 to a million less . Even here there is room for some variation , for metal surfaces vary in smoothness , absorptive capacity , and chemical reactivity . Spring used a Brush surface-analyzer in a metal-cleaning study and showed considerable differences in soil removal , depending upon surface roughness . There are considerable differences between the requirements for textile and hard-surface cleaning . Exclusive of esthetic values , such as high — or low-foam level , perfume content , etc. , the requirements for the organic active used in washing textiles are high . No matter how they are formulated , a large number of organic actives are simply not suitable for this application , since they do not give adequate soil removal . This is best demonstrated by practical washing tests in which cloth articles are repeatedly washed with the same detergent formulation . A good formulation will keep the clothes clean and white after many washings ; whereas , with a poor formulation , the clothes exhibit a build-up of " tattle-tale grey " and dirty spots — sometimes with bad results even after the first wash . Since practical washing procedures are both lengthy and expensive , a number of laboratory tests have been developed for the numerical evaluation of detergents . Harris has indicated that two devices , the Launder-Ometer and Terg-O-Tometer are most widely used for rapid detergent testing , and he has listed the commercially available standard soiled fabrics . Also given are several laboratory wash procedures in general use . The soiled fabrics used for rapid testing of detergent formulations are made in such a way that only part of the soil is removed by even the best detergent formulation in a single wash . In this way , numerical values for the relative efficacy of various detergent formulations can be obtained by measuring the reflectance ( whiteness ) of the cloth swatches before and after washing . Soil redeposition is evaluated by washing clean swatches with the dirty ones . As is the case with the surface-active agent , the requirements for builders to be used in detergent compositions for washing textiles are also high . Large numbers of potential builders have been investigated , but none have been found to be as effective as the polyphosphates over the relatively wide range of conditions met in practice . The problems of hard-surface cleaning are not nearly as complex . In hard-surface cleaning , the inorganic salts are more important than the organic active . Indeed , when the proper inorganic constituents are employed , practically any wetting or surface-active agent will do a reasonably good job when present in sufficient amount in a hard-surface cleaning formulation . Hydroxides , orthophosphates , borates , carbonates , and silicates are important inorganic ingredients of hard-surface cleaners . In addition , the polyphosphates are also used , probably acting more as peptizing agents than anything else . The importance of the inorganic constituents in hard-surface cleaning has been emphasized in a number of papers . PHYSICAL CHEMISTRY OF WASHING Although there is no question but that the process of washing fabrics involves a number of phenomena which are related together in an extremely complicated way and that these phenomena and their interrelations are not well understood at the present , this section attempts to present briefly an up-to-date picture of the physical chemistry of washing either fabrics or hard surfaces . The purpose of washing is , obviously , to remove soils which are arbitrarily classed in the four major categories given below : 1 . Dirt , which is here defined as particulate material which is usually inorganic and is very often extremely finely divided so as to exhibit colloidal properties . 2 . Greasy soils , which are typified by hydrocarbons and fats ( esters of glycerol with long-chain organic acids ) . 3 . Stains , which include the wide variety of nonparticulate materials which give color even when present in very low concentration on the soiled object . 4 . Miscellaneous soils , which primarily include sticky substances and colorless liquids which evaporate to leave a residue . The dirt on the soiled objects is mechanically held by surface irregularities to some extent . However , a major factor in binding dirt is the attraction between surfaces that goes under the name of van der Waal 's forces . This is a theoretically complicated dipole interaction which causes any extremely small uncharged particle to agglomerate with other small uncharged particles , or to stick to an uncharged surface . Obviously , if colloidal particles bear charges of opposite sign or , if one kind is charged and the other kind is not , the attraction will be intensified and the tendency to agglomerate will be greatly reinforced . Likewise , a charged particle will tend to stick to an uncharged surface and vice versa , and a charged particle will be very strongly attracted to a surface exhibiting an opposite charge . In addition , dirt particles can be held onto a soiled surface by sticky substances or by the surface tension of liquids , including liquid greases . Greases , stains , and miscellaneous soils are usually sorbed onto the soiled surface . In most cases , these soils are taken up as liquids through capillary action . In an essentially static system , an oil can not be replaced by water on a surface unless the interfacial tensions of the water phase are reduced by a surface-active agent . The washing process whereby soils are removed consists basically of applying mechanical action to loosen the dirt particles and dried matter in the presence of water which helps to float off the debris and acts , to some extent , as a dissolving and solvating agent . Greasy soils are hardly removed by washing in plain water ; and natural waters , in addition , often contain impurities such as calcium salts which can react with soils to make them more difficult to remove . Therefore , detergents are used . The detergent active is that substance which primarily acts to remove greasy soils . The other constituents in a built detergent assist in this and in the removal of dirty stains and the hydrophilic sticky or dried soils . As is well known , detergent actives belong to the chemical class consisting of moderately high molecular weight and highly polar molecules which exhibit the property of forming micelles in solution . Physicochemical investigations of anionic surfactants , including the soaps , have shown that there is little polymerization or agglomeration of the chain anions below a certain region of concentration called the critical micelle concentration . ( 1 ) Below the critical micelle concentration , monomers and some dimers are present . ( 2 ) In the critical micelle region , there is a rapid agglomeration or polymerization to give the micelles , which have a degree of polymerization averaging around 60-80. ( 3 ) For anionics , these micelles appear to be roughly spherical assemblages in which the hydrocarbon tails come together so that the polar groups ( the ionized ends ) face outward towards the aqueous continuous phase . Obviously hydrophobic ( oleophilic ) substances such as greases , oils , or particles having a greasy or oily surface are more at home in the center of a micelle than in the aqueous phase . Micelles can imbibe and hold a considerable amount of oleophilic substances so that the micelle volume may be increased as much as approximately two-fold . Although the matter has not been unequivocally demonstrated , the available data show that micelles in themselves do not contribute significantly to the detergency process . Related to micelle formation is the technologically important ability of detergent actives to congregate at oil-water interfaces in such a manner that the polar ( or ionized ) end of the molecule is directed towards the aqueous phase and the hydrocarbon chain towards the oily phase . In the cleaning process , sorbed greasy soils become coated in this manner with an oriented film of surfactant . Then during washing , the greasy soil rolls back at the edges so that emulsified droplets can disengage themselves from the sorbed oil mass , with the aid of mechanical action , and enter the aqueous phase . Obviously , a substance which is permanently or temporarily sorbed on the surface in place of the soil will tend to accelerate this process and effectively push off the greasy soil . Substances other than detergent actives also tend to be strongly sorbed from aqueous media onto surfaces of other contiguous condensed phases . This is particularly true of highly charged ions , especially those ions which fall into the class of polyelectrolytes . Whereas the usual organic surface-active agent is strongly sorbed at oil-water interfaces , the highly charged ions are most strongly sorbed at interfaces between water and insoluble materials exhibiting an ionic structure ( see Table 26-2 on p. 1678 ) . Thus , for aqueous media , we can think of the idealized organic active as an oleophilic or hydrophobic surface-active agent , and of an idealized builder as a oleophobic or hydrophilic surface-active agent . From the equilibrium sorption data which are available , it seems logical to expect that polyphosphate ions would be strongly sorbed on the surface of the dirt ( especially clay soils ) so as to give it a greatly increased negative charge . The charged particles then repel each other and are also repelled from the charged surface , which almost invariably bears a negative charge under washing conditions . The negatively charged dirt particles then leave the surface and go into the aqueous phase . This hypothesis is evolved in analogy to the demonstrated action of organic actives in detergency . It does not consider the kinetic effects of the phosphate builders on sorption-desorption phenomena which will be discussed later ( see pp. 1746-1748 ) . The crude picture of the detergency process thus far developed can be represented as : **f The influence of mechanical action on the particles of free soil may be compared to that of kinetic energy on a molecular scale . Freed soil must be dispersed and protected against flocculation . Cleaned cloth must be protected against the redeposition of dispersed soil . It is evident that the requirements imposed by these effects upon any one detergent constituent acting alone are severe . Upon consideration of the variety of soils and fabrics normally encountered in the washing process , it is little wonder that the use of a number of detergent constituents having " synergistic " properties has gained widespread acceptance . In the over-all process , it is difficult to assign a " pure " role to each constituent of a built-detergent formulation ; and , indeed , there is no more reason to separate the interrelated roles of the active , builder , antiredeposition agent , etc. than there is to assign individual actions to each of the numerous isomers making up a given commercial organic active . The thermal exchange of chlorine between **f and liquid **f is readily measurable at temperatures in the range of 180° and above . The photochemical exchange occurs with a quantum yield of the order of unity in the liquid phase at 65° using light absorbed only by the **f . In the gas phase , with **f of **f and **f of **f , quantum yields of the order of **f have been observed at 85° . Despite extensive attempts to obtain highly pure reagents , serious difficulty was experienced in obtaining reproducible rates of reaction . It appears possible to set a lower limit of about **f for the activation energy of the abstraction of a chlorine atom from a carbon tetrachloride molecule by a chlorine atom to form **f radical . The rate of the gas phase exchange reaction appears to be proportional to the first power of the absorbed light intensity indicating that the radical intermediates are removed at the walls or by reaction with an impurity rather than by bimolecular radical combination reactions . INTRODUCTION Because of the simplicity of the molecules , isotopic exchange reactions between elemental halogens and the corresponding carbon tetrahalides would appear to offer particularly fruitful possibilities for obtaining unambiguous basic kinetic data . It would appear that it should be possible to determine unique mechanisms for the thermal and photochemical reactions in both the liquid and gas phases and to determine values for activation energies of some of the intermediate reactions of atoms and free radicals , as well as information on the heat of dissociation of the carbon-halogen bond . The reaction of chlorine with carbon tetrachloride seemed particularly suited for such studies . It should be possible to prepare very pure chlorine by oxidation of inorganic chlorides on a vacuum system followed by multiple distillation of the liquid . It should be possible to free carbon tetrachloride of any interfering substances by the usual purification methods followed by prechlorination prior to addition of radioactive chlorine . Furthermore , the exchange would not be expected to be sensitive to trace amounts of impurities because it would not be apt to be a chain reaction since the activation energy for abstraction of chlorine by a chlorine atom would be expected to be too high ; also it would be expected that **f would compete very effectively with any impurities as a scavenger for **f radicals . Contrary to these expectations we have found it impossible to obtain the degree of reproducibility one would wish , even with extensive efforts to prepare especially pure reagents . We are reporting these investigations here briefly because of their relevancy to problems of the study of apparently simple exchange reactions of chlorine and because the results furnish some information on the activation energy for abstraction of chlorine atoms from carbon tetrachloride . EXPERIMENTAL REAGENTS . - Matheson highest purity tank chlorine was passed through a tube of resublimed **f into an evacuated Pyrex system where it was condensed with liquid air . It was then distilled at least three times from a trap at -78° to a liquid air trap with only a small middle fraction being retained in each distillation . The purified product was stored at -78° in a tube equipped with a break seal . Of several methods employed for tagging chlorine with radiochlorine , the exchange of inactive chlorine with tagged aluminum chloride at room temperature was found to be the most satisfactory . To prepare the latter , silver chloride was precipitated from a solution containing **f obtained from the Oak Ridge National Laboratory . The silver chloride was fused under vacuum in the presence of aluminum chips with the resultant product of **f which was sublimed into a flask on the vacuum line . Previously purified chlorine was subsequently admitted and the exchange was allowed to take place . The radiochlorine was stored at -78° in a tube equipped with a break seal . Liter quantities of Mallinckrodt , low sulfur , reagent grade carbon tetrachloride were saturated with **f and **f and illuminated for about 50 hours with a 1000 watt tungsten lamp at a distance of a few inches . The mixture was then extracted with alkali and with water following which the carbon tetrachloride was distilled on a Vigreux column , a 25% center cut being retained which was then degassed under vacuum in the presence of **f . Purified inactive chlorine was then added from one of the tubes described above and the mixture frozen out and sealed off in a flask equipped with a break seal . This chlorine-carbon tetrachloride solution was illuminated for a day following which the flask was resealed onto a vacuum system and the excess chlorine distilled off . The required amount of carbon tetrachloride was distilled into a series of reaction cells on a manifold on a vacuum line . The desired amounts of inactive chlorine and radioactive chlorine were likewise condensed in these cells on the vacuum line following which they were frozen down and the manifold as a whole was sealed off . The contents of the manifold for liquid phase experiments were then mixed by shaking , redistributed to the reaction tubes , frozen down , and each tube was then sealed off . The reactants for the gas phase experiments were first frozen out in a side-arm attached to the manifold and then allowed to distil slowly into the manifold of pre-cooled reaction cells before sealing off . This method in general solved the problem of obtaining fairly equal concentrations of reactants in each of the six cells from a set . REACTION CONDITIONS AND ANALYSIS . - The samples for liquid phase thermal reaction studies were prepared in Pyrex capillary tubing 2.5 mm. i.d . and about 15 cm. long . In a few experiments the tubes were made from standard 6 mm. i.d . Pyrex tubing of 1 mm. wall thickness . Both types of tube withstood the pressure of approximately 20 atmospheres exerted by the carbon tetrachloride at 220° . The photochemical reaction cells consisted of 10 mm. i.d . Pyrex tubing , 5.5 cm. long , diffraction effects being minimized by the fact that the light passed through only liquid-glass interfaces and not gas-glass interfaces . These cells were used rather than square Pyrex tubing because of the tendency of the latter to shatter when thawing frozen carbon tetrachloride . The round cells were reproducibly positioned in the light beam which entered the thermostated mineral oil-bath through a window . Two types of light source were used , a thousand watt projection lamp and an AH6 high pressure mercury arc . The light was filtered by the soft glass window of the thermostat thus ensuring that only light absorbed by the chlorine and not by the carbon tetrachloride could enter the reaction cell . Relative incident light intensities were measured with a thermopile potentiometer system . Changes of intensity on the cell were achieved by use of a wire screen and by varying the distance of the light source from the cell . Following reaction the cells were scratched with a file and opened under a 20% aqueous sodium iodide solution . Carrier **f was added and the aqueous and organic phases were separated ( cells containing gaseous reactants were immersed in liquid air before opening under sodium iodide ) . After titration of the liberated **f with **f , aliquots of the aqueous and of the organic phase were counted in a solution-type Geiger tube . In the liquid phase runs the amount of carbon tetrachloride in each reaction tube was determined by weighing the tube before opening and weighing the fragments after emptying . The fraction of exchange was determined as the ratio of the counts/minute observed in the carbon tetrachloride to the counts/minute calculated for the carbon tetrachloride fractions for equilibrium distribution of the activity between the chlorine and carbon tetrachloride , empirically determined correction being made for the difference in counting efficiency of **f in **f and **f . RESULTS THE THERMAL REACTION . - In studying the liquid phase thermal reaction , some 70 tubes from 12 different manifold fillings were prepared and analyzed . Experiments were done at 180 , 200 , 210 , 220° . Following observation of the fact that the reaction rates of supposedly identical reaction mixtures prepared on the same filling manifold and exposed under identical conditions often differed by several hundred per cent. , a systematic series of experiments was undertaken to see whether the difficulty could be ascribed to the method of preparing the chlorine , to the effects of oxygen or moisture or to the effect of surface to volume ratio in the reaction tubes . In addition to the method described in the section above , chlorine and radiochlorine were prepared by the electrolysis of a **f eutectic on the vacuum line , and by exchange of **f with molten **f . Calcium hydride was substituted for **f as a drying agent for carbon tetrachloride . No correlation between these variables and the irreproducibility of the results was found . The reaction rates observed at 200° ranged from **f of the chlorine exchanged per hour to 0.7 exchanged per hour . In most cases the chlorine concentration was about **f . Sets of reaction tubes containing 0.2 of an atmosphere of added oxygen in one case and added moisture in another , both gave reaction rates in the range of 0.1 to 0.4 of the chlorine exchanged per hour . No detectable reaction was found at room temperature for reaction mixtures allowed to stand up to 5 hours . THE LIQUID PHASE PHOTOCHEMICAL REACTION . - The liquid phase photochemical exchange between chlorine and carbon tetrachloride was more reproducible than the thermal exchange , although still erratic . The improvement was most noticeable in the greater consistency among reaction cells prepared as a group on the same manifold . Rather large differences were still found between reaction cells from different manifold fillings . Some 80 reaction tubes from 13 manifold fillings were illuminated in the temperature range from 40 to 85° in a further endeavor to determine the cause of the irreproducibility and to obtain information on the activation energy and the effect of light intensity . In all cases there was readily measurable exchange after as little as one hour of illumination . By comparing reaction cells sealed from the same manifold temperature dependency corresponding to activation energies ranging from 11 to 18 **f was observed while dependence on the first power of the light intensity seemed to be indicated in most cases . It was possible to make estimates of the quantum yield by observing the extent of reduction of a uranyl oxalate actinometer solution illuminated for a known time in a typical reaction cell and making appropriate conversions based on the differences in the absorption spectra of uranyl oxalate and of chlorine , and considering the spectral distribution of the light source . These estimates indicated that the quantum yield for the exchange of chlorine with liquid carbon tetrachloride at 65° is of the order of magnitude of unity . When typical reaction cells to which 0.3 of an atmosphere of oxygen had been added were illuminated , chlorine and phosgene were produced . Exchange was also observed in these cells , which had chlorine present at **f . THE PHOTOCHEMICAL EXCHANGE IN THE GAS PHASE . - Although there was some variation in results which must be attributed either to trace impurities or to variation in wall effects , the photochemical exchange in the gas phase was sufficiently reproducible so that it seemed meaningful to compare the reaction rates in different series of reaction tubes for the purpose of obtaining information on the effect of chlorine concentration and of carbon tetrachloride concentration on the reaction rate . Data on such comparisons together with data on the effect of light intensity are given in Table /1 . , In series /1 , the relative light intensity was varied by varying the distance of the lamp from the reaction cell over the range from 14.7 to 29.2 cm . The last column shows the rate of exchange that would have been oserved at a relative intensity of 4 ( 14.7 cm. distance ) calculated on the assumptions that the incident light intensity is inversely proportional to the square of the distance of the lamp from the cell and that the rate is directly proportional to the incident light intensity . Direct proportionality of the rate to the incident intensity has also been assumed in obtaining the value in the last column for the fourth sample of series /2 , where the light intensity was reduced by use of a screen . The Poynting-Robertson effect ( Robertson , 1937 ; Wyatt and Whipple , 1950 ) , which is a retardation of the orbital motion of particles by the relativistic aberration of the repulsive force of the impinging solar radiation , causes the dust to spiral into the sun in times much shorter than the age of the Earth . The radial velocity varies inversely as the particle size — a 1000-m-diameter particle near the orbit of Mars would reach the sun in about 60 million years . Whipple ( 1955 ) extends the effects to include the TOOLONG pressure , which increases both the minimum particle size and the drag . Further , the corpuscular radiation , i.e. , the solar-wind protons , must sputter away the surface atoms of the dust and cause a slow diminution in size , with a resultant increase in both the Poynting-Robertson effect and the ratio of the repulsive force to the gravitational force . The Poynting-Robertson effect causes the semi-major axis of orbits to diminish more rapidly than the semi-minor axis , with a consequent tendency toward circular orbits as the particles move toward the sun . Also , planetary gravitational attraction increases the dust concentration near the plane of the ecliptic as the sun is approached . At one astronomical unit from the sun ( the Earth 's distance ) the dust orbits are probably nearly circular . If such is the case , the particles within a distance of about **f km of the Earth will have , relative to the Earth , a kinetic energy less than their potential energy and they will be captured into orbits about the Earth . De Jager ( 1955 ) has calculated the times required for these particles to reach the atmosphere under the influence of the Poynting-Robertson effect , which in this case causes the orbits to become more and more eccentric without changing the semi-major axis . This effect can give rise to a blanket of micrometeorites around the Earth . Since there is a continual loss of micrometeoritic material in space because of the radiation effects , there must be a continual replenishment : otherwise , micrometeorites would have disappeared from interplanetary space . There are several possible sources . According to Whipple ( 1955 ) , cometary debris is sufficient to replenish the material spiraling into the sun , maintaining a fairly steady state . Asteroidal collisions are also thought to contribute material . It is also possible that some of the dust in the vicinity of the Earth originated from meteoritic impacts upon the moon . 5.3 DIRECT MEASUREMENTS OF MICROMETEORITE FLUX One can not make a very satisfactory guess about the micrometeorite flux in space . Even in the neighborhood of the Earth , where information has been obtained both directly and indirectly , the derived flux values vary by at least four orders of magnitude . This large discrepancy demonstrates the inadequacies of the experimental methods and the lack of understanding of the various phenomena involved . Beyond a few million kilometers from the Earth , but still in the region of the Earth 's orbit , a prediction of the flux of dust is even more unreliable . At greater distances from the sun , the situation is still less certain . There are several sources of evidence on the micrometeorite environment . Direct information has been obtained from rockets and satellites equipped with impact sensors . In addition , the size distribution obtained from visual and radar observations of meteors may be extrapolated to the micrometeorite domain . From the brightness of the F component of the solar corona and the brightness of the zodiacal light , an estimate of the particle sizes , concentrations , and spatial distribution can be derived for regions of space near the ecliptic plane . Another important source of evidence only recently receiving much attention is the analysis of atmospheric dust for a meteoritic component . The cores of deep-sea sediments and content of collectors in remote regions are valuable in this category . The data provide a measure of the total mass of cosmic material incident upon the Earth . The direct evidence on the micrometeorite environment near the Earth is obtained from piezoelectric sensors ( essentially microphones ) and from wire gages ; these instruments are installed on rockets , satellites , and space probes . Statistically , the most significant data have been collected from the sensors on 1958 Alpha ( Explorer /1 , ) , 1958 Delta 2 ( Sputnik /3 , ) , and 1959 Eta ( Vanguard /3 , ) . These vehicles , with large sensitive areas , have collected data for long enough times to give reliable impact rates for the periods of exposure . Many other vehicles with smaller sensitive-area exposure-time products contribute some information . The impact rate on 1958 Alpha for 153 events was **f for particles of mass greater than **f ( Dubin , 1960 ) ; this mass threshold was derived from the detector calibration and an assumed impact velocity of **f . The data show daily and diurnal variations . Ninety per cent of the 153 recorded impacts occurred between midnight and noon , and from day to day the variation of the rate was as much as an order of magnitude . One may conclude that most of the detected micrometeoritic material is concentrated in orbital streams which intersect the Earth 's orbit . There have been contradictory reports from 1958 Delta 2 , and the data quoted here are believed to be the more reliable . On May 15 , a very large increase occurred with **f of mass between **f and **f ; for the next two days , the impact rate was **f ; and for the next nine days , the impact rate was less than **f ( Nazarova , 1960 ) . The data for the first day indicate a meteor stream with a very high concentration of particles and may have led to the high estimates of micrometeorite flux . Preliminary data from 1959 Eta give an average impact rate of **f for masses larger than **f for about 1000 events in a 22-day period ( LaGow and Alexander , 1960 ) . The day-to-day rate varied by less than a factor of 4.5 . The data have not yet been analyzed for diurnal variations . Note that the mass threshold is four times that of 1958 Alpha and that the flux is one fifth as large . If one assumes that the average flux did not change between measurements , a mass-distribution curve is obtained which relates the flux of particles larger than a given radius to the inverse 7/2 power of the radius . Space probes have yielded little information . Pioneer /1 , recorded a decrease in flux with distance from the Earth on the basis of 11 counts in 9 hours . With detectors sensitive to three mass intervals and based on a few counts , the second and third Russian space probes indicate that the flux of the smallest particles detected is less than that of larger ones . Being based on so few events , these results are of dubious validity . The calibration of piezoelectric sensors in terms of the particle parameters is very uncertain . Many workers believe that the response is proportional to the incident momentum of the particles , a relation deduced from laboratory results linearly extrapolated to meteoritic velocities . However , one must expect that vaporization and ejection of material by hypervelocity impacts would cause a deviation from a linear relationship . In the United States , most of the sensors are calibrated by dropping small spheres on their sensitive surfaces . The Russian experimenters claim that only a small fraction of the impulse from the sensors is caused by the incident momentum with the remainder being momentum of ejected material from the sensor . This " ejection " momentum is linearly related to the particle energy . They quote about the same mass threshold as that of the U.S. apparatus , but a momentum threshold about 40 times greater . There is a difference in the experimental arrangement , in that the U.S. microphones are attached directly to the vehicle skin while the Russian instruments are isolated from the skin . The threshold mass is derived from the momentum threshold with the assumption of a mean impact velocity of **f in the U.S. work and **f in the U.S.S.R. work . The threshold mass of about **f corresponds to a 10-m-diameter sphere of density **f . However , the conversion from mass to size is unreliable , since many photographic meteors give evidence of a fluffy , loosely bound meteorite structure with densities as low as **f . To what extent such low density applies to micrometeorites is unknown . The velocity value used is also open to some question ; if a substantial fraction of the dust is orbiting about the Earth , only about one third the above-mentioned average velocity should be used in deriving the mass . Zodiacal light and the gegenschein give some evidence for such a dust blanket , a phenomenon also to be expected if the dust before capture is in circular orbits about the sun , as indicated by the trend of the smaller visible meteors . The diurnal variation in the observed flux may be partly due to the dependence of the detector sensitivity on the incident velocity . The flux of micrometeorites in the neighborhood of the Earth can be estimated by extrapolation from radar and visual meteor data . A summary of meteorite data , prepared by Whipple ( 1958 ) on the basis of photographic , visual , and radar evidence , is given in Table 5-1 . From an estimated mass of 25 g for a zero-magnitude meteorite , the other masses are derived with the assumption of a mass decrease by a factor of 2.512 for each unit increase in magnitude . The radius is calculated from the mass by assuming spheres of density **f except for the smallest particles , which must have a higher mass density to remain in the solar system in the presence of solar-radiation pressure . The flux values are for all particles with masses greater than the given mass and are based on an estimate of the numbers of visual meteors . It is assumed that the flux values increase by a factor of 2.512 per magnitude , in accordance with the opinion that the total mass flux in each unit range in magnitude is constant . The values agree with the data from 1958 Alpha and 1959 Eta . The figures in the next-to-last column are derived with the assumption of 50 per cent shielding by the Earth ; hence , these figures apply immediately above the Earth 's atmosphere . The unshielded flux is given in the last column ; these figures constitute the best estimate for the flux in interplanetary space near the Earth . Of course , if there is a dust blanket around the Earth , the fluxes in interplanetary space should be less than the figures given here . Note that the mass scale is one to two orders of magnitude greater than some previously used ; for example , Jacchia ( 1948 ) derived a scale of 0.15 g for a **f , zero-magnitude meteorite . The older scales were based on theoretical estimates of the conversion efficiency of kinetic energy into light . The mass scale used in Table 5-1 was derived on the assumption that the motion of the glowing trail is related to the momentum transfer to the trail by the meteorite , permitting the calculation of the mass if the velocity is known ( Cook and Whipple , 1958 ) . A concentration distribution has been derived from radar observations sensitive to the fifteenth magnitude ( Manning and Eshleman , 1959 ) . Extrapolation of this relationship through the thirtieth magnitude covers the range of micrometeorites . The approximate equation is **f , where n is the number of **f with electron line-density greater than or equal to **f , and q is proportional to the mass of the meteorite . Therefore , n is inversely proportional to the radius cubed and in fair agreement with the inverse 7/2 power derived from 1958 Alpha and 1959 Eta data . At the fifteenth magnitude , **f , and at the twenty-fifth magnitude , **f . These extrapolated fluxes are about an order of magnitude less than the values from the satellite data and the figures in Whipple 's table . The extrapolation may be in error for several reasons . The observational data determining the concentration distribution have a range of error which is magnified in the extension into the micrometeorite region . The solar-electromagnetic — and corpuscular-radiation pressure and the associated Poynting-Robertson effect increase in effectiveness as the particle size decreases and modify the distribution and limit sizes to larger than a few microns . Also , it has been suggested that the source of all or part of the dust may not be the same as that for visual or radar meteorites ( Best , 1960 ) , and the same distribution would not be expected . 5.4 . INDIRECT INDICATIONS OF MICROMETEORITE FLUX A measure of the total mass accretion of meteoritic material by the Earth is obtained from analyses of deep-sea sediments and dust collected in remote regions ( Pettersson , 1960 ) . Most meteoritic material , by the time it reaches the Earth 's surface , has been reduced to dust or to spherules of ablated material in its passage through the atmosphere . For all meteorites , the average nickel content is about 2.5 per cent . This is much higher than the nickel content of terrestrial dusts and sediments and provides a basis for the determination of the meteoritic mass influx . Present data indicate an accretion of about **f tons per year over the entire globe , or about **f . BIOLOGICAL WARFARE Biological warfare is the intentional use of living microorganisms or their toxic products for the purpose of destroying or reducing the military effectiveness of man . It is the exploitation of the inherent potential of infectious disease agents by scientific research and development , resulting in the production of BW weapons systems . Man may also be injured secondarily by damage to his food crops or domestic animals . Biological warfare is considered to be primarily a strategic weapon . The major reason for this is that it has no quick-kill effect . The incubation period of infectious disease , plus a variable period of illness even before a lethal effect , render this weapon unsuitable for hand-to-hand encounter . A man can be an effective fighting machine throughout the incubation period of most infectious diseases . Thus , an enemy would probably use this weapon for attack on static population centers such as large cities . An important operational procedure in BW for an enemy would be to create an areosol or cloud of agent over the target area . This concept has stimulated much basic research concerning the behavior of particulate biological materials , the pathogenesis of respiratory infections , the medical management of such diseases and defense against their occurrence . The biological and physical properties of infectious particles have been studied intensively during the past fifteen years . Much new equipment and many unique techniques have been developed for the quantitative exposure of experimental animals to aerosols of infectious agents contained in particles of specified dimensional characteristics . Much information has been gathered relative to quantitative sampling and assesment techniques . Much of the older experimental work on respiratory infections was accomplished by very artificial procedures . The intranasal instillation of a fluid suspension of infectious agent in an anesthetized animal is far different from exposure , through natural respiration , to aerosolized organisms . The importance of particle size in such aerosols has been thoroughly demonstrated . The natural anatomical and physiological defensive features of the upper respiratory tract , such as the turbinates of the nose and the cilia of the trachea and larger bronchi , are capable of impinging out the larger particles to which we are ordinarily exposed in our daily existence . Very small particles , however , in a size range of 1 to 4 microns in diameter are capable of passing these impinging barriers and entering the alveolar bed of the lungs . This area is highly susceptible to infection . The entrance and retention of infectious particles in the alveoli amounts almost to an intratissue inoculation . The relationship between particle size and infectious dose is illustrated in Table 1 . In considering BW defense , it must be recognized that a number of critical meterological parameters must be met for an aerosol to exhibit optimum effect . For example , bright sunlight is rapidly destructive for living microorganisms suspended in air . There are optimal humidity requirements for various agents when airborne . Neutral or inversion meteorological conditions are necessary for a cloud to travel along the surface . It will rise during lapse conditions . There are , of course , certain times during the 24-hour daily cycle when most of these conditions will be met . Certain other properties of small particles , in addition to those already mentioned in connection with penetration of the respiratory tract , are noteworthy in defense considerations . The smaller the particle the further it will travel downwind before settling out . An aerosol of such small particles . moreover , diffuses through structures in much the same manner as a gas . There may be a number of secondary effects resulting from diffusion through buildings such as widespread contamination of kitchens , restaurants , food stores , hospitals , etc . Depending on the organism , there may be multiplication in some food or beverage products , i.e. , in milk for example . The secondary consequences from this could be very serious and must be taken into consideration in planning for defense . Something of the behavior of clouds of small particles can be illustrated by the following field trials : In the first trial an inert substance was disseminated from a boat travelling some ten miles off shore under appropriately selected meteorological conditions . Zinc cadmium sulfide in particles of 2 microns in size were disseminated . This material fluoresces under ultraviolet light which facilitates its sampling and assessment . Four hundred and fifty pounds was disseminated while the ship was traveling a distance of 156 miles . Figure 1 describes the results obtained in this trial . The particles traveled a maximum detected distance of some 450 miles . From these dosage isopleths it can be seen that an area of over 34,000 square miles was covered . These dosages could have been increased by increasing the source strength which was small in this case . The behavior of a biological aerosol , on a much smaller scale , is illustrated by a specific field trial conducted with a non-pathogenic organism . An aqueous suspension of the spores of B. subtilis , var. niger , generally known as Bacillus globigii , was aerosolized using commercially available nozzles . A satisfactory cloud was produced even though these nozzles were only about 5 per cent efficient in producing an initial cloud in the size range of 1 to 5 microns . In this test , 130 gallons of a suspension , having a count of **f organisms per ml , or a total of approximately **f spores , was aerosolized . The spraying operation was conducted from the rear deck of a small Naval vessel , cruising two miles off-shore and vertical to an on-sure breeze . Spraying continued along a two-mile course . This operation was started at 5:00 p.m. and lasted for 29 minutes . There was a slight lapse condition , a moderate fog , and 100 per cent relative humidity . A network of sampling stations had been set up on shore . These were located at the homes of Government employees , in Government Offices , buildings and reservations within the trial area . A rough attempt was made to characterize the vertical profile of the cloud by taking samples from outside the windows on the first , ninth , and fifteenth floors of a Government office building . All samplers were operated for a period of two hours except one , which was operated for four hours . In this instance , there was a dosage of 562 during the first two hours and a total dosage of 1980 for the four-hour period , a four-fold increase . This suggests that the sampling period , particularly at the more distant locations , should have been increased . As can be seen from Figure 2 , an extensive area was covered by this aerosol . The maximum distance sampled was 23 miles from the source . As can be seen from these dosage isopleths , approximately 100 square miles was covered within the area sampled . It is quite likely that an even greater area was covered , particularly downwind . The dosages in the three levels of the vertical profile were : **f This was not , of course , enough sampling to give a satisfactory description of the vertical diffusion of the aerosol . A number of unique medical problems might be created when man is exposed to an infectious agent through the respiratory route rather than by the natural portal of entry . Some agents have been shown to be much more toxic or infectious to experimental animals when exposed to aerosols of optimum particle size than by the natural portal . Botulinal toxin , for example , is several thousand-fold more toxic by this route than when given per os . In some instances a different clinical disease picture may result from this route of exposure , making diagnosis difficult . In tularemia produced by aerosol exposure , one would not expect to find the classical ulcer of " rabbit fever " on a finger . An enemy would obviously choose an agent that is believed to be highly infectious . Agents that are known to cause frequent infections among laboratory workers such as those causing Q fever , tularemia , brucellosis , glanders , coccidioidomycosis , etc. , belong in this category . An agent would likely be selected which would possess sufficient viability and virulence stability to meet realistic minimal logistic requirements . It is , obviously , a proper goal of research to improve on this property . In this connection it should be capable of being disseminated without excessive destruction . Moreover , it should not be so fastidious in its growth requirements as to make production on a militarily significant scale improbable . An aggressor would use an agent against which there was a minimal naturally acquired or artificially induced immunity in a target population . A solid immunity is the one effective circumstance whereby attack by a specific agent can be neutralized . It must be remembered , however , that there are many agents for which there is no solid immunity and a partial or low-grade immunity may be broken by an appropriate dose of agent . There is a broad spectrum of organisms from which selection for a specified military purpose might be made . An enemy might choose an acutely debilitating microorganism , a chronic disease producer or one causing a high rate of lethality . It is possible that certain mutational forms may be produced such as antibiotic resistant strains . Mutants may also be developed with changes in biochemical properties that are of importance in identification . All of these considerations are of critical importance in considering defense and medical management . Biological agents are , of course , highly host-specific . They do not destroy physical structures as is true of high explosives . This may be of overriding importance in considering military objectives . The question of epidemic disease merits some discussion . Only a limited effort has been devoted to this problem . Some of those who question the value of BW have assumed that the only potential would be in the establishment of epidemics . They then point out that with our present lack of knowledge of all the factors concerned in the rise and fall of epidemics , it is unlikely that a planned episode could be initiated . They argue further ( and somewhat contradictorily ) that our knowledge and resources in preventive medicine would make it possible to control such an outbreak of disease . this is why this approach to BW defense has not been given major attention . Our major problem is what an enemy might accomplish in an initial attack on a target . This , of course , does not eliminate from consideration for this purpose agents that are associated naturally with epidemic disease . A hypothetical example will illustrate this point . Let us assume that it would be possible for an enemy to create an aerosol of the causative agent of epidemic typhus ( Rickettsia prowazwki ) over City A and that a large number of cases of typhus fever resulted therefrom . No epidemic was initiated nor was one expected because the population in City A was not lousy . Lousiness is a prerequisite for epidemic typhus . In this case , then , the military objective was accomplished with an epidemic agent solely through the results secured in the initial attack . This was done with full knowledge that there would be no epidemic . On the other hand , a similar attack might have been made on City B whose population was known to be lousy . One might expect some spread of the disease in this case resulting in increased effectiveness of the attack . The major defensive problems are concerned with the possibility of overt military delivery of biological agents from appropriate disseminating devices . It should be no more difficult to deliver such devices than other weapons . The same delivery vehicles — whether they be airplanes , submarines or guided missiles — should be usable . If it is possible for an enemy to put an atomic bomb on a city , it should be equally possible to put a cloud of biological agent over that city . Biological agents are , moreover , suitable for delivery through enemy sabotage which imposes many problems in defense . A few obvious target areas of great importance might be mentioned . The air conditioning and ventilating systems of large buildings are subject to attack . America is rapidly becoming a nation that uses processed , precooked and even predigested foods . This is an enormous industry that is subject to sabotage . One must include the preparation of soft drinks and the processing of milk and milk products . Huge industries are involved also in the production of biological products , drugs and cosmetics which are liable to this type of attack . A variety of techniques have been directed toward the isolation and study of blood group antibodies . These include low-temperature ethanol ( Cohn ) fractionation , electrophoresis , ultracentrifugation and column chromatography on ion exchange celluloses . Modifications of the last technique have been applied by several groups of investigators . Abelson and Rawson , using a stepwise elution scheme , fractionated whole sera containing ABO and Rh antibodies on diethylaminoethyl DEAE cellulose and carboxymethyl cellulose . Speer and coworkers , in a similar study of blood group antibodies of whole sera , used a series of gradients for elution from DEAE-cellulose . Fahey and Morrison used a single , continuous gradient at constant pH for the fractionation of anti-A and anti-B agglutinins from preisolated g-globulin samples . In the present work whole sera have been fractionated by chromatography on DEAE-cellulose using single gradients similar to those described by Sober and Peterson , and certain chemical and serological properties of the fractions containing antibodies of the ABO and Rh systems have been described . MATERIALS AND METHODS SAMPLES . Serum samples were obtained from normal group A , group B and group O donors . Three of the anti-Rh sera used were taken from recently sensitized individuals . One contained complete antibody and had a titer of 1:512 in saline . The second contained incomplete antibody and showed titers of 1:256 in albumin and 1:2048 by the indirect Coombs test . The third , containing the mixed type of complete and incomplete antibodies , had titers of 1:256 in saline , 1:512 in albumin and 1:1024 by the indirect Coombs test . In addition one serum was obtained from a donor ( R. E. ) who had been sensitized 6 years previously . This serum exhibited titers of 1:16 in albumin and 1:256 by the indirect Coombs test . These antibody titers were determined by reaction with homozygous **f red cells . SEROLOGICAL TECHNIQUE . Anti-A and anti-B activities were determined in fractions from the sera of group A , group B or group O donors by the following tube agglutination methods . One drop of each sample was added to one drop of a 2% suspension of group **f or group B red cells in a small **f test tube . In several instances group O cells were also used as controls . The red cells were used within 2 days after donation and were washed with large amounts of saline before use . The mixtures of sample plus cell suspension were allowed to stand at room temperature for 1 hr. the tubes were then centrifuged at 1000 rpm for 1 min and examined macroscopically for agglutination . For the albumin method , equal volumes of 30% bovine albumin , sample and 2% cells suspended in saline were allowed to stand at room temperature for 1 hr and then were centrifuged at 1000 rpm for 1 min . All samples were tested by both the saline and albumin methods . The activities of fractions of sera containing Rh antibodies were tested by the saline , albumin and indirect Coombs techniques . Homozygous and heterozygous **f cells , **f and homozygous and heterozygous **f cells were used to test each sample ; however , in the interest of clarity and conciseness only the results obtained with homozygous **f and homozygous **f cells will be presented here . The saline and albumin tests were performed as described for the ABO samples except that the mixture was incubated for 1 hr at 37°C before centrifugation . The saline tubes were saved and used for the indirect Coombs test in the following manner . The cells were washed three times with saline , anti-human serum was added , the cells were resuspended , and the mixture was centrifuged at 1000 rpm for 1 min and examined for agglutination . The anti-human sera used were prepared by injecting whole human serum into rabbits . Those antisera shown by immunoelectrophoresis to be of the " broad spectrum " type were selected for used in the present study . The red cells for the Rh antibody tests were used within 3 days after drawing except for the **f cells , which had been glycerolized and stored at -20°C for approximately 1 year . These cells were thawed at 37°C for 30 min and were deglycerolized by alternately centrifuging and mixing with descending concentrations of glycerol solutions ( 20 , 18 , 10 , 8 , 4 and 2% ) . The cells were then washed three times with saline and resuspended to 2% in saline . CHROMATOGRAPHY . Blood samples were allowed to clot at room temperature for 3 hr , centrifuged and the serum was removed . The serum was measured volumetrically and subsequently dialyzed in the cold for at least 24 hr against three to four changes , approximately 750 ml each , of " starting buffer " . This buffer , pH 8.6 , was 0.005 M in **f and 0.039 M in TOOLONG ( Tris ) . After dialysis the sample was centrifuged and the supernatant placed on a **f cm column of EEAE-cellulose equilibrated with starting buffer . The DEAE-cellulose , containing 0.78 mEq of N/g , was prepared in our laboratory by the method of Peterson and Sober ( 7 ) from powdered cellulose , 100-230 mesh . The small amount of insoluble material which precipitated during dialysis was suspended in approximately 5 ml of starting buffer , centrifuged , resuspended in 2.5 ml of isotonic saline and tested for antibody activity . The chromatography was done at 6°C using gradient elution , essentially according to Sober and Peterson . The deep concave gradient employed ( fig. 2 ) was obtained with a nine-chambered gradient elution device ( " Varigrad " , reference ( 8 ) ) and has been described elsewhere . the other , a shallow concave gradient ( Fig. 1 ) , was produced with a so-called " cone-sphere " apparatus , the " cone " being a 2-liter Erlenmeyer flask and the " sphere , " a 2-liter round-bottom flask . Each initially contained 1700 ml of buffer ; in the sphere was starting buffer and in the cone was final buffer , 0.50 M in both **f and Tris , pH 4.1 . A flow rate of 72 **f was used and 12 ml fractions were collected . Approximately 165 fractions were obtained from each column . These were read at 280 mm in a Beckman model DU spectrophotometer and tested for antibody activity as described above . PAPER ELECTROPHORESIS . For protein identification , fractions from the column were concentrated by pervaporation against a stream of air at 5°C or by negative pressure dialysis in an apparatus which permitted simultaneous concentration of the protein and dialysis against isotonic saline . During the latter procedure the temperature was maintained at 2°C by surrounding the apparatus with ice . Because negative pressure dialysis gave better recovery of proteins , permitted detection of proteins concentrated from very dilute solutions and was a gentler procedure , it was used in all but the earliest experiments . Paper electrophoresis was carried out on the concentrated samples in a Spinco model R cell using barbital buffer , pH 8.6 , ionic strength 0.075 , at room temperature on Whatman 3MM filter paper . Five milliamperes/cell were applied for 18 hr , after which the strips were stained with bromphenol blue and densitometry was carried out using a Spinco Analytrol . When paper electrophoresis was to be used for preparation , eight strips of a whole serum sample or a chromatographic fraction concentrated by negative pressure dialysis were run/chamber under the conditions described above . At the end of the run , the strips in the third and sixth positions in each chamber were dried , stained for 1 hr , washed and dried , while the other strips were maintained in a horizontal position at 1°C . The unstained strips were then marked , using the stained ones as a guide , and cut transversely so as to separate the various protein bands . The strip sections containing a given protein were pooled , eluted with 0.5 ml of isotonic saline , and the eluates were tested for antibody activity . ULTRACENTRIFUGATION . Fractions from the column which were to be subjected to analytical ultracentrifugation were concentrated by negative pressure dialysis and dialyzed for 16 hr in the cold against at least 500 volumes of phosphate-buffered saline , pH 7.2 , ionic strength 0.154 . They were then centrifuged at 59,780 rpm for 35 to 80 min at 20°C in a Spinco model E ultracentrifuge at a protein concentration of 1.00 to 1.25% . Sedimentation coefficients were computed as **f values and relative amounts of the various components were calculated from the Schlieren patterns . For preparative ultracentrifugation , fractions from the column were concentrated by negative pressure dialysis to volumes of 1 ml or less , transferred to cellulose tubes and diluted to 12 ml with isotonic saline . Ultracentrifugation was then carried out in a Spinco model L ultracentrifuge at 40,000 rpm for 125 to 150 min , refrigeration being used throughout the run . Successive 1-ml fractions were then drawn off with a hypodermic syringe , starting at the top of the tube , and tested for agglutinin activity . Other methods will be described below . EXPERIMENTAL AND RESULTS The insoluble material which precipitated during dialysis against starting buffer always showed intense agglutinin activity , regardless of the blood group of the donor . With either of the gradients described , chromatography on DEAE-cellulose separated agglutinins of the ABO series into at least three regions ( Figs. 1 and 2 ) : one of extremely low anionic binding capacity , one of low anionic binding capacity and one of high anionic binding capacity . These have been labeled Regions 1 , 2 , and 4 , respectively , in Fig. 1 . When the early part of the gradient was flattened , either by using the gradient shown in Fig. 2 or by allowing the " cone-sphere " gradient to become established more slowly , Region 2 activity could sometimes be separated into two areas ( donors P. J. and R. S. , Fig. 1 and E. M. , Fig. 2 ) . The latter procedure gave rise to a small active protein peak ( Region 1a ) between Regions 1 and 2 . In 2 of 15 experiments on whole serum a region of agglutinin activity with intermediate anionic binding capacity was detected ( Region 3 , Fig. 1 ) . Moreover , after concentration using negative pressure dialysis , agglutinin activity could sometimes be detected in the region designated 2a ( donors P. J. , D. A. , and J. F. , Fig. 1 ) . Not all these regions exhibited equal agglutinating activity , as evidenced by titer and the extent of the active areas . In all cases , most of the activity lay in the region of high anionic binding capacity . This was particularly noticeable in group A and group B sera , in which cases activity in Regions 1 and 2 was usually not detectable without prior concentration and occasionally could not be detected at all . There appeared to be no difference in the distribution of anti-A and anti-B activity in group O serum , though in two group O donors ( J. F. and E. M. ) only one type of agglutinin was found in the regions of low anionic binding capacity ( Figs. 1 and 2 ) . Several samples of citrated plasma were fractionated in our laboratory by Method 6 of Cohn et al . These fractions were tested for ABO agglutinin activity , using fractions from group AB plasma as a control . As expected , most of the activity was found in Fraction **f , with slight activity seen in Fraction /4 , -1 . A sample of Fraction **f from group O plasma was dissolved in starting buffer , dialyzed against this buffer and subjected to chromatography using the gradient shown in Fig. 2 . Once again , both anti-A and anti-B activities were found in the insoluble material precipitated during dialysis . Similarly , both types of antibodies were found in three regions of the chromatographic eluate , having extremely low , low , and high anionic binding capacity , respectively ( Fig. 3 ) . Chromatography of whole sera revealed that the areas of Rh antibody activity were generally continuous and wide . The incomplete antibody activity appeared in the early part of the chromatogram ; the complete , in the latter part . The serum containing the mixed type of complete and incomplete antibodies showed activity in both regions ( Fig. 1 ) . In all cases the activity against **f cells was spread over a wider area than that with **f cells , regardless of the type of test ( saline , albumin , indirect Coombs ) used for comparison . The insoluble material resulting from dialysis against starting buffer always showed strong activity . In fact agglutination of **f cells in saline could be produced by the insoluble material from sera containing " only " incomplete antibody activity . This was later known to be the result of concentrating the minute amount of complete antibody found in these sera ; when the insoluble fraction was suspended in a volume of saline equal to that of the original serum sample , no complete antibody activity could be detected . Apart from the honeybee , practically all bees and bumblebees hibernate in a state of torpor . Occasionally , you may come across one or two bumblebees in the cold season , when you are turning over sods in your garden , but you have to be a really keen observer to see them at all . They keep their wings and feet pressed tightly against their bodies , and in spite of their often colorful attire you may very well mistake them for lumps of dirt . I must add at once that these animals are what we call " queens " , young females that have mated in the previous summer or autumn . It is on them alone that the future of their race depends , for all their relatives ( mothers , husbands , brothers , and unmated sisters ) have perished with the arrival of the cold weather . Even some of the queens will die before the winter is over , falling prey to enemies or disease . The survivors emerge on some nice , sunny day in March or April , when the temperature is close to 50° F and there is not too much wind . Now the thing for us to do is to find ourselves a couple of those wonderful flowering currants such as the red Ribes sanguineum of our Pacific Northwest , or otherwise a good sloe tree , or perhaps some nice pussy willow in bloom , preferably one with male or staminate catkins . The blooms of Ribes and of the willow and sloe are the places where large numbers of our early insects will assemble : honeybees , bumblebees , and other wild bees , and also various kinds of flies . It is a happy , buzzing crowd . Each male willow catkin is composed of a large number of small flowers . It is not difficult to see that the stamens of the catkin are always arranged in pairs , and that each individual flower is nothing but one such pair standing on a green , black-tipped little scale . By scrutinizing the flowers , one can also notice that the scale bears one or two tiny warts . Those are the nectaries or honey glands ( Fig. 26 , page 74 ) . The staminate willow catkins , then , provide their visitors with both nectar and pollen ; a marvelous arrangement , for it provides exactly what the bee queens need to make their beebread , a combination of honey and pollen with which the young of all species are fed . The only exception to this is certain bees that have become parasites . I will deal with these later on . Quite often , honeybees form a majority on the willow catkins . As we have already seen in the first chapter , bumblebees are bigger , hairier , and much more colorful than honeybees , exhibiting various combinations of black , yellow , white and orange . Let us not try to key them out at this stage of the game , and let us just call them Bombus ; there must be several dozen species in the United States alone . If you really insist on knowing their names , an excellent book on the North American species is Bumblebees and Their Ways by O. E. Plath . If we manage to keep track of a Bombus queen after she has left her feeding place , we may discover the snug little hideout which she has fixed up for herself when she woke up from her winter sleep . As befits a queen , a bumblebee female is rather choosy and may spend considerable time searching for a suitable nesting place . Most species seem to prefer a ready-made hollow such as a deserted mouse nest , a bird house , or the hole made by a woodpecker ; some show a definite liking for making their nest in moss . Once she has made up her mind , the queen starts out by constructing , in her chosen abode , a small " floor " of dried grass or some woolly material . On this , she builds an " egg compartment " or " egg cell " which is filled with that famous pollen-and-nectar mixture called beebread . She also builds one or two waxen cups which she fills with honey . Then , a group of eggs is deposited in a cavity in the beebread loaf and the egg compartment is closed . The queen afterward keeps incubating and guarding her eggs like a mother hen , taking a sip from time to time from the rather liquid honey in her honey pots . When the larvae hatch , they feed on the beebread , although they also receive extra honey meals from their mother . She continues to add to the pollen supply as needed . The larvae , kept warm by the queen , are full grown in about ten days . Each now makes a tough , papery cocoon and pupates . After another two weeks , the first young emerge , four to eight small daughters that begin to play the role of worker bees , collecting pollen and nectar in the field and caring for the new young generation while the queen retires to a life of egg laying . The first worker bees do not mate or lay eggs ; males and mating females do not emerge until later in the season . The broods of workers that appear later tend to be bigger than the first ones , probably because they are better fed . By the middle of the summer , many of the larvae apparently receive such a good diet that it is " optimal " , and it is then that young queens begin to appear . Simultaneously , males or drones are produced , mostly from the unfertilized eggs of workers , although a few may be produced by the queen . The young queens and drones leave the nest and mate , and after a short period of freedom , the fertilized young queens will begin to dig in for the winter . It is an amazing fact that in some species this will happen while the summer is still in full swing , for instance , in August . The temperature then is still very high . At the old nest , the queen will in the early fall cease to lay the fertilized eggs that will produce females . As a result , the proportion of males ( which leave the nest ) increases , and eventually the old colony will die out completely . The nest itself , the structure that in some cases housed about 2,000 individuals when the season was at its peak , is now rapidly destroyed by the scavenging larvae of certain beetles and moths . Not always , though , does the development of a bumblebee colony take place in the smooth fashion we have just described . Some members of the bee family have become idlers , social parasites that live at the expense of their hardworking relatives . Bumblebees can thus suffer severely from the onslaughts of Psithyrus , the " cuckoo-bumblebee " as it is called in some European countries . Female individuals of Psithyrus look deceptively like the workers and queens of the bumblebees they victimize . The one sure way to tell victim and villain apart is to examine the hind legs which in the case of the idler , Psithyrus , lack the pollen baskets — naturally ! The female parasite spends much time in her efforts to find a nest of her host . When she succeeds , she usually manages to slip in unobtrusively , to deposit an egg on a completed loaf of beebread before the bumblebees seal the egg compartment . The hosts never seem to recognize that something is amiss , so that the compartment afterward is sealed normally . Thus , the larvae of the intruder can develop at the expense of the rightful inhabitants and the store of beebread . Later on , they and the mother Psithyrus are fed by the Bombus workers . Worse still , in a number of cases it has been claimed that the Psithyrus female kills off the Bombus queen . But let us return , after this gruesome interlude , to our willow catkins in the spring ; there are other wild bees that command our attention . It is almost certain that some of these , usually a trifle smaller than the honeybees , are andrenas or mining bees . There are about 200 different kinds of Andrena in Europe alone . One of my favorites is A. armata , a species very common in England , where it is sometimes referred to as the lawn bee . The females like to burrow in the short turf of well-kept lawns , where their little mounds of earth often appear by the hundreds . Almost equal in size to a honeybee . A. armata is much more beautiful in color , at least in the female of the species : a rich , velvety , rusty red . The males are much duller . After having mated , an Andrena female digs a hole straight down into the ground , forming a burrow about the size of a lead pencil . The bottom part of a burrow has a number of side tunnels or " cells " , each of which is provided with an egg plus a store of beebread . The development of the Andrena larvae is very rapid , so that by the end of spring they have already pupated and become adults . But they are still enclosed in their larval cells and remain there throughout the summer , fall , and winter . Their appearance , next spring , coincides in an almost uncanny way with the flowering of their host plants . In the Sacramento valley in California , for instance , it has been observed that there was not one day 's difference between the emergence of the andrenas and the opening of the willow catkins . This must be due to a completely identical response to the weather , in the plant and the animal . After the male and female andrenas have mated , the cycle is repeated . Although Andrena is gregarious , so that we may find hundreds and hundreds of burrows together , we must still call it a solitary bee . Its life history is much simpler than that of the truly colonial bumblebees and can serve as an example of the life cycle of many other species . After all , social life in the group of the bees is by no means general , although it certainly is a striking feature . On the basis of its life history , we like to think that Andrena is more primitive than the bumblebees . The way in which it transports its pollen is not so perfect , either . It lacks pollen baskets and possesses only a large number of long , branched hairs on its legs , on which the pollen grains will collect . Still Andrena will do a reasonably good job , so that an animal with a full pollen load looks like a gay little piece of yellow down floating in the wind . Closely related to the andrenas are the nomias or alkali bees . Nomia melanderi can be found in tremendous numbers in certain parts of the United States west of the Great Plains , for example , in Utah and central Washington . In the United States Department of Agriculture 's Yearbook of Agriculture , 1952 , which is devoted entirely to insects , George E. Bohart mentions a site in Utah which was estimated to contain 200,000 nesting females . Often the burrows are only an inch or two apart , and the bee cities cover several acres . The life history of the alkali bee is similar to that of Andrena , but the first activity of the adults does not take place until summer , and the individuals hibernate in the prepupal stage . In most places , there are two generations a year , a second brood of adults appearing late in the summer . I must plead guilty to a special sympathy for nomias . This may just be pride in my adopted State of Washington , but certainly I love to visit their mound cities near Yakima and Prosser in July or August , when the bees are in their most active period . The name " alkali bee " indicates that one has to look for them in rather inhospitable places . Sometimes , although by no means always , these are indeed alkaline . The thing is that these bees love a fine-grained soil that is moist ; yet the water in the ground should not be stagnant either . They dislike dense vegetation . Where does one find such conditions ? The best chance , of course , is offered by gently sloping terrain where the water remains close to the surface and where the air is dry , so that a high evaporation leaves salty deposits which permit only sparse plant growth . Many other ( probably nearly all ) snakes at maturity are already more than half their final length . Laurence M. Klauber put length at maturity at two thirds the ultimate length for some rattlesnakes , and Charles C. Carpenter 's data on Michigan garter and ribbon snakes ( Thamnophis ) show that the smallest gravid females are more than half as long as the biggest adults . Felix Kopstein states that " when the snake reaches its maturity it has already reached about its maximal length " , but goes on to cite the reticulate python as an exception , with maximum length approximately three times that at maturity . It is hard to understand how he concluded that most snakes do not grow appreciably after attaining maturity ; he was working with species of Java , so perhaps some tropical snakes are unusual in this respect . Certain individual giants recorded later did fail to show a reasonable difference after maturity , but it is impossible to know whether this is due to captive conditions . Additional records of slow growth have been omitted . It is possible to make a few generalizations about the six giants themselves . There seems to be a rough correlation between the initial and ultimate lengths , starting with the smallest ( boa constrictor ) and ending with the largest ( anaconda ) . Data on the former are scanty , but there can be little doubt that the latter is sometimes born at a length greater than that of any of the others , thereby lending support to the belief that the anaconda does , indeed , attain the greatest length . For four of the six ( the anaconda and the amethystine python can not be included for lack of data ) there is also a correlation between size at maturity and maximum length , the boa constrictor being the smallest and the Indian python the next in size at the former stage . Let us speculate a little on the maximum size of the anaconda . If , in a certain part of the range , it starts life 1 foot longer than do any of the other ( relatively large ) giants , and reaches maturity at , let us guess , 18 inches longer than the others , a quadrupling of the maturity length would result in a maximum of ( nearly ) 40 feet . When it comes to rate of early growth , the Indian python leads with a figure of about 3 feet 6 inches per year for the first two years , more or less . The African rock python , a close second , is followed in turn by the reticulate python . There are few data on the boa constrictor , those for the anaconda are unconvincing , and there is nothing at all on the amethystine python . It seems likely that the Indian python comes out ahead because records of its growth have been made more carefully and frequently ; it responds exceptionally well to captivity and does not reach proportions that make it hard to keep . I can not make sense out of the figures for post maturity growth ; at best the annual increase appears to be a matter of inches rather than feet . Until better records have been kept over longer periods of time and much more is known about the maximum dimensions , it will be wise to refrain from drawing conclusions . It is often stated that the largest snakes require five years to attain maturity , but this apparently is an overestimation . The best way to determine the correct figure ( in captives ) is by direct observation of pairs isolated from birth , a method that produced surprising results : maturing of a male Indian python in less than two years , his mate in less than three ; data on the boa constrictor about match this . Another approach is to estimate from the rate of growth and the smallest size at maturity . Results from this approach amply confirm the direct observations : about three years are required , there being a possible slight difference between males and females in the time required . Only the amethystine python and the anaconda must be excluded for lack or paucity of data . The following information on snakes varying greatly in size ( but all with less than a 10-foot maximum ) shows , when considered with the foregoing , that there is probably no correlation between the length of a snake and the time required for it to mature . Oliver , in his summary of the habits of the snakes of the United States , could supply data on the maturing period for only three species in addition to the rattlers , which I shall consider separately . These three were much alike : lined snake ( Tropidoclonion ) , one year and nine months ; red-bellied snake ( Storeria ) , two years ; cottonmouth ( Ancistrodon ) , two years . Klauber investigated the rattlesnakes carefully himself and also summarized what others have found . He concluded that in the southern species , which are rapidly growing types , females mate at the age of two and a half and bear the first young when they are three . Other herpetologists have ascertained that in the northern United States the prairie rattlesnake may not give first birth until it is four or even five years old , and that the young may be born every other year , rather than annually . Carpenter 's study showed that female common garter and ribbon snakes of Michigan mature at about the age of two . MAXIMUM LENGTH Oversized monsters are never brought home either alive or preserved , and field measurements are obviously open to doubt because of the universal tendency to exaggerate dimensions . Measurements of skins are of little value ; every snake hide is noticeably longer than its carcass and intentional stretching presents no difficulty to the unscrupulous explorer . In spite of all the pitfalls , there is a certain amount of agreement on some of the giants . The anaconda proves to be the fly in the ointment , but the reason for this is not clear ; the relatively wild conditions still found in tropical South America might be responsible . There are three levels on which to treat the subject . The first is the strictly scientific , which demands concrete proof and therefore may err on the conservative side by waiting for evidence in the flesh . This approach rejects virtually all field measurements . The next level attempts to weigh varied evidence and come to a balanced , sensible conclusion ; field measurements by experienced explorers are not rejected , and even reports of a less scientific nature are duly evaluated . The third level leans on a belief that a lot of smoke means some fire . The argument against this last approach is comparable to that which rejects stories about hoop snakes , about snakes that break themselves into many pieces and join up again , or even of ghosts that chase people out of graveyards ; the mere piling up of testimony does not prove , to the scientific mind , the existence of hoop snakes , joint snakes , or ghosts . Oliver has recently used the second-level approach with the largest snakes , and has come to these conclusions : the anaconda reaches a length of at least 37 feet , the reticulate python 33 , the African rock python 25 , the amethystine python at least 22 , the Indian python 20 , and the boa constrictor 18-1/2 . Bernard Heuvelmans also treats of the largest snakes , but on the third level , and is chiefly concerned with the anaconda . He reasons that as anacondas 30 feet long are often found , some might be 38 , and occasional " monstrous freaks " over 50 . He rejects dimensions of 70 feet and more . His thirteenth chapter includes many exciting accounts of huge serpents with prodigious strength , but these seem to be given to complete his picture , not to be believed . Detailed information on record lengths of the giants is given in the section that follows . GROWTH OF THE SIX GIANTS Discussions of the giants one by one will include , as far as possible , data on these aspects of growth : size at which life is started and at which sexual maturity is reached ; time required to reach maturity ; rate of growth both before and after this crucial stage ; and maximum length , with confirmation or amplification of Oliver 's figures . Definite information on the growth of senile individuals is lacking . ANACONDA : At birth , this species varies considerably in size . A brood of twenty-eight born at Brookfield Zoo , near Chicago , ranged in length from 22 to 33-1/2 inches and averaged 29 inches . Lawrence E. Griffin gives measurements of nineteen young anacondas , presumably members of a brood , from " South America " ; the extreme measurements of these fall between the lower limit of the Brookfield brood and its average . Raymond L. Ditmars had two broods that averaged 27 inches . R. R. Mole and F. W. Urich give approximately 20 inches as the average length of a brood of thirty from the region of the Orinoco estuaries . William Beebe reports 26 inches and 2.4 ounces ( this snake must have been emaciated ) for the length and the weight of a young anaconda from British Guiana . In contrast , Ditmars recorded the average length of seventy-two young of a 19-foot female as 38 inches , and four young were born in London at a length of 35 or 36 inches and a weight of from 14 to 16 ounces . Beebe had a 3-foot anaconda that weighed only 9.8 ounces . A difference between subspecies might explain the great range in size . I have little information on the anaconda 's rate of growth . Hans Schweizer had one that increased from 19-1/2 inches to 5 feet 3 inches in five years , and J. J. Quelch records a growth of from less than 4 feet to nearly 10 in about six years . It is very unlikely that either of these anacondas was growing at a normal rate . In 1948 , Afranio do Amaral , the noted Brazilian herpetologist , wrote a technical paper on the giant snakes . He concluded that the anaconda 's maximum length is 12 or 13 ( perhaps 14 ) meters , which would approximate from 39 to 42 feet ( 14 meters is slightly less that 46 feet ) . Thus , his estimate lies between Oliver 's suggestion of at least 37 feet and the 50-foot " monstrous freaks " intimated by Heuvelmans . The most convincing recent measurement of an anaconda was made in eastern Colombia by Roberto Lamon , a petroleum geologist of the Richmond Oil Company , and reported in 1944 by Emmett R. Dunn . However , as a field measurement , it is open to question . Oliver 's 37-1/2 feet is partly based on this report and can be accepted as probable . However , many herpetologists remain skeptical and would prefer a tentative maximum of about 30 feet . It is possible that especially large anacondas will prove to belong to subspecies limited to a small area . In snakes difference in size is a common characteristic of subspecies . BOA CONSTRICTOR : A Colombian female 's brood of sixteen boa constrictors born in the Staten Island Zoo averaged 20 inches . This birth length seems to be typical . When some thirteen records of newly and recently born individuals are collated , little or no correlation between length and distribution can be detected . The range is from 14 to 25 inches ; the former figure is based on a somewhat unusual birth of four by a Central American female ( see chapter on Laying , Brooding , Hatching , and Birth ) , the latter on a " normal " newly born individual . However , as so many of the records are not certainly based on newborn snakes , these data must be taken tentatively ; final conclusions will have to await the measurements of broods from definite localities . Alphonse R. Hoge 's measurements of several very young specimens from Brazil suggest that at birth the female is slightly larger than the male . I have surprisingly little information on the size and age at maturity . Carl Kauffeld has written to me of sexual activity in February 1943 of young born in March 1940 . One female , collected on an island off the coast of Nicaragua , was gravid and measured 4 feet 8 inches from snout to vent ( her tail should be between 6 and 7 inches long ) . The female from Central America which gave birth to four was only 3 feet 11 inches long . What data there are on growth indicate considerable variation in rate ; unfortunately , no one has kept complete records of one individual , whereas many have been made for a very short period of time . The results are too varied to allow generalization . The bronchus and pulmonary artery in this lung type maintain a close relationship throughout . The pulmonary vein , however , without the limiting supportive tissue septa as in type /1 , , follows a more direct path to the hilum and does not maintain this close relationship ( figs. 8 , 22 ) . Another marked difference is noted here . The pulmonary artery , in addition to supplying the distal portion of the respiratory bronchiole , the alveolar duct , and the alveoli , continues on and directly supplies the thin pleura ( fig. 8 ) . The bronchial artery , except for a small number of short branches in the hilum , contributes none of the pleural blood supply . It does , as in type /1 , , supply the hilar lymph nodes , the pulmonary artery , the pulmonary vein , the bronchi , and the bronchioles — terminating in a common capillary bed with the pulmonary artery at the level of the respiratory bronchiole . No bronchial artery-pulmonary artery anastomoses were noted in this group . Lung type /3 , ( fig. 3 ) is to some degree a composite of types /1 , and /2 , . It is characterized by the presence of incompletely developed secondary lobules ; well defined , but haphazardly arranged , interlobular septa and a thick , remarkably vascular pleura ( fig. 9 ) . The most distal airways are similar to those found in type /1 , , being composed of numerous , apparently true terminal bronchioles and occasional , poorly developed respiratory bronchioles ( figs. 14 , 15 ) . In this instance , because of incomplete septation , the secondary lobule does not constitute in itself what appears to be a small individual lung as in type /1 , . Air-drifts from one area to another are , therefore , conceivable . Distally the bronchus is situated between a pulmonary artery on one side and a pulmonary vein on the other , as in type /1 , ( fig. 24 ) . This relationship , however , is not maintained centrally . Here the pulmonary vein , as in type /2 , , is noted to draw away from the bronchus , and to follow a more direct , independent course to the hilum ( figs. 23 , 24 ) . The bronchial artery in its course and distribution differs somewhat from that found in other mammals . As seen in types /1 , and /2 , , it supplies the hilar lymph nodes , vasa vasorum to the pulmonary artery and vein , the bronchi and the terminal bronchioles . As in type /1 , , it provides arterial blood to the interlobular septa , and an extremely rich anastomotic pleural supply is seen ( figs. 9 , 10 ) . This pleural supply is derived both from hilar and interlobular bronchial artery branches . Such a dual derivation was strikingly demonstrated during the injection process where initial filling would be noted to occur in several isolated pleural vessels at once . Some of these were obviously filling from interlobular branches of the bronchial arteries while others were filling from direct hilar branches following along the pleural surface . With completion of filling , net-like anastomoses were noted to be present between these separately derived branches . An unusual increase in the number of bronchial arteries present within the substance of the lung was noted . This was accounted for primarily by the presence of a bronchial artery closely following the pulmonary artery . The diameter of this bronchial artery was much too large for it to be a mere vasa vasorum ( figs. 16 , 23 , 24 ) . In distal regions its diameter would be one-fourth to one-fifth that of the pulmonary artery . This vessel could be followed to the parenchyma where it directly provided bronchial arterial blood to the alveolar capillary bed ( figs. 17 , 18 ) . Also three other direct pathways of alveolar bronchial arterial supply were noted : via the pleura ; through the interlobular septa ; and along the terminal bronchiole ( figs. 14 , 17 , 18 , 19 ) . One bronchial arteriolar-pulmonary arteriolar anastomosis was noted at the terminal bronchiolar level ( fig. 26 ) . DISCUSSION It is evident that many marked and striking differences exist between lungs when an inter-species comparison is made . The significance of these differences has not been studied nor has the existence of corresponding physiologic differences been determined . However , the dynamics of airflow , from morphologic considerations alone , may conceivably be different in the monkey than in the horse . The volume and , perhaps , even the characteristics of bronchial arterial blood flow might be different in the dog than in the horse . Also , interlobular air drifts may be all but nonexistent in the cow ; probably occur in the horse much as in the human being ; and , in contrast are present to a relatively immense degree on a segmental basis in the dog where lobules are absent ( Van Allen and Lindskog , '31 ) . A reason for such wide variation in the pulmonary morphology is entirely lacking at present . Within certain wide limits anatomy dictates function and , if one is permitted to speculate , potential pathology should be included in this statement as well . For example , the marked susceptibility of the monkey to respiratory infection might be related to its delicate , long alveolar ducts and short , large bronchioles situated within a parenchyma entirely lacking in protective supportive tissue barriers such as those found in types /1 , and /3 , . One might also wonder if monkeys are capable of developing bronchiolitis as we know it in man or the horse . In addition , it would be difficult to imagine chronic generalized emphysema occurring in a cow , considering its marked lobular development but , conversely , not difficult to imagine this occurring in the horse or the dog . Anatomically , the horse lung appears to be remarkably like that of man , insofar as this can be ascertained from comparison of our findings in the horse with those of others ( Birnbaum , '54 ) in the human being . The only area in which one might find major disagreement in this matter is in regard to the alveolar distribution of the bronchial arteries . As early as 1858 , Le Fort claimed an alveolar distribution of the bronchial arteries in human beings . In 1951 , this was reaffirmed by Cudkowicz . The opposition to this point of view has its staunchest support in the work of Miller ( '50 ) . Apparently , however , Miller has relied heavily on the anatomy in dogs and cats , and he has been criticized for using pathologic human material in his normal study ( Loosli , '38 ) . Although Miller noted in 1907 that a difference in the pleural blood supply existed between animals , nowhere in his published works is it found that he did a comparative study of the intrapulmonary features of various mammalian lungs other than in the dog and cat ( Miller , '13 ; '25 ) . The meaning of this variation in distribution of the bronchial artery as found in the horse is not clear . However , this artery is known to be a nutrient vessel with a distribution primarily to the proximal airways and supportive tissues of the lung . The alveoli and respiratory bronchioles are primarily diffusing tissues . Theoretically , they are capable of extracting their required oxygen either from the surrounding air ( Ghoreyeb and Karsner , '13 ) or from pulmonary arterial blood ( Comroe , '58 ) . Therefore , an explanation of this alveolar bronchial artery supply might be the nutritive requirement of an increased amount of supportive tissue , not primarily diffusing in nature , in the region of the alveolus . If this be true , the possibility exists that an occlusive lesion of the bronchial arteries might cause widespread degeneration of supportive tissue similar to that seen in generalized emphysema . One would not expect such an event to occur in animals possessing lungs of types /1 , or /2 , . The presence of normally occurring bronchial artery-pulmonary artery anastomoses was first noted in 1721 by Ruysch , and thereafter by many others . Nakamura ( '58 ) , Verloop ( '48 ) , Marchand , Gilroy and Watson ( '50 ) , von Hayek ( '53 ) , and Tobin ( '52 ) have all claimed their normal but relatively nonfunctional existence in the human being . Miller ( '50 ) is the principal antagonist of this viewpoint . In criticism of the latter 's views , his conclusions were based upon dog lung injection studies in which all of the vascular channels were first filled with a solution under pressure and then were injected with various sized colored particles designed to stop at the arteriolar level . As early as 1913 Ghoreyeb and Karsner demonstrated with perfusion studies in dogs that bronchial artery flow would remain constant at a certain low level when pressure was maintained in the pulmonary artery and vein , but that increases in bronchial artery flow would occur in response to a relative drop in pulmonary artery pressure . Berry , Brailsford and Daly in 1931 and Nakamura in 1958 reaffirmed this . Our own studies in which bronchial artery-pulmonary artery anastomoses were demonstrated , were accomplished by injecting the bronchial artery first with no pressure on the pulmonary artery or vein , and then by injecting the pulmonary artery and vein afterwards . It is distinctly possible , therefore , that simultaneous pressures in all three vessels would have rendered the shunts inoperable and hence , uninjectable . This viewpoint is further supported by Verloop 's ( '48 ) demonstration of thickened bronchial artery and arteriolar muscular coats which are capable of acting as valves . In other words , the anastomoses between the bronchial artery and pulmonary artery should be considered as functional or demand shunts . In addition , little work has been done on a comparative basis in regard to the normal existence of bronchial artery-pulmonary artery anastomoses . Verloop ( '48 ; '49 ) found these shunts in the human being but was unable to find them in rats . Ellis , Grindlay and Edwards ( '52 ) also were unable to find them in rats . Nakamura ( '58 ) was unable to demonstrate their existence , either by anatomic or physiologic methods , in dogs . The possibility that the absence or presence of these shunts is species-dependent is therefore inferred . Certainly , the mere fact of failing to demonstrate them in one or another species does not conclusively deny their existence in that species . It is , however , highly suggestive and agrees well with our own findings in which we also failed to demonstrate normally occurring bronchial artery-pulmonary artery shunts in certain species , especially the dog . In conclusion , these findings suggest the need for a comparative physiology , pathology , and histology of mammalian lungs . In addition , a detailed interspecies survey of the incidence of generalized pulmonary emphysema in mammals would be interesting and pertinent . Also , for the present , great caution should be exercised in the choice of an experimental animal for pulmonary studies if they are to be applied to man . This is especially so if the dog , cat or monkey are to be used , in view of their marked anatomical differences from man . Finally , it is suggested that in many respects the horse lung may be anatomically more comparable to that of the human than any other presently known species . SUMMARY The main subgross anatomical features of the lungs of various mammals are presented . A tabulation of these features permits the lungs to be grouped into three distinctive subgross types . Type /1 , is represented by the cow , sheep , and pig ; type /2 , , by the dog , cat , and monkey ; type /3 , , by the horse . Lobularity is extremely well developed in type /1 , ; absent in type /2 , ; imperfectly developed in type /3 , . The pleura and interlobular septa are thick in types /1 , and /3 , . The pleura is extremely thin in type /2 , and septa are absent . Arterial supply to the pleura in types /1 , and /3 , is provided by the bronchial artery , and in type /2 , , by the pulmonary artery . In types /1 , , /2 , and /3 , the bronchial artery terminates in a capillary bed shared in common with the pulmonary artery at the level of the distal bronchiole . In type /3 , the bronchial artery also provides blood directly to the alveolar capillary bed . True terminal bronchioles comprise the most frequent form taken by the distal airways in types /1 , and /3 , , although small numbers of poorly developed respiratory bronchioles are present . Well developed respiratory bronchioles , on the other hand , appear to be the only form taken by the distal airways in type /2 , . In type /1 , the pulmonary vein closely follows the course of the bronchus and the pulmonary artery from the periphery to the hilum . This maybe due to the heavy interlobular connective tissue barriers present . In type /3 , this general relationship is maintained peripherally but not centrally where the pulmonary vein follows a more independent path to the hilum as is the case throughout the lung in type /2 , . Some of the features of the top portions of Figure 1 and Figure 2 were mentioned in discussing Table 1 . First , the Onset Profile spreads across approximately 12 years for boys and 10 years for girls . In contrast , 20 of the 21 lines in the Completion Profile ( excluding center 5 for boys and 4 for girls ) are bunched and extend over a much shorter period , approximately 30 months for boys and 40 months for girls . The Maturity Chart for each sex demonstrates clearly that Onset is a phenomenon of infancy and early childhood whereas Completion is a phenomenon of the later portion of adolescence . Second , for both sexes , the 21 transverse lines in the Onset Profile vary more in individual spread than those in the Completion Profile . Although the standard deviation values on which spread of the lines are based are relatively larger for those centers which begin to ossify early ( Table 1 ) , there are considerable differences in this value between centers having the closely timed Onsets . Third , the process of calcification is seen to begin later and to continue much longer for these boys than for the girls , a fact which confirms data for other groups of children . The Onset Profile and Completion Profile are constructed to serve as norms for children . It is convenient to classify a child 's onset ages and completion ages as " advanced " , " moderate " ( modal ) , or " delayed " according to whether the child 's age equivalent " dots " appeared to the left of , upon , or to the right of the appropriate short transverse line . When a dot appears close to the end of the transverse line , the " moderate " rating may be further classified according to the position of the dot with respect to the vertical marking denoting the mean age . Such classifications may be called " somewhat advanced " or " somewhat delayed " , as the case may be , reserving " moderate " for dots upon or close to the mean . In the lower portion of each Chart , the Skeletal Age ( Hand ) of boy 34 and girl 2 may be similarly classified . There the middle one of the three curves denotes " mean Skeletal Age " for the Maturity Series boys and girls . The upper curve denotes the mean plus one standard deviation , and the lower curve represents the mean minus one standard deviation . Thus , a child 's Skeletal Age " dots " may be classified as " advanced " when they appear above the middle curve , " moderate " when they appear immediately above or below the middle curve , and " delayed " when they appear below the lower curve . To summarize the purpose of the Skeletal Maturity Chart : each contains two kinds of skeletal maturity norms which show two quite different methods of depicting developmental level of growth centers . First , the upper portion requires series of films for every child , consisting of those from Hand , Elbow , Shoulder , Knee , and Foot . The lower portion necessitates only films of Hand . Second , the upper portion permits comparison of maturity levels of an equal number of growth centers from the long , short , and round bones of the five regions . The lower portion permits comparison of maturity levels of short and round bones predominantly , since only two long bones are included in Hand and Wrist as a region . Third , the upper portion deals with only two indicators of developmental level , Onset and Completion . The lower portion utilizes the full complement of intermediate maturity indicators of each Hand center as well as their Onset and Completion . Fourth , the two indicators are for the most part widely separated chronologically , with the extensive age gap occurring during childhood for all but one growth center . The lower portion provides a rating at any stage between infancy and adulthood . Onsets , Completions , and Skeletal Ages ( Hand ) of boy 34 and girl 2 may be directly compared and classified , using only those Skeletal Ages which appear immediately below the Onset Profile and the Completion Profile . It may be assumed that differences in ratings due to selection of growth centers from specific regions of the body will be small , according to existing tables of onset age and completion age for centers throughout the body . Accordingly , maturity level ratings by means of the upper portion and lower portion of the Chart , respectively , should be somewhat similar since Skeletal Age assessments are dependent upon Onsets during infancy and upon Completions during adolescence . It is clear that there are some differences in the ratings , but there is substantial agreement . Since a Skeletal Age rating can be made at any age during growth , from Elbow , Shoulder , Knee , or Foot as well as Hand , it seems to be the method of choice when one wishes to study most aspects of skeletal developmental progress during childhood . As stated earlier in the paper , Onsets and Completions — particularly the former — provide a different tool or indicator of expectancy in osseous development , each within a limited age period . Such an indicator , or indicators , are needed as means of recognizing specific periods of delay in skeletal developmental progress . It was stated earlier that one purpose of this study was to extend the analysis of variability of Onset and Completion in each of the 21 growth centers somewhat beyond that provided by the data in Tables 1 and 2 . As one approach to doing this , Figures 3 and 4 have been constructed from the mean ages and the individual onset and completion ages for boy 34 and girl 2 . The differences between onset age and completion age with respect to the corresponding mean age have been brought into juxtaposition by means of a series of arrows . The data for boy 34 appear in Figure 3 , and for girl 2 in Figure 4 . The numbering system used in Tables 1 and 2 and Figures 1 and 2 was continued for the 21 growth centers . The " dot " on one end of each arrow indicates extent of difference in months between the child 's onset age and the corresponding mean age for the growth center . The " tip " of the arrow represents extent of difference between the child 's completion age and the corresponding mean age for the growth center . Thus , the alignment of the " dots " and " tips " , respectively , indicate individual variability of the 21 growth centers of each child with respect to the mean values for these boys and girls . The direction in which the arrow points shows how the maturity level of the growth center was changed at Completion from the level at Onset . When the " dot " and " tip " coincide , the classification used in this paper is " same schedule " . The length of the arrow indicates amount of slowing or acceleration at Completion over that at Onset , and the difference in months can be read roughly by referring the arrow to the age scale along the base of each figure , or more precisely by referring to the original data in the appropriate tables . The difference between the sequence of Onset of ossification for the sexes governs the numbering sequence in Figures 3 and 4 . This difference is readily clarified by referring to Table 1 . For example , arrow 17 in Figure 3 portrays the proximal radial epiphysis for boy 34 , whereas the same epiphysis for girl 2 is portrayed by arrow 18 in Figure 4 . For the boy , this epiphysis was markedly delayed at Onset but near the mean at Completion . Thus , the Span of its ossification was shortened and the center 's ability to " catch up " in ossification is demonstrated . In contrast , for the girl the epiphysis was slightly advanced at Onset and delayed at Completion . Obviously , the slowing for her may have occurred at any point between Onset and Completion . The Skeletal Age curve in the lower portion of Figure 2 shows that slowing may have occurred for her during the prepubescent period . Length of the shaft of these arrows may be evaluated according to the standard deviation values for each center in Table 1 . We have attempted to simplify the extensive task of analyzing onset ages and completion ages of each child — more than 1700 values for the entire group — by constructing figures for each of the 21 centers so that the data for all 34 boys and 34 of the girls will appear together for each growth center . Figures 5 and 6 are examples of our method of analyzing the results for each growth center . Forty other figures similar to 5 and 6 and the original data used in the construction of all figures and tables in this monograph have been included in the Appendix . The principles used in making each arrow for Figures 3 and 4 were applied to the construction of Figures 5 and 6 as well as all figures in the Appendix . One growth center in a short bone — distal phalanx of the second finger — was chosen as an example for discussion here , primarily because epiphyseal-diaphyseal fusion , the maturity indicator for Completion in long and short bones , occurs in this center for girls near the menarche and for boys near their comparable pubescent stage . Its Completion thus becomes one of the convenient maturity indicators to include in studies of growth , dietary patterns , and health during adolescence . The following summary , based on Figures 5 and 6 , is an example of one way of interpreting the 42 figures constructed from onset ages and completion ages of individual children with respect to the appropriate mean age for each growth center . At the top of Figure 5 , for example , the Onset range and Completion range lines for the chosen growth center have been drawn for girls according to their mean and standard deviation values in Table 1 . The 34 arrows , denoting onset age plus completion age deviations , have been arrayed in an Onset sequence which begins with girl 18 who had the earliest Onset of the 34 girls . The growth center depicted here , in the distal phalanx of the second finger , is listed as the fifth of those in the seven short bones . The mean onset age was 25.3 months ( Table 1 ) , and the average Span of the osseous stage was 133 months . The correlation ( Table 2 ) between onset age and completion age was +.50 , and that between onset age and Span was -.10 . With due consideration for the limits of precision in assessing , expected rate of change in ossification of girls age 2 years , and the known variations in rate of ossification of these children as described in our preceding paper in the Supplement , each arrow with a " shaft length " of four months or less was selected as indicating " same schedule " at Onset and Completion , for this particular epiphysis . Accordingly , girls 31 , 29 , 33 , 21 , 26 , 13 , 3 , 4 , 14 , 32 , 24 , 25 , 34 , 23 , 6 , 15 , 22 , and 16 may be said to have the " same schedule " at Onset and Completion . It seems clear , from the counter-balanced shape of the series of arrows in Figure 5 that there was about an equal number of early and late Onsets and Completions for the 34 girls . Accordingly , if epiphyseal-diaphyseal fusion occurs in this phalanx near menarche , early and late menarches might have been forecast rather precisely at the time of Onset of ossification for the 18 girls with " same schedule " . As an example of the interpretation of an arrow in the figure which exceeds four months in shaft length in conjunction with its position in the figure : girl 2 had a delayed Onset and further delayed Completion . It is of interest that her menarche was somewhat later than the average for the girls in this group . A similar analysis of Figure 6 for the 34 boys would necessitate quite a different conclusion about the predictive value of onset age in forecasting their attainment of the pubescent stage . Boys 32 , 23 , 31 , 17 , 30 , 19 , and 24 had " same schedule " at Onset and Completion ; thus early forecasting of the pubescent stage would appear possible for only seven boys . Boy 34 , like girl 2 , did not have " same schedule " ; his arrow crosses the line denoting the mean . The " dot " on his arrow indicates early Onset and the " tip " indicates relatively later Completion . After the 42 figures had been drawn like Figures 5 and 6 , classifications of the onset ages and completion ages were summarized from them . Interestingly enough , the effect of the digitalis glycosides is inhibited by a high concentration of potassium in the incubation medium and is enhanced by the absence of potassium ( Wolff , 1960 ) . B. ORGANIFICATION OF IODINE The precise mechanism for organification of iodine in the thyroid is not as yet completely understood . However , the formation of organically bound iodine , mainly mono-iodotyrosine , can be accomplished in cell-free systems . In the absence of additions to the homogenate , the product formed is an iodinated particulate protein ( Fawcett and Kirkwood , 1953 ; Taurog , Potter and Chaikoff , 1955 ; Taurog , Potter , Tong , and Chaikoff , 1956 ; Serif and Kirkwood , 1958 ; De Groot and Carvalho , 1960 ) . This iodoprotein does not appear to be the same as what is normally present in the thyroid , and there is no evidence so far that thyroglobulin can be iodinated in vitro by cell-free systems . In addition , the iodoamino acid formed in largest quantity in the intact thyroid is di-iodotyrosine . If tyrosine and a system generating hydrogen peroxide are added to a cell-free homogenate of the thyroid , large quantities of free mono-iodotyrosine can be formed ( Alexander , 1959 ) . It is not clear whether this system bears any resemblance to the in vivo iodinating mechanism , and a system generating peroxide has not been identified in thyroid tissue . On chemical grounds it seems most likely that iodide is first converted to **f and then to **f as the active iodinating species . In the thyroid gland it appears that proteins ( chiefly thyroglobulin ) are iodinated and that free tyrosine and thyronine are not iodinated . Iodination of tyrosine , however , is not enough for the synthesis of hormone . The mono — and di-iodotyrosine must be coupled to form tri-iodothyronine and thyroxine . The mechanism of this coupling has been studied in some detail with non-enzymatic systems in vitro and can be simulated by certain di-iodotyrosine analogues ( Pitt-Rivers and James , 1958 ) . There is so far no evidence to indicate conclusively that this coupling is under enzymatic control . The chemical nature of the iodocompounds is discussed below ( pp. 76 et seq . ) . C. THYROGLOBULIN SYNTHESIS Little is known of the synthetic mechanisms for formation of thyroglobulin . Its synthesis has not been demonstrated in cell-free systems , nor has its synthesis by systems with intact thyroid cells in vitro been unequivocally proven . There is some reason to think that thyroglobulin synthesis may proceed independently of iodination , for in certain transplantable tumours of the rat thyroid containing essentially no iodinated thyroglobulin , a protein that appears to be thyroglobulin has been observed in ultracentrifuge experiments ( Wolff , Robbins and Rall , 1959 ) . Similar findings have been noted in a patient with congenital absence of the organification enzymes , whose thyroid tissue could only concentrate iodide . In addition , depending on availability of dietary iodine , thyroglobulin may contain varying quantities of iodine . D. SECRETION Since the circulating thyroid hormones are the amino acids thyroxine and tri-iodothyronine ( cf. Section C ) , it is clear that some mechanism must exist in the thyroid gland for their release from proteins before secretion . The presence of several proteases and peptidases has been demonstrated in the thyroid . One of the proteases has pH optimum of about 3.7 and another of about 5.7 ( McQuillan , Stanley and Trikojus , 1954 ; Alpers , Robbins and Rall , 1955 ) . The finding that the concentration of one of these proteases is increased in thyroid glands from TSH-treated animals suggests that this protease may be active in vivo . There is no conclusive evidence yet that either of the proteases has been prepared in highly purified form nor is their specificity known . A study of their activity on thyroglobulin has shown that thyroxine is not preferentially released and that the degradation proceeds stepwise with the formation of macromolecular intermediates ( Alpers , Petermann and Rall , 1956 ) . Besides proteolytic enzymes the thyroid possesses de-iodinating enzymes . A microsomal de-iodinase with a pH optimum of around 8 , and requiring reduced triphosphopyridine nucleotide for activity , has been identified in the thyroid ( Stanbury , 1957 ) . This de-iodinating enzyme is effective against mono — and di-iodotyrosine , but does not de-iodinate thyroxine or tri-iodothyronine . It is assumed that the iodine released from the iodotyrosines remains in the iodide pool of the thyroid , where it is oxidised and re-incorporated into thyroglobulin . The thyroxine and tri-iodothyronine released by proteolysis and so escaping de-iodination presumably diffuse into the blood stream . It has been shown that thyroglobulin binds thyroxine , but the binding does not appear to be particularly strong . It has been suggested that the plasma thyroxine-binding proteins , which have an extremely high affinity for thyroxine , compete with thyroglobulin for thyroxine ( Ingbar and Freinkel , 1957 ) . E. ANTITHYROID DRUGS Antithyroid drugs are of two general types . One type has a small univalent anion of the TOOLONG type . This ion inhibits thyroid hormone synthesis by interfering with iodide concentration in the thyroid . It does not appear to affect the iodinating mechanism as such . The other group of antithyroid agents or drugs is typified by thiouracil . These drugs have no effect on the iodide concentrating mechanism , but they inhibit organification . The mechanism of action of these drugs has not been completely worked out , but certain of them appear to act by reducing the oxidised form of iodine before it can iodinate thyroglobulin ( Astwood , 1954 ) . On the other hand , there are a few antithyroid drugs of this same general type , such as resorcinol , possessing no reducing activity and possibly acting through formation of a complex with molecular iodine . Any of the antithyroid drugs , of either type , if given in large enough doses for a long period of time will cause goitre , owing to inhibition of thyroid hormone synthesis , with production of hypothyroidism . The anterior lobe of the pituitary then responds by an increased output of TSH , causing the thyroid to enlarge . The effect of drugs that act on the iodide-concentrating mechanism can be counteracted by addition of relatively large amounts of iodine to the diet . The antithyroid drugs of the thiouracil type , however , are not antagonised by such means . Besides those of the thiouracil and resorcinol types , certain antithyroid drugs have been found in naturally occurring foods . The most conclusively identified is TOOLONG , which was isolated from rutabaga ( Greer , 1950 ) . It is presumed to occur in other members of the Brassica family . There is some evidence that naturally occurring goitrogens may play a role in the development of goitre , particularly in Tasmania and Australia ( Clements and Wishart , 1956 ) . There it seems that the goitrogen ingested by dairy animals is itself inactive but is converted in the animal to an active goitrogen , which is then secreted in the milk . F. DIETARY INFLUENCES Besides the presence of goitrogens in the diet , the level of iodine itself in the diet plays a major role in governing the activity of the thyroid gland . In the experimental animal and in man gross deficiency in dietary iodine causes thyroid hyperplasia , hypertrophy and increased thyroid activity ( Money , Rall and Rawson , 1952 ; Stanbury , Brownell , Riggs , Perinetti , Itoiz , and Del Castillo , 1954 ) . In man the normal level of iodine in the diet and the level necessary to prevent development of goitre is about 100 mg per day . With lower levels , thyroid hypertrophy and increased thyroid blood-flow enable the thyroid to accumulate a larger proportion of the daily intake of iodine . Further , the gland is able to re-use a larger fraction of the thyroid hormone de-iodinated peripherally . In the presence of a low iodine intake , thyroglobulin labelled in vivo with **f is found to contain more mono-iodotyrosine than normal , the amounts of di-iodotyrosine and iodothyronines being correspondingly reduced . This appearsto result from both a reduced amount of the iodine substrate and a more rapid secretion of newly iodinated thyroglobulin . If the deficiency persists long enough , it is reasonable to suppose that the **f label will reflect the **f distribution in the thyroglobulin . Similar results might be expected from the influence of drugs or pathological conditions that limit iodide trapping , or organification , or accelerate thyroglobulin proteolysis . B. THE THYROID-STIMULATING HORMONE The name thyroid-stimulating hormone ( TSH ) has been given to a substance found in the anterior pituitary gland of all species of animal so far tested for its presence . The hormone has also been called thyrotrophin or thyrotrophic hormone . At the present time we do not know by what biochemical mechanism TSH acts on the thyroid , but for bio-assay of the hormone there are a number of properties by which its activity may be estimated , including release of iodine from the thyroid , increase in thyroid weight , increase in mean height of the follicular cells and increase in the thyroidal uptake of **f . Here we shall restrict discussion to those methods that appear sufficiently sensitive and precise for determining the concentration of TSH in blood . Brown ( 1959 ) has reviewed generally the various methods of assaying TSH , and the reader is referred to her paper for further information on the subject . 1 . CHEMICAL CONSTITUTION AND PHYSICAL PROPERTIES OF PITUITARY TSH As long ago as 1851 it was pointed out by Niepce ( 1851 ) that there is a connection between the pituitary and the thyroid . This connection was clarified by Smith and Smith ( 1922 ) , who showed that saline extracts of fresh bovine pituitary glands could re-activate the atrophied thyroids of hypophysectomised tadpoles . The first attempts to isolate TSH came a decade later , when Janssen and Loeser ( 1931 ) used trichloroacetic acid to separate the soluble TSH from insoluble impurities . After their work other investigators applied salt-fractionation techniques to the problem , as well as fractionation with organic solvents , such as acetone . Albert ( 1949 ) has concluded that the most active preparations of TSH made during this period , from 1931 to 1945 , were probably about 100 to 300 times as potent as the starting material . Much of this work has been reviewed by White ( 1944 ) and by Albert ( 1949 ) . Developments up to about 1957 have been discussed by Sonenberg ( 1958 ) . In the last few years , the application of chromatographic and other modern techniques to the problem of isolating TSH has led to further purification ( Bates and Condliffe , 1960 ; Pierce , Carsten and Wynston , 1960 ) . The most active preparations obtained by these two groups of investigators appear to be similar in potency , composition and physical properties . Two problems present themselves in considering any hormone in blood . First , is the circulating form of the hormone the same as that found in the gland where it is synthesised and stored ? Second , what is its concentration in normal circumstances and in what circumstances will this concentration depart from the normal level and in which direction ? It is therefore necessary to consider the properties of pituitary TSH if the fragmentary chemical information about blood TSH is to be discussed rationally . The importance of knowing in what chemical forms the hormone may exist is accentuated by the recent observation that there exists an abnormally long-acting TSH in blood drawn from many thyrotoxic patients ( Adams , 1958 ) . Whether this abnormal TSH differs chemically from pituitary TSH , or is , alternatively , normal TSH with its period of effectiveness modified by some other blood constituent , can not be decided without chemical study of the activity in the blood of these patients and a comparison of the substance responsible for the blood activity with pituitary TSH . In evaluating data on the concentration of TSH in blood , one must examine critically the bio-assay methods used to obtain them . The introduction of the United States Pharmacopoeia reference standard in 1952 and the redefinition and equating of the USP and international units of thyroid-stimulating activity have made it possible to compare results published by different investigators since that time . We should like to re-emphasise the importance of stating results solely in terms of international units of TSH activity and of avoiding the re-introduction of biological units . For the most part , this discussion will be confined to results obtained since the introduction of the reference standard . A. STANDARD PREPARATIONS AND UNITS OF THYROID-STIMULATING ACTIVITY The international unit ( u. ) , adopted to make possible the comparison of results from different laboratories ( Mussett and Perry , 1955 ) , has been defined as the amount of activity present in 13.5 mg of the International Standard Preparation . The international unit is equipotent with the USP unit adopted in 1952 , which was defined as the amount of activity present in 20 mg of the USP reference substance . INTRODUCTION Muscle weakness is now recognized as an uncommon though serious complication of steroid therapy , with most of the synthetic adrenal corticosteroids in clinical use . Although biopsies have shown structural changes in some of the reported cases of steroid-induced weakness , this case provides the only example known to us in which necropsy afforded the opportunity for extensive study of multiple muscle groups . The case described in this paper is that of an older man who developed disabling muscular weakness while receiving a variety of steroids for a refractory anemia . REPORT OF CASE This patient was a 65-year-old white male accountant who entered the New York Hospital for his fourth and terminal admission on June 26 , 1959 , because of disabling weakness and general debility . In 1953 the patient developed an unexplained anemia for which 15 blood transfusions were given over a period of 4 years . Splenomegaly was first noted in 1956 , and a sternal marrow biopsy at that time showed " scattered foci of fibrosis " suggestive of myelofibrosis . No additional transfusions were necessary after the institution of prednisone in July , 1957 , in an initial dose of 40 mg. daily with gradual tapering to 10 mg. daily . This medication was continued until February , 1958 . In February , 1958 , the patient suffered a myocardial infarction complicated by pulmonary edema . Additional findings at this time included cardiomegaly , peripheral arteriosclerosis obliterans , and cholelithiasis . The hemoglobin was 11.6 gm . Therapy included digitalization and anticoagulation . Later , chlorothiazide and salt restriction became necessary to control the edema of chronic congestive failure . Because of increasing anemia , triamcinolone , 8 mg. daily , was started on Feb. 23 , 1958 , and was continued until july , 1958 . In september , 1958 , the patient developed generalized weakness and fatigue which was concurrent with exacerbation of his anemia ; the hemoglobin was 10.6 gm . In an attempt to reverse the downhill trend by stimulating the bone marrow and controlling any hemolytic component , triamcinolone , 16 mg. daily , was begun on Sept. 26 , 1958 , and continued until Feb. 18 , 1959 . At first the patient felt stronger , and the hemoglobin rose to 13.8 gm. , but on Oct. 20 , 1958 , he complained of " caving in " in his knees . By Nov. 8 , 1958 , weakness , specifically involving the pelvic and thigh musculature , was pronounced , and a common complaint was " difficulty in stepping up on to curbs " . Prednisone , 30 mg. daily , was substituted for triamcinolone from Nov. 22 until Dec. 1 , 1958 , without any improvement in the weakness . Serum potassium at this time was 3.8 mEq. per liter , and the hemoglobin was 13.9 gm . By Dec. 1 , 1958 , the weakness in the pelvic and quadriceps muscle groups was appreciably worse , and it became difficult for the patient to rise unaided from a sitting or reclining position . Triamcinolone , 16 mg. daily , was resumed and maintained until Feb. 18 , 1959 . Chlorothiazide was omitted for a 2-week period , but there was no change in the muscle weakness . At this time a detailed neuromuscular examination revealed diffuse muscle atrophy that was moderate in the hands and feet , but marked in the shoulders , hips , and pelvic girdle , with hypoactive deep-tendon reflexes . No fasciculations or sensory defects were found . Electromyography revealed no evidence of lower motor neuron disease . Thyroid function tests yielded normal results . The protein-bound iodine was 6.6mg. % , and the radioactive iodine uptake over the thyroid gland was 46% in 24 hours , with a conversion ratio of 12% . A Schilling test demonstrated normal absorption of vitamin **f . In February , 1959 , during the second admission to The New York Hospital , a biopsy specimen of the left gastrocnemius showed striking increase in the sarcolemmal sheath nuclei and shrunken muscle fibers in several sections . Serial serum potassium levels remained normal ; the serum glutamic oxaloacetic transaminase was 10 units per ml. per min . The clinical impression at this time was either muscular dystrophy or polymyositis . On Feb. 12 , 1959 , purified corticotropin ( ACTH Gel ) , 20 units daily intramuscularly , was started but had to be discontinued 3 weeks later because of excessive fluid retention . From March 3 to May 1 , 1949 , the patient was maintained on dexamethasone , 3 to 6 mg. daily . In May 1959 , prednisone , 30 mg. daily , replaced the dexamethasone . Muscle weakness did not improve , and the patient needed first a cane , then crutches . In spite of normal thyroid function tests , a trial of propylthiouracil , 400 mg. daily for one week , was given but served only to intensify muscle weakness . Repeated attempts to withdraw steroids entirely were unsuccessful because increased muscle weakness resulted , as well as fever , malaise , anorexia , anxiety , and an exacerbation of the anemia . These reactions were interpreted as being manifestations of hypoadrenocorticism . Severe back pain in June , 1959 , prompted a third hospital admission . Extensive osteoporosis with partial collapse of D8 was found . A high-protein diet , calcium lactate supplements , and norethandrolone failed to change the skeletal complaint or the severe muscle weakness . The terminal hospital admission on June 27 , 1959 , was necessitated by continued weakness and debility complicated by urinary retention and painful thrombosed hemorrhoids . X-ray films of the vertebral column showed progression of the demineralization . On July 4 , 1959 , the patient developed marked abdominal pain and distension , went into shock , and died . FINDINGS AT NECROPSY The body was that of a well-developed , somewhat debilitated white man weighing 108 lb . There were bilateral pterygia and arcus senilis , and the mouth was edentulous . The heart weighed 510 gm. , and at the outflow tracts the left and right ventricles measured 19 and 3 mm. , respectively . The coronary arteries were sclerotic and diffusely narrowed throughout their courses , and the right coronary artery was virtually occluded by a yellow atheromatous plaque 1.5 cm. distal to its origin . The myocardium of the posterior base of the left ventricle was replaced by gray scar tissue over a 7.5 cm. area . The valves were normal except for thin yellow plaques on the inferior surface of the mitral leaflets . Microscopically , sections from the posterior base of the left ventricle of the heart showed several large areas of replacement of muscle by fibrous tissue . In addition , other sections contained focal areas of recent myocardial necrosis that were infiltrated with neutrophils . Many of the myocardial fibers were hypertrophied and had large , irregular , basophilic nuclei . The intima of the larger coronary arteries was thickened by fibrous tissue containing fusiform clefts and mononuclear cells . The intimal surface of the aorta was covered with confluent , yellow-brown , hard , friable plaques along its entire course , and there was a marked narrowing of the orifices of the large major visceral arteries . In particular , the orifices of the right renal and celiac arteries were virtually occluded , and both calcified common iliac arteries were completely occluded . The lungs weighed together 950 gm . On the surfaces of both lungs there were emphysematous blebs measuring up to 3 cm. in diameter . The parenchyma was slightly hyperemic in the apex of the left lung , and there were several firm , gray , fibrocalcific nodules measuring as large as 3 mm . Microscopically , there was emphysema , fibrosis , and vascular congestion . Macrophages laden with brown pigment were seen in some of the alveoli , and the intima of some of the small arteries was thickened by fibrous tissue . The firm red spleen weighed 410 gm. , and its surface was mottled by discrete , small patches of white material . The endothelial cells lining the sinusoids were prominent , and many contained large quantities of hemosiderin . Some of the sinusoids contained large numbers of nucleated red cells , and cells of the granulocytic series were found in small numbers . There were slight fibrosis and marked arteriolosclerosis . The liver weighed 2,090 gm. , was brown in color , and the cut surface was mottled by irregular pale areas . Microscopically , there was hyperemia of the central veins , and there was some atrophy of adjacent parenchyma . Some liver cord cells contained vacuolated cytoplasm , while others had small amounts of brown hemosiderin pigment . The gallbladder contained about 40 cc. of green-brown bile and 3 smooth , dark-green calculi measuring up to 1 cm. in diameter . The mucosa of the stomach was atrophic and irregularly blackened over a 14 cm. area . The small and large intestines were filled with gas , and the jejunum was dilated to about 2 times its normal circumference . The small intestine and colon contained approximately 300 cc. of foul-smelling , sanguineous material , and the mucosa throughout was hyperemic and mottled green-brown . A careful search failed to show occlusion of any of the mesenteric vessels . Microscopically , the mucosa of the stomach showed extensive cytolysis and contained large numbers of Gram-negative bacterial rods . The submucosa was focally infiltrated with neutrophils . The mucosa of the jejunum and ileum showed similar changes , and in some areas the submucosa was edematous and contained considerable numbers of neutrophils . Some of the small vessels were filled with fibrin thrombi , and there was extensive interstitial hemorrhage . A section of the colon revealed intense hyperemia and extensive focal ulcerations of the mucosa , associated with much fibrin and many neutrophils . Cultures taken from the jejunum yielded Monilia albicans , Pseudomonas pyocanea , Aerobacter aerogenes , and Streptococcus anhemolyticus . The kidneys were pale and weighed right , 110 gm. , and left , 230 gm . The surfaces were coarsely and finely granular and punctuated by clear , fluid-filled cysts measuring up to 3 cm. in diameter . On the surface of the right kidney there were also 2 yellow , firm , friable raised areas measuring up to 2 cm. in diameter . Microscopically , both kidneys showed many small cortical scars in which there was glomerular and interstitial fibrosis , tubular atrophy , and an infiltration of lymphocytes and plasma cells . Occasional tubules contained hyaline casts admixed with neutrophils . Throughout , there were marked arteriolosclerosis and hyalinization of afferent glomerular arterioles . These changes were more marked in the atrophic right kidney than in the left . In addition , there were 2 small papillary adenomas in the right kidney . The bone of the vertebral bodies , ribs , and sternum was soft and was easily compressed . The marrow of the vertebral bodies was pale and showed areas of fatty replacement . Microscopically , there were many areas of hypercellularity alternating with areas of hypocellularity . The cells of the erythroid , myeloid , and megakaryocytic series were normal except for their numbers . There was no evidence of fibrosis . The muscles of the extremities , chest wall , neck , and abdominal wall were soft , pale , and atrophic . Microscopic studies of the gastrocnemius , pectoralis major , transversus abdominis , biceps brachii , and diaphragm showed atrophy as well as varying degrees of injury ranging from swelling and vacuolization to focal necrosis of the muscle fibers . These changes were most marked in the gastrocnemius and biceps and less evident in the pectoralis , diaphragm , and transversus . In the gastrocnemius and biceps there were many swollen and homogeneous necrotic fibers such as that shown in Figure 2 . Such swollen fibers were deeply eosinophilic , contained a few pyknotic nuclei , and showed loss of cross-striations , obliteration of myofibrils , and prominent vacuolization . The necrosis often involved only a portion of the length of a given fiber , and usually the immediately adjacent fibers were normal . As shown in Figure 3 , the protoplasm of other fibers was pale , granular , or flocculated and invaded by phagocytes . Inflammatory cells were strikingly absent . In association with these changes in the fibers , there were striking alterations in the muscle nuclei . These were increased both in number and in size , contained prominent nucleoli , and were distributed throughout the fiber ( Figs. 2-5 ) . In contrast to the nuclear changes described above , another change in muscle nuclei was seen , usually occurring in fibers that were somewhat smaller than normal but that showed distinct cross-striations and myofibrillae . The nuclei of these fibers , as is shown in Figures 3 and 4 , showed remarkable proliferation and were closely approximated , forming a chainlike structure at either the center or the periphery of the fiber . Individual nuclei were usually oval to round , though occasionally elongated , and frequently small and somewhat pyknotic . At times , clumps of 10 to 15 closely-packed nuclei were also observed . Occasionally there were small basophilic fibers that were devoid of myofibrillae and contained many vesicular nuclei with prominent nucleoli ( Fig. 5 ) . These were thought to represent regenerating fibers . Trichrome stains failed to show fibrosis in the involved muscles . In all of the sections examined , the arterioles and small arteries were essentially normal . PURIFICATION OF THE CONJUGATES In attempting to improve specificity of staining , the fluorescein-labeled antisera used in both direct and indirect methods were treated in one of several ways : ( 1 ) They were passed through Dowex-2-chloride twice and treated with acetone insoluble powders ( Coons , 1958 ) prepared from mouse liver or from healthy sweet clover stems or crown gall tissue produced by Agrobacterium tumefaciens ( E. F. Smith + Townsend ) Conn , on sweet clover stems . ( 2 ) The conjugates as well as the intermediate sera were absorbed for 30 minutes with 20-50 mg of proteins extracted from healthy sweet clover stems . The proteins were extracted with 3 volumes of **f in **f to give a nearly neutral extract and precipitated by 80% saturation with **f . The precipitate was washed twice with an 80% saturated solution of **f , dissolved in a small quantity of 0.1 M neutral phosphate buffer , dialyzed against cold distilled water till free from ammonium ions , and lyophilized using liquid nitrogen . ( 3 ) In other experiments the indirect conjugate was treated with 3 volumes of ethyl acetate as recommended by Dineen and Ade ( 1957 ) . ( 4 ) The conjugates were passed through a diethylaminoethyl ( DEAE- ) cellulose column equilibrated with neutral phosphate buffer ( PBS ) containing **f potassium phosphate and **f . PREPARATION OF FROZEN SECTIONS The technique of cutting sections was essentially the same as that described by Coons et al. ( 1951 ) . Root and stem tumors from sweet clover plants infected with WTV were quick-frozen in liquid nitrogen , embedded in ice , and cut at 3-6 m in a cryostat maintained at -16° to -20° . The sections were mounted on cold slides smeared with Haupts ' adhesive ( Johansen , 1940 ) in earlier experiments , and in later experiments with a different mixture of the same components reported by Schramm and R.ouml ; ttger ( 1959 ) . The latter adhesive was found to be much more satisfactory . The sections were then thawed by placing a finger under the slide and dried under a fan for 30 minutes ; until used they were stored for as long as 2 weeks . STAINING TECHNIQUE INDIRECT METHOD . The sections were fixed in acetone for 15 minutes and dried at 37° for 30 minutes . Some of them were then covered with a drop of **f in a moist chamber at 24° for 30-40 minutes . As controls other sections were similarly covered with NS . Sections were then washed with PBS for 15-30 minutes . After blotting out most of the saline around the sections , a drop of **f was layered over each of the sections , allowed to react for 30 minutes , and then washed with PBS for 15-30 minutes . After blotting out most of the liquid around the sections , the latter were mounted in buffered glycerine ( 7 parts glycerine to 3 parts of PBS ) . DIRECT METHOD . After drying the sections under the fan , fixing in acetone , and drying at 37° as in the indirect method , the sections were treated with conjugated **f or **f ( undiluted unless mentioned otherwise ) for 5-30 minutes . As controls , other sections were similarly treated with **f or conjugated antiserum to the New York strain of potato yellow-dwarf virus ( Wolcyrz and Black , 1956 ) . The sections were then washed with PBS for 15-30 minutes and mounted in buffered glycerine . FLUORESCENCE MICROSCOPY Stained or unstained sections were examined under dark field illumination in a Zeiss fluorescence microscope equipped with a mercury vapor lamp ( Osram HBO 200 ) . The light beam from the lamp was filtered through a half-standard thickness Corning 1840 filter . In the eyepiece a Wratten 2 B filter was used to filter off residual ultra-violet light . A red filter , Zeiss barrier filter with the code ( Schott ) designation BG 23 , was also used in the ocular lens assembly as it improved the contrast between specific and nonspecific fluorescence . RESULTS SPECIFICITY OF STAINING INDIRECT METHOD . In the first few experiments **f was passed through Dowex-2-chloride twice and absorbed twice with 50-100 mg sweet clover tissue powder . The intermediate sera were also similarly absorbed with tissue powder . Sections of sweet clover stem and root tumors were treated with 1:10 solution of **f for 30 minutes , washed in buffered saline for 15 minutes , stained with **f for 30 minutes , and washed for 15 minutes in PBS . Such sections showed bright yellow-green specific fluorescence in the cells of the pseudophloem tissue ( Lee and Black , 1955 ) . This specific fluorescence was readily distinguished from the light green nonspecific fluorescence in consecutive sections stained with 1:10 dilution of NS and **f or with **f alone . Unstained sections mounted in buffered glycerine or sections treated only with NS or **f did not show such green fluorescence . Sections of crown gall tissue similarly stained with either **f and **f or NS and **f also showed only the light green nonspecific fluorescence . However , the nonspecific staining by the **f in tumor sections was considered bright enough to be confused with the staining of small amounts of WTV antigen . Two absorptions of **f with ethyl acetate or two absorptions of **f ( which had been passed through Dowex-2-chloride ) , NS and **f with crown gall tissue powder , or mouse liver powder did not further improve the specificity of staining . Treatment of all the sera with sweet clover proteins greatly reduced nonspecific fluorescence , especially when the treated conjugate was diluted to 1:2 with 0.85% saline . In all the above procedures , when the intermediate sera were diluted to 1:10 or 1:100 with 0.85% saline , the specific and nonspecific fluorescence were not appreciably reduced , whereas , a dilution of the intermediate sera to 1:500 or diluting the **f to 1:5 greatly reduced specific fluorescence . Rinsing the sections with PBS before layering the intermediate sera did not improve the staining reaction . In addition to other treatments , treating the sections with normal sheep serum for half an hour before layering **f did not reduce nonspecific staining . The only treatment by which nonspecific staining could be satisfactorily removed was by passing the conjugate through a DEAE-cellulose column . When 1 ml of conjugate was passed through a column ( **f ) , the first and second milliliter fractions collected were the most specific and gave no nonspecific staining in some experiments , and very little in others . In the latter cases an additional treatment of the DEAE-cellulose-treated **f with 50 mg of sweet clover stem tissue powder further improved the specificity . After these treatments the conjugate did not stain healthy or crown gall sweet clover tissues or stained them a very faint green which was easily distinguishable from the bright yellow-green specific staining . With this purified conjugate the best staining procedure consisted of treating the sections with 1:10 dilution of **f for 30 minutes , washing with PBS for 15 minutes , staining with **f for 30 minutes , and washing with PBS for 15 minutes . The specificity of staining in WTV tumors with **f and **f but not with NS and **f or with antiserum to potato yellow-dwarf virus and **f , and the absence of such staining in crown gall tumor tissue from sweet-clover , indicate that an antigen of WTV was being stained . DIRECT METHOD . **f was first conjugated with 50 mg of FITC per gram of globulin . This conjugate was passed twice through Dowex-2-chloride and treated with various tissue powders in the same manner as described for the indirect method . In all cases a disturbing amount of nonspecific staining was still present although it was still distinguishable from specific fluorescence . In later experiments , **f and **f were prepared by conjugating 8 mg of FITC per gram of globulin . These conjugates **f had much less nonspecific staining than the previous conjugate ( with 50 mg FITC per gram of globulin ) while the specific staining was similar in both cases . Nonspecific staining could be satisfactorily eliminated by passing these conjugates through a DEAE-cellulose column as described for **f . The best staining procedure with this purified **f consisted of staining with the conjugate for 30 minutes and washing in PBS for 15 minutes . The specificity of staining with **f was established as follows : **f specifically stained tumor sections but not sections of healthy sweet clover stems or of crown gall tumor tissue from sweet clover . Sections of tumors incited by WTV were not similarly stained with conjugated normal serum or conjugated antiserum to potato yellow-dwarf virus . After passing **f through DEAE-cellulose , the titer of antibodies to WTV in the specific fraction was 1:4 of the titer before such passage ( precipitin ring tests by R. F. Whitcomb ) ; but mere dilution of the conjugate to 1:4 did not satisfactorily remove nonspecific staining . This indicates that increase in specificity of **f after passing it through DEAE-cellulose was not merely due to dilution . Specific staining by DEAE-cellulose treated **f and **f , although clearly distinguishable under the microscope from either nonspecific staining or autofluorescence of cells , was not satisfactorily photographed to show such differences in spite of many attempts with black and white and color photography . This was chiefly because of the bluish white autofluorescence from the cells . The autofluorescence from the walls of the xylem cells was particularly brilliant . DISTRIBUTION OF VIRUS ANTIGEN Results of specific staining by the direct and the indirect methods were similar and showed the localization of WTV antigen in certain tissues of tumors . The virus antigen was concentrated in the pseudophloem tissue . Frequently a few isolated thick-walled cells or , rarely , groups of such cells in the xylem region , were also specifically stained , but there was no such staining in epidermis , cortex , most xylem cells , ray cells , or pith . Within the pseudophloem cells the distribution of WTV antigen was irregular in the cytoplasm . No antigen was detectable in certain dark spherical areas in most cells . These areas are thought to represent the nuclei . In some tumor sections small spherical bodies , possibly inclusion bodies ( Littau and Black , 1952 ) stained more intensely than the rest of cytoplasm and probably contained more antigen . In all cases studied tissues of the stem on which the tumor had developed did not contain detectable amounts of WTV antigen . DISCUSSION In both the direct and indirect methods of staining , the conjugates had nonspecifically staining fractions . In the indirect method , this was evident from the fact that tumor sections were stained light green even when stained with NS and **f or with **f only . In the direct method , **f , not further treated , stained certain tissues of healthy sweet clover stems nonspecifically and WTV tumor sections were similarly stained by comparable **f . After **f and **f were passed through Dowex-2-chloride twice and treated twice with healthy sweet clover tissue powder , nonspecific staining was greatly reduced but a disturbing amount of such staining was still present . Treatment of the conjugates with ethyl acetate , and the conjugates ( which had been passed through Dowex-2-chloride ) with mouse liver powder , sweet clover crown gall tissue powder , or healthy sweet clover proteins did not satisfactorily remove nonspecifically staining substances in the conjugates . Such treatments of the conjugates have usually been successful in eliminating nonspecific staining in several other systems ( Coons , 1958 ) . Schramm and R.ouml ; ttger ( 1959 ) did not report any such nonspecific staining of plant tissues with fluorescein isocyanate-labeled antiserum to tobacco mosaic virus . The reason for the failure of these treatments to eliminate nonspecific staining in the conjugates in our system is not known . In our work the best procedure for removing substances causing nonspecific staining in order to obtain specific conjugates was to pass the conjugates through a DEAE-cellulose column and in some cases to absorb the first and second milliliter fractions with sweet clover tissue powder . The specific staining by both direct and indirect methods showed that WTV antigen was concentrated in the pseudophloem tissue and in a few thick-walled cells in the xylem region , but was not detectable in any other tissues of the root and stem tumors . A study of the distribution of WTV antigen within the pseudophloem cells indicates that it is irregularly distributed in the cytoplasm . Wound-tumor virus is a leafhopper transmitted virus not easily transmissible by mechanical inoculation ( Black , 1944 ; Brakke et al. , 1954 ) . The concentration and apparent localization of the WTV antigen in pseudophloem tissue of the tumor may indicate that the virus preferentially multiplies in the phloem and may need to be directly placed in this tissue in order to infect plants . Since emotional reactions in the higher vertebrates depend on individual experience and are aroused in man , in addition , by complex symbols , one would expect that the hypothalamus could be excited from the cortex . In experiments with topical application of strychnine on the cerebral cortex , the transmission of impulses from the cortex to the hypothalamus was demonstrated . Moreover , the responsiveness of the hypothalamus to nociceptive stimulation is greatly increased under these conditions . Even more complex and obviously cortically induced forms of emotional arousal could be elicited in monkey A on seeing monkey B ( but not a rabbit ) in emotional stress . A previously extinguished conditioned reaction was restored in monkey A and was associated with typical signs of emotional excitement including sympathetic discharges . It seems to follow that by and large an antagonism exists between the paleo — and the neocortex as far as emotional reactivity is concerned , and that the balance between the two systems determines the emotional responsiveness of the organism . In addition , the neocortical-hypothalamic relations play a great role in primates , as Mirsky 's interesting experiment on the " communication of affect " demonstrates . But even in relatively primitive laboratory animals such as the rat , sex activity closely identified with the hypothalamus and the visceral brain is enhanced by the neocortex . MacLean stressed correctly the importance of the visceral brain for preservation of the individual and the species , as evidenced by the influence of the limbic brain ( including the hypothalamus ) on emotions related to fight and flight and also on sexual functions . It should be added that in man neocortical-hypothalamic interrelations probably play a role in the fusion of emotional processes with those underlying perception , memory , imagination , and creativity . Previous experiences are obviously of great importance for the qualitative and quantitative emotional response . The visceral brain as well as the neocortex is known to contribute to memory , but this topic is beyond the scope of this paper . /13 , . HYPOTHALAMIC BALANCE AND ITS SIGNIFICANCE After this brief discussion of neo- , paleocortical , and cortico-hypothalamic relations , let us return once more to the problem of hypothalamic balance and its physiological and pathological significance . Facilitatory processes take place between neocortex and hypothalamus via ascending and descending pathways . Thus cortico-fugal discharges induced by topical application of strychnine to a minute area in the neocortex summate with spikes present in the hypothalamus and cause increased convulsive discharges . On the other hand , the temporary reduction in hypothalamic excitability through the injection of a barbiturate into the posterior hypothalamus causes a lessening in frequency and amplitude of cortical strychnine spikes until the hypothalamic excitability is restored . Apparently , a positive feedback exists between the posterior hypothalamus and the cerebral cortex . Consequently , if for any reason the hypothalamic excitability falls below the physiological level , the lessened hypothalamic-cortical discharges lead to a diminished state of activity in the cortex with consequent reduction in the cortico-fugal discharges . Obviously , a vicious cycle develops . This tendency can be broken either by restoring hypothalamic excitability directly or via cortico-hypothalamic pathways . It is believed that drug therapy and electroshock involve the former and psychotherapy the latter mechanism . Before we comment further on these pathological conditions , we should remember that changes in the state of the hypothalamus within physiological limits distinguish sleep from wakefulness . Thus , a low intensity of hypothalamic-cortical discharges prevails in sleep and a high one during wakefulness , resulting in synchronous EEG potentials in the former and asynchrony in the latter condition . Moreover , the dominance in parasympathetic action ( with reciprocal inhibition of the sympathetic ) at the hypothalamic level induces , by its peripheral action , the autonomic symptoms of sleep and , by its action on the cortex , a lessening in the reactivity of the sensory and motor apparatus of the somatic nervous system . With the dominance of the sympathetic division of the hypothalamus , the opposite changes occur . Since electrical stimulation of the posterior hypothalamus produces the effects of wakefulness while stimulation of the anterior hypothalamus induces sleep , it may be said that the reactivity of the whole organism is altered by a change in the autonomic reactivity of the hypothalamus . Similar effects can be induced reflexly via the baroreceptor reflexes in man and animals . Of particular importance is the study of the actions of drugs in this respect . Although no drugs act exclusively on the hypothalamus or a part of it , there is sufficient specificity to distinguish drugs which shift the hypothalamic balance to the sympathetic side from those which produce a parasympathetic dominance . The former comprise analeptic and psychoactive drugs , the latter the tranquilizers . Specific differences exist in the action of different drugs belonging to the same group as , for instance , between reserpine and chlorpromazine . Important as these differences are , they should not obscure the basic fact that by shifting the hypothalamic balance sufficiently to the parasympathetic side , we produce depressions , whereas a shift in the opposite direction causes excitatory effects and , eventually , maniclike changes . The emotional states produced by drugs influence the cortical potentials in a characteristic manner ; synchrony prevails in the EEG of the experimental animal after administration of tranquilizers , but asynchrony after application of analeptic and psychoactive drugs . The shock therapies act likewise on the hypothalamic balance . Physiological experiments and clinical observations have shown that these procedures influence the hypothalamically controlled hypophyseal secretions and increase sympathetic discharges . They shift the hypothalamic balance to the sympathetic side . This explains the beneficial effect of electroshock therapy in certain depressions and a shift in the reaction from hypo — to normal reactivity of the sympathetic system as shown by the Mecholyl test . Some investigators have found a parallelism between remissions and return of the sympathetic reactivity of the hypothalamus to the normal level as indicated by the Mecholyl test and , conversely , between clinical impairment and increasing deviation of this test from the norm . Nevertheless , the theory that the determining influence of the hypothalamic balance has a profound influence on the clinical behavior of neuropsychiatric patients has not yet been tested on an adequate number of patients . The Mecholyl and noradrenalin tests applied with certain precautions are reliable indicators of this central autonomic balance , but for the sake of correlating autonomic and clinical states , and of studying the effect of certain therapeutic procedures on central autonomic reactions , additional tests seem to be desirable . It was assumed that the shift in autonomic hypothalamic balance occurring spontaneously in neuropsychiatric patients from the application of certain therapeutic procedures follows the pattern known from the sleep-wakefulness cycle . A change in the balance to the parasympathetic side leads in the normal individual to sleep or , in special circumstances , to cardiovascular collapse or nausea and vomiting . In both conditions the emotional and perceptual sensitivity is diminished , but no depression occurs such as is seen clinically or may be produced in normal persons by drugs . The fundamental differences between physiological and pathological states of parasympathetic ( and also of sympathetic ) dominance remain to be elucidated . Perhaps a clue to these and related problems lies in the fact that changes in the intensity of hypothalamic discharges which are associated with changes in its balance lead also to qualitative alterations in reactivity . A state of parasympathetic " tuning " of the hypothalamus induced experimentally causes not only an increase in the parsympathetic reactivity of this structure to direct and reflexly induced stimuli , but leads also to an autonomic reversal : a stimulus acting sympathetically under control conditions elicits in this state of tuning a parasympathetic response ! Furthermore , conditioned reactions are fundamentally altered when the hypothalamic sympathetic reactivity is augmented beyond a critical level , and several types of behavioral changes probably related to the degree of central autonomic " tuning " are observed . If , for instance , such a change is produced by one or a few insulin comas or electroshocks , previously inhibited conditioned reactions reappear . However , if these procedures are applied more often , conditioned emotional responses are temporarily abolished . In other studies , loss of differentiation in previously established conditioned reflexes resulted from repeated convulsive ( metrazol ) treatments , suggesting a fundamental disturbance in the balance between excitatory and inhibitory cerebral processes . It has further been shown that : ( 1 ) an experimental neurosis in its initial stages is associated with a reversible shift in the central autonomic balance ; ( 2 ) drugs altering the hypothalamic balance alter conditioned reactions ; ( 3 ) in a state of depression , the positive conditioned stimulus may fail to elicit a conditioned reaction but cause an increased synchrony instead of the excitatory desynchronizing ( alerting ) effect on the EEG . These are few and seemingly disjointed data , but they illustrate the important fact that fundamental alterations in conditioned reactions occur in a variety of states in which the hypothalamic balance has been altered by physiological experimentation , pharmacological action , or clinical processes . /14 , . ON THE PHYSIOLOGICAL BASIS OF SOME FORM OF PSYCHOTHERAPY The foregoing remarks imply that the hypothalamic balance plays a crucial role at the crossroads between physiological and pathological forms of emotion . If this is the case , one would expect that not only the various procedures just mentioned which alter the hypothalamic balance would influence emotional state and behavior but that emotion itself would act likewise . We pointed out that emotional excitement may lead to psychosomatic disorders and neurotic symptoms , particularly in certain types of personality , but it is also known that the reliving of a strong emotion ( " abreaction " ) may cure a battle neurosis . This phenomenon raises the question whether the guidance of the emotions for therapeutic ends may not have an even wider application in the area of the neuroses . Being a strictly physiological procedure , one may expect from such a study additional information on the nature of the emotional process itself . Wolpe 's experiments and therapeutic work lie in this area . He showed convincingly that anxiety is a learned ( conditioned ) reaction and is the basis of experimental and clinical neuroses and assumed , therefore , that the neuronal changes which underlie the neuroses are functional and reversible . An important observation of Pavlov served as a guide post to achieve such a reversibility by physiological means . In a conditioning experiment , he demonstrated the antagonism between feeding and pain . A mild electrical shock served as a conditioned stimulus and was followed by feeding . The pain became thus the symbol for food and elicited salivary secretion ( conditioned reflex ) . Even when the intensity of the shocks was increased gradually , it failed to evoke any signs of pain . Since strong nociceptive stimuli produce an experimental neurosis during which the animals fail to eat in the experimental situation , Wolpe thought that he could utilize the feeding-pain antagonism to inhibit the neurotic symptoms through feeding . Appropriate experiments showed that this is , indeed , possible . He then applied this principle of reciprocal inhibition to human neuroses . He took advantage of the antagonism between aggressive assertiveness and anxiety and found a relatively rapid disappearance of anxiety when the former attitude was established . For the interpretation of these significant investigations , it should be remembered that reciprocal relations exist in the hypothalamus with respect to autonomic and somatic functions which are closely associated with the emotions . The feeding-pain antagonism seems to be based on this reciprocal relation between the tropho — and ergotropic systems . Furthermore , a functional antagonism exists between an aggressive attitude and a state of anxiety . Although in both emotions sympathetic symptoms are present , different autonomic-somatic patterns underlie aggression and anxiety , respectively , as indicated by the rate of the excretion of the catecholamines , the state of the muscle tone , and the Mecholyl test . The psychological incompatibility of these emotional states seems to be reflected in , or based on , this marked difference . /15 , . CONCLUDING REMARKS In our attempt to interpret the emotions in their physiological and pathological range , we emphasized the importance of the degree of activity of the parasympathetic and sympathetic divisions of the hypothalamic system and their influence on the inhibitory and excitatory systems , respectively . We stressed the reciprocal relation of these systems with respect to the autonomic-somatic downward discharge as well as regarding the hypothalamic-cortical discharge . Although we are still far from a complete understanding of these problems , as a first approximation , it is suggested that alterations in the hypothalamic balance with consequent changes in the hypothalamic-cortical discharges account for major changes in behavior seen in various moods and states of emotions in man and beast under physiological circumstances , in experimental and clinical neurosis , and as the result of psychopharmacological agents . In view of the important role which emotional disturbances play in the genesis of neurotic and psychotic disorders and the parallelism observed between autonomic states and psychological behavior in several instances , it is further suggested that a hypothalamic imbalance may play an important role in initiating mental changes . 6.4 . THE PRIMARY DECOMPOSITION THEOREM We are trying to study a linear operator T on the finite-dimensional space V , by decomposing T into a direct sum of operators which are in some sense elementary . We can do this through the characteristic values and vectors of T in certain special cases , i.e. , when the minimal polynomial for T factors over the scalar field F into a product of distinct monic polynomials of degree 1 . What can we do with the general T ? If we try to study T using characteristic values , we are confronted with two problems . First , T may not have a single characteristic value ; this is really a deficiency in the scalar field , namely , that it is not algebraically closed . Second , even if the characteristic polynomial factors completely over F into a product of polynomials of degree 1 , there may not be enough characteristic vectors for T to span the space V ; this is clearly a deficiency in T. The second situation is illustrated by the operator T on **f ( F any field ) represented in the standard basis by **f . The characteristic polynomial for A is **f and this is plainly also the minimal polynomial for A ( or for T ) . Thus T is not diagonalizable . One sees that this happens because the null space of **f has dimension 1 only . On the other hand , the null space of **f and the null space of **f together span V , the former being the subspace spanned by **f and the latter the subspace spanned by **f and **f . This will be more or less our general method for the second problem . If ( remember this is an assumption ) the minimal polynomial for T decomposes **f where **f are distinct elements of F , then we shall show that the space V is the direct sum of the null spaces of **f . The diagonalizable operator is the special case of this in which **f for each i . The theorem which we prove is more general than what we have described , since it works with the primary decomposition of the minimal polynomial , whether or not the primes which enter are all of first degree . The reader will find it helpful to think of the special case when the primes are of degree 1 , and even more particularly , to think of the proof of Theorem 10 , a special case of this theorem . THEOREM 12 . ( PRIMARY DECOMPOSITION THEOREM ) . Let T be a linear operator on the finite-dimensional vector space V over the field F. Let p be the minimal polynomial for T , **f where the **f are distinct irreducible monic polynomials over F and the **f are positive integers . Let **f be the null space of **f . Then ( a ) **f ( b ) each **f is invariant under T ( c ) if **f is the operator induced on **f by T , then the minimal polynomial for **f is **f . PROOF . The idea of the proof is this . If the direct-sum decomposition ( a ) is valid , how can we get hold of the projections **f associated with the decomposition ? The projection **f will be the identity on **f and zero on the other **f . We shall find a polynomial **f such that **f is the identity on **f and is zero on the other **f , and so that **f , etc . For each i , let **f . Since **f are distinct prime polynomials , the polynomials **f are relatively prime ( Theorem 8 , Chapter 4 ) . Thus there are polynomials **f such that **f . Note also that if **f , then **f is divisible by the polynomial p , because **f contains each **f as a factor . We shall show that the polynomials **f behave in the manner described in the first paragraph of the proof . Let **f . Since **f and p divides **f for **f , we have **f . Thus the **f are projections which correspond to some direct-sum decomposition of the space V. We wish to show that the range of **f is exactly the subspace **f . It is clear that each vector in the range of **f is in **f for if a is in the range of **f , then **f and so **f because **f is divisible by the minimal polynomial p . Conversely , suppose that a is in the null space of **f . If **f , then **f is divisible by **f and so **f , i.e. , **f . But then it is immediate that **f , i.e. , that a is in the range of **f . This completes the proof of statement ( a ) . It is certainly clear that the subspaces **f are invariant under T. If **f is the operator induced on **f by T , then evidently **f , because by definition **f is 0 on the subspace **f . This shows that the minimal polynomial for **f divides **f . Conversely , let g be any polynomial such that **f . Then **f . Thus **f is divisible by the minimal polynomial p of T , i.e. , **f divides **f . It is easily seen that **f divides g . Hence the minimal polynomial for **f is **f . COROLLARY . If **f are the projections associated with the primary decomposition of T , then each **f is a polynomial in T , and accordingly if a linear operator U commutes with T then U commutes with each of the **f i.e. , each subspace **f is invariant under U. In the notation of the proof of Theorem 12 , let us take a look at the special case in which the minimal polynomial for T is a product of first-degree polynomials , i.e. , the case in which each **f is of the form **f . Now the range of **f is the null space **f of **f . Let us put **f . By Theorem 10 , D is a diagonalizable operator which we shall call the diagonalizable part of T. Let us look at the operator **f . Now **f **f so **f . The reader should be familiar enough with projections by now so that he sees that **f and in general that **f . When **f for each i , we shall have **f , because the operator **f will then be 0 on the range of **f . DEFINITION . Let N be a linear operator on the vector space V. We say that N is nilpotent if there is some positive integer r such that **f . THEOREM 13 . Let T be a linear operator on the finite-dimensional vector space V over the field F. Suppose that the minimal polynomial for T decomposes over F into a product of linear polynomials . Then there is a diagonalizable operator D on V and a nilpotent operator N on V such that ( a ) **f , ( b ) **f . The diagonalizable operator D and the nilpotent operator N are uniquely determined by ( a ) and ( b ) and each of them is a polynomial in T. PROOF . We have just observed that we can write **f where D is diagonalizable and N is nilpotent , and where D and N not only commute but are polynomials in T. Now suppose that we also have **f where D' is diagonalizable , N' is nilpotent , and **f . We shall prove that **f . Since D' and N' commute with one another and **f , we see that D' and N' commute with T. Thus D' and N' commute with any polynomial in T ; hence they commute with D and with N. Now we have **f or **f and all four of these operators commute with one another . Since D and D' are both diagonalizable and they commute , they are simultaneously diagonalizable , and **f is diagonalizable . Since N and N' are both nilpotent and they commute , the operator **f is nilpotent ; for , using the fact that N and N' commute **f and so when r is sufficiently large every term in this expression for **f will be 0 . ( Actually , a nilpotent operator on an n-dimensional space must have its nth power 0 ; if we take **f above , that will be large enough . It then follows that **f is large enough , but this is not obvious from the above expression . ) Now **f is a diagonalizable operator which is also nilpotent . Such an operator is obviously the zero operator ; for since it is nilpotent , the minimal polynomial for this operator is of the form **f for some **f ; but then since the operator is diagonalizable , the minimal polynomial can not have a repeated root ; hence **f and the minimal polynomial is simply x , which says the operator is 0 . Thus we see that **f and **f . COROLLARY . Let V be a finite-dimensional vector space over an algebraically closed field F , e.g. , the field of complex numbers . Then every linear operator T on V can be written as the sum of a diagonalizable operator D and a nilpotent operator N which commute . These operators D and N are unique and each is a polynomial in T. From these results , one sees that the study of linear operators on vector spaces over an algebraically closed field is essentially reduced to the study of nilpotent operators . For vector spaces over non-algebraically closed fields , we still need to find some substitute for characteristic values and vectors . It is a very interesting fact that these two problems can be handled simultaneously and this is what we shall do in the next chapter . In concluding this section , we should like to give an example which illustrates some of the ideas of the primary decomposition theorem . We have chosen to give it at the end of the section since it deals with differential equations and thus is not purely linear algebra . EXAMPLE 11 . In the primary decomposition theorem , it is not necessary that the vector space V be finite dimensional , nor is it necessary for parts ( a ) and ( b ) that p be the minimal polynomial for T. If T is a linear operator on an arbitrary vector space and if there is a monic polynomial p such that **f , then parts ( a ) and ( b ) of Theorem 12 are valid for T with the proof which we gave . Let n be a positive integer and let V be the space of all n times continuously differentiable functions f on the real line which satisfy the differential equation **f where **f are some fixed constants . If **f denotes the space of n times continuously differentiable functions , then the space V of solutions of this differential equation is a subspace of **f . If D denotes the differentiation operator and p is the polynomial **f then V is the null space of the operator p(D) , because **f simply says **f . Let us now regard D as a linear operator on the subspace V. Then **f . If we are discussing differentiable complex-valued functions , then **f and V are complex vector spaces , and **f may be any complex numbers . We now write **f where **f are distinct complex numbers . If **f is the null space of **f , then Theorem 12 says that **f . In other words , if f satisfies the differential equation **f , then f is uniquely expressible in the form **f where **f satisfies the differential equation **f . Thus , the study of the solutions to the equation **f is reduced to the study of the space of solutions of a differential equation of the form **f . This reduction has been accomplished by the general methods of linear algebra , i.e. , by the primary decomposition theorem . To describe the space of solutions to **f , one must know something about differential equations , that is , one must know something about D other than the fact that it is a linear operator . However , one does not need to know very much . It is very easy to establish by induction on r that if f is in **f then **f that is , **f , etc . Thus **f if and only if **f . A function g such that **f , i.e. , **f , must be a polynomial function of degree **f or less : **f . Thus f satisfies **f if and only if f has the form **f . Accordingly , the 'functions ' **f span the space of solutions of **f . Since **f are linearly independent functions and the exponential function has no zeros , these r functions **f , form a basis for the space of solutions . 7-1 . EXAMPLES OF BINOMIAL EXPERIMENTS Some experiments are composed of repetitions of independent trials , each with two possible outcomes . The binomial probability distribution may describe the variation that occurs from one set of trials of such a binomial experiment to another . We devote a chapter to the binomial distribution not only because it is a mathematical model for an enormous variety of real life phenomena , but also because it has important properties that recur in many other probability models . We begin with a few examples of binomial experiments . MARKSMANSHIP EXAMPLE . A trained marksman shooting five rounds at a target , all under practically the same conditions , may hit the bull's-eye from 0 to 5 times . In repeated sets of five shots his numbers of bull's-eyes vary . What can we say of the probabilities of the different possible numbers of bull's-eyes ? INHERITANCE IN MICE . In litters of eight mice from similar parents , the number of mice with straight instead of wavy hair is an integer from 0 to 8 . What probabilities should be attached to these possible outcomes ? ACES ( ONES ) WITH THREE DICE . When three dice are tossed repeatedly , what is the probability that the number of aces is 0 ( or 1 , or 2 , or 3 ) ? GENERAL BINOMIAL PROBLEM . More generally , suppose that an experiment consists of a number of independent trials , that each trial results in either a " success " or a " non-success " ( " failure " ) , and that the probability of success remains constant from trial to trial . In the examples above , the occurrence of a bull's-eye , a straight-haired mouse , or an ace could be called a " success " . In general , any outcome we choose may be labeled " success " . The major question in this chapter is : What is the probability of exactly x successes in n trials ? In Chapters 3 and 4 we answered questions like those in the examples , usually by counting points in a sample space . Fortunately , a general formula of wide applicability solves all problems of this kind . Before deriving this formula , we explain what we mean by " problems of this kind " . Experiments are often composed of several identical trials , and sometimes experiments themselves are repeated . In the marksmanship example , a trial consists of " one round shot at a target " with outcome either one bull's-eye ( success ) or none ( failure ) . Further , an experiment might consist of five rounds , and several sets of five rounds might be regarded as a super-experiment composed of several repetitions of the five-round experiment . If three dice are tossed , a trial is one toss of one die and the experiment is composed of three trials . Or , what amounts to the same thing , if one die is tossed three times , each toss is a trial , and the three tosses form the experiment . Mathematically , we shall not distinguish the experiment of three dice tossed once from that of one die tossed three times . These examples are illustrative of the use of the words " trial " and " experiment " as they are used in this chapter , but they are quite flexible words and it is well not to restrict them too narrowly . EXAMPLE 1 . STUDENT FOOTBALL MANAGERS . Ten students act as managers for a high-school football team , and of these managers a proportion p are licensed drivers . Each Friday one manager is chosen by lot to stay late and load the equipment on a truck . On three Fridays the coach has needed a driver . Considering only these Fridays , what is the probability that the coach had drivers all 3 times ? Exactly 2 times ? 1 time ? 0 time ? DISCUSSION . Note that there are 3 trials of interest . Each trial consists of choosing a student manager at random . The 2 possible outcomes on each trial are " driver " or " nondriver " . Since the choice is by lot each week , the outcomes of different trials are independent . The managers stay the same , so that **f is the same for all weeks . We now generalize these ideas for general binomial experiments . For an experiment to qualify as a binomial experiment , it must have four properties : ( 1 ) there must be a fixed number of trials , ( 2 ) each trial must result in a " success " or a " failure " ( a binomial trial ) , ( 3 ) all trials must have identical probabilities of success , ( 4 ) the trials must be independent of each other . Below we use our earlier examples to describe and illustrate these four properties . We also give , for each property , an example where the property is absent . The language and notation introduced are standard throughout the chapter . 1 . THERE MUST BE A FIXED NUMBER N OF REPEATED TRIALS . For the marksman , we study sets of five shots ( **f ) ; for the mice , we restrict attention to litters of eight ( **f ) ; and for the aces , we toss three dice ( **f ) . EXPERIMENT WITHOUT A FIXED NUMBER OF TRIALS . Toss a die until an ace appears . Here the number of trials is a random variable , not a fixed number . 2 . BINOMIAL TRIALS . Each of the n trials is either a success or a failure . " Success " and " failure " are just convenient labels for the two categories of outcomes when we talk about binomial trials in general . These words are more expressive than labels like " A " and " not-A " . It is natural from the marksman 's viewpoint to call a bull's-eye a success , but in the mice example it is arbitrary which category corresponds to straight hair in a mouse . The word " binomial " means " of two names " or " of two terms " , and both usages apply in our work : the first to the names of the two outcomes of a binomial trial , and the second to the terms p and **f that represent the probabilities of " success " and " failure " . Sometimes when there are many outcomes for a single trial , we group these outcomes into two classes , as in the example of the die , where we have arbitrarily constructed the classes " ace " and " not-ace " . EXPERIMENT WITHOUT THE TWO-CLASS PROPERTY . We classify mice as " straight-haired " or " wavy-haired " , but a hairless mouse appears . We can escape from such a difficulty by ruling out the animal as not constituting a trial , but such a solution is not always satisfactory . 3 . ALL TRIALS HAVE IDENTICAL PROBABILITIES OF SUCCESS . Each die has probability **f of producing an ace ; the marksman has some probability p , perhaps 0.1 , of making a bull's-eye . Note that we need not know the value of p , for the experiment to be binomial . EXPERIMENT WHERE P IS NOT CONSTANT . During a round of target practice the sun comes from behind a cloud and dazzles the marksman , lowering his chance of a bull's-eye . 4 . THE TRIALS ARE INDEPENDENT . Strictly speaking , this means that the probability for each possible outcome of the experiment can be computed by multiplying together the probabilities of the possible outcomes of the single binomial trials . Thus in the three-dice example **f , **f , and the independence assumption implies that the probability that the three dice fall ace , not-ace , ace in that order is ( 1/6 ) ( 5/6 ) ( 1/6 ) . Experimentally , we expect independence when the trials have nothing to do with one another . EXAMPLES WHERE INDEPENDENCE FAILS . A family of five plans to go together either to the beach or to the mountains , and a coin is tossed to decide . We want to know the number of people going to the mountains . When this experiment is viewed as composed of five binomial trials , one for each member of the family , the outcomes of the trials are obviously not independent . Indeed , the experiment is better viewed as consisting of one binomial trial for the entire family . The following is a less extreme example of dependence . Consider couples visiting an art museum . Each person votes for one of a pair of pictures to receive a popular prize . Voting for one picture may be called " success " , for the other " failure " . An experiment consists of the voting of one couple , or two trials . In repetitions of the experiment from couple to couple , the votes of the two persons in a couple probably agree more often than independence would imply , because couples who visit the museum together are more likely to have similar tastes than are a random pair of people drawn from the entire population of visitors . Table 7-1 illustrates the point . The table shows that 0.6 of the boys and 0.6 of the girls vote for picture A. Therefore , under independent voting , **f or 0.36 of the couples would cast two votes for picture A , and **f or 0.16 would cast two votes for picture B. Thus in independent voting , **f or 0.52 of the couples would agree . But Table 7-1 shows that **f or 0.70 agree , too many for independent voting . Each performance of an n-trial binomial experiment results in some whole number from 0 through n as the value of the random variable X , where **f . We want to study the probability function of this random variable . For example , we are interested in the number of bull's-eyes , not which shots were bull's-eyes . A binomial experiment can produce random variables other than the number of successes . For example , the marksman gets 5 shots , but we take his score to be the number of shots before his first bull's-eye , that is , 0 , 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ( or 5 , if he gets no bull's-eye ) . Thus we do not score the number of bull's-eyes , and the random variable is not the number of successes . The constancy of p and the independence are the conditions most likely to give trouble in practice . Obviously , very slight changes in p do not change the probabilities much , and a slight lack of independence may not make an appreciable difference . ( For instance , see Example 2 of Section 5-5 , on red cards in hands of 5 . ) On the other hand , even when the binomial model does not describe well the physical phenomenon being studied , the binomial model may still be used as a baseline for comparative purposes ; that is , we may discuss the phenomenon in terms of its departures from the binomial model . TO SUMMARIZE : A binomial experiment consists of **f independent binomial trials , all with the same probability **f of yielding a success . The outcome of the experiment is X successes . The random variable X takes the values **f with probabilities **f or , more briefly **f . We shall find a formula for the probability of exactly x successes for given values of p and n . When each number of successes x is paired with its probability of occurrence **f , the set of pairs **f , is a probability function called a binomial distribution . The choice of p and n determines the binomial distribution uniquely , and different choices always produce different distributions ( except when **f ; then the number of successes is always 0 ) . The set of all binomial distributions is called the family of binomial distributions , but in general discussions this expression is often shortened to " the binomial distribution " , or even " the binomial " when the context is clear . Binomial distributions were treated by James Bernoulli about 1700 , and for this reason binomial trials are sometimes called Bernoulli trials . RANDOM VARIABLES . Each binomial trial of a binomial experiment produces either 0 or 1 success . Therefore each binomial trial can be thought of as producing a value of a random variable associated with that trial and taking the values 0 and 1 , with probabilities q and p respectively . The several trials of a binomial experiment produce a new random variable X , the total number of successes , which is just the sum of the random variables associated with the single trials . EXAMPLE 2 . The marksman gets two bull's-eyes , one on his third shot and one on his fifth . The numbers of successes on the five individual shots are , then , 0 , 0 , 1 , 0 , 1 . The number of successes on each shot is a value of a random variable that has values 0 or 1 , and there are 5 such random variables here . Their sum is X , the total number of successes , which in this experiment has the value **f . Consider a simple , closed , plane curve C which is a real-analytic image of the unit circle , and which is given by **f . These are real analytic periodic functions with period T. In the following paper it is shown that in a certain definite sense , exactly an odd number of squares can be inscribed in every such curve which does not contain an infinite number of inscribed squares . This theorem is similar to the theorem of Kakutani that there exists a circumscribing cube around any closed , bounded convex set in **f . The latter theorem has been generalized by Yamabe and Yujobo , and Cairns to show that in **f there are families of such cubes . Here , for the case of squares inscribed in plane curves , we remove the restriction to convexity and give certain other results . A square inscribed in a curve C means a square with its four corner points on the curve , though it may not lie entirely in the interior of C. Indeed , the spiral **f , with the two endpoints connected by a straight line possesses only one inscribed square . The square has one corner point on the straight line segment , and does not lie entirely in the interior . On C , from the point P at **f to the point Q at **f , we construct the chord , and upon the chord as a side erect a square in such a way that as s approaches zero the square is inside C. As s increases we consider the two free corner points of the square , **f and **f , adjacent to P and Q respectively . As s approaches T the square will be outside C and therefore both **f and **f must cross C an odd number of times as s varies from zero to T. The points may also touch C without crossing . Suppose **f crosses C when **f . We now have certain squares with three corners on C. For any such square the middle corner of these will be called the vertex of the square and the corner not on the curve will be called the diagonal point of the square . Each point on C , as a vertex , may possess a finite number of corresponding diagonal points by the above construction . To each paired vertex and diagonal point there corresponds a unique forward corner point , i.e. , the corner on C reached first by proceeding along C from the vertex in the direction of increasing t . If the vertex is at **f , and if the interior of C is on the left as one moves in the direction of increasing t , then every such corner can be found from the curve obtained by rotating C clockwise through 90° about the vertex . The set of intersections of **f , the rotated curve , with the original curve C consists of just the set of forward corner points on C corresponding to the vertex at **f , plus the vertex itself . We note that two such curves C and **f , can not coincide at more than a finite number of points ; otherwise , being analytic , they would coincide at all points , which is impossible since they do not coincide near **f . With each vertex we associate certain numerical values , namely the set of positive differences in the parameter t between the vertex and its corresponding forward corner points . For the vertex at **f , these values will be denoted by **f . The function f(t) defined in this way is multi-valued . We consider now the graph of the function f(t) on **f . We will refer to the plane of C and **f as the C-plane and to the plane of the graph as the f-plane . The graph , as a set , may have a finite number of components . We will denote the values of f(t) on different components by **f . Each point with abscissa t on the graph represents an intersection between C and **f . There are two types of such intersections , depending essentially on whether the curves cross at the point of intersection . An ordinary point will be any point of intersection A such that in every neighborhood of A in the C-plane , **f meets both the interior and the exterior of C. Any other point of intersection between C and **f will be called a tangent point . This terminology will also be applied to the corresponding points in the f-plane . We can now prove several lemmas . LEMMA 1 . In some neighborhood in the f-plane of any ordinary point of the graph , the function f is a single-valued , continuous function . PROOF . We first show that the function is single-valued in some neighborhood . With the vertex at **f in the C-plane we assume that **f is the parametric location on C of an ordinary intersection Q between C and **f . In the f-plane the coordinates of the corresponding point are **f . We know that in the C-plane both C and **f are analytic . In the C-plane we construct a set of rectangular Cartesian coordinates u , v with the origin at Q and such that both C and **f have finite slope at Q. Near Q , both curves can be represented by analytic functions of u . In a neighborhood of Q the difference between these functions is also a single-valued , analytic function of u . Furthermore , one can find a neighborhood of Q in which the difference function is monotone , for since it is analytic it can have only a finite number of extrema in any interval . Now , to find **f , one needs the intersection of C and **f near Q. But **f is just the curve **f translated without rotation through a small arc , for **f is always obtained by rotating C through exactly 90° . The arc is itself a segment of an analytic curve . Thus if e is sufficiently small , there can be only one intersection of C and **f near Q , for if there were more than one intersection for every e then the difference between C and **f near Q would not be a monotone function . Therefore , **f is single-valued near Q. It is also seen that **f , since the change from **f to **f is accomplished by a continuous translation . Thus **f is also continuous at **f , and in a neighborhood of **f which does not contain a tangent point . We turn now to the set of tangent points on the graph . This set must consist of isolated points and closed intervals . The fact that there can not be any limit points of the set except in closed intervals follows from the argument used in Lemma 1 , namely , that near any tangent point in the C-plane the curves C and **f are analytic , and therefore the difference between them must be a monotone function in some neighborhood on either side of the tangent point . This prevents the occurrence of an infinite sequence of isolated tangent points . LEMMA 2 . In some neighborhood of an isolated tangent point in the f-plane , say **f , the function **f is either double-valued or has no values defined , except at the tangent point itself , where it is single-valued . PROOF . A tangent point Q in the C-plane occurs when C and **f are tangent to one another . A continuous change in t through an amount e results in a translation along an analytic arc of the curve **f . There are three possibilities : ( a ) **f remains tangent to C as it is translated ; ( b ) **f moves away from C and does not intersect it at all for **f ; ( c ) **f cuts across C and there are two ordinary intersections for every t in **f . The first possibility results in a closed interval of tangent points in the f-plane , the end points of which fall into category ( b ) or ( c ) . In the second category the function **f has no values defined in a neighborhood **f . In the third category the function is double-valued in this interval . The same remarks apply to an interval on the other side of **f . Again , the analyticity of the two curves guarantee that such intervals exist . In the neighborhood of an end point of an interval of tangent points in the f-plane the function is two-valued or no-valued on one side , and is a single-valued function consisting entirely of tangent points on the other side . With the above results we can make the following remarks about the graph of f . First , for any value of t for which all values of f(t) are ordinary points the number of values of f(t) must be odd . For it is clear that the total number of ordinary intersections of C and **f must be even ( otherwise , starting in the interior of C , **f could not finally return to the interior ) , and the center of rotation at t is the argument of the function , not a value . Therefore , for any value of t the number of values of f(t) is equal to the ( finite ) number of tangent points corresponding to the argument t plus an odd number . DEFINITION . The number of ordinary values of the function f(t) at t will be called its multiplicity at t . LEMMA 3 . The graph of f has at least one component whose support is the entire interval [ 0 , T ] . PROOF We suppose not . Then every component of the graph of f must be defined over a bounded sub-interval . Suppose **f is defined in the sub-interval **f . Now **f and **f must both be tangent points on the nth component in the f-plane ; otherwise by Lemma 1 the component would extend beyond these points . Further , we see by Lemma 2 that the multiplicity of f can only change at a tangent point , and at such a point can only change by an even integer . Thus the multiplicity of **f for a given t must be an even number . This is true of all components which have such a bounded support . But this is a contradiction , for we know that the multiplicity of f(t) is odd for every t . We have shown that the graph of f contains at least one component whose inverse is the entire interval [ 0 , T ] , and whose multiplicity is odd . There must be an odd number of such components , which will be called complete components . The remaining ( incomplete ) components all have an even number of ordinary points at any argument , and are defined only on a proper sub-interval of [ 0 , T ] . We must now show that on some component of the graph there exist two points for which the corresponding diagonal points in the C-plane are on opposite sides of C. We again consider a fixed point P at **f and a variable point Q at **f on C. We erect a square with PQ as a side and with free corners **f and **f adjacent to P and Q respectively . As s varies from zero to T , the values of s for which **f and **f cross C will be denoted by **f and **f respectively . We have **f , plus tangent points . These s-values are just the ordinary values of **f . LEMMA 4 . The values **f are the ordinary values at **f of a multi-valued function g(t) which has components corresponding to those of f(t) . PROOF . We first define a function b(t) as follows : given the set of squares such that each has three corners on C and vertex at t , b(t) is the corresponding set of positive parametric differences between t and the backward corner points . The functions f and b have exactly the same multiplicity at every argument t . Now with P fixed at **f , **f-values occur when the corner **f crosses C , and are among the values of s such that **f . The roots of this equation are just the ordinates of the intersections of the graph of b with a straight line of unit slope through **f in the b-plane ( the plane of the graph of b ) . We define these values as **f , and define g(t) in the same way for each t . Thus we obtain g(t) by introducing an oblique g(t)-axis in the b-plane . INTRODUCTION . In 1 we investigate a new series of line involutions in a projective space of three dimensions over the field of complex numbers . These are defined by a simple involutorial transformation of the points in which a general line meets a nonsingular quadric surface bearing a curve of symbol **f . Then in 2 we show that any line involution with the properties that ( a ) It has no complex of invariant lines , and ( b ) Its singular lines form a complex consisting exclusively of the lines which meet a twisted curve , is necessarily of the type discussed in 1 . No generalization of these results to spaces of more than three dimensions has so far been found possible . 1 . Let Q be a nonsingular quadric surface bearing reguli **f and **f , and let γ be a **f curve of order k on Q. A general line l meets Q in two points , **f and **f , through each of which passes a unique generator of the regulus , **f , whose lines are simple secants of γ . On these generators let **f and **f be , respectively , the harmonic conjugates of **f and **f with respect to the two points in which the corresponding generator meets γ . The line **f is the image of l . Clearly , the transformation is involutorial . We observe first that no line , l , can meet its image except at one of its intersections with Q. For if it did , the plane of l and l' would contain two generators of **f , which is impossible . Moreover , from the definitive transformation of intercepts on the generators of **f , it is clear that the only points of Q at which a line can meets its image are the points of γ . Hence the totality of singular lines is the kth order complex of lines which meet γ . The invariant lines are the lines of the congruence of secants of γ , since each of these meets Q in two points which are invariant . The order of this congruence is **f , since **f secants of a curve of symbol ( a , b ) on a quadric surface pass through an arbitrary point . The class of the congruence is **f , since an arbitrary plane meets γ in k points . Since the complex of singular lines is of order k and since there is no complex of invariant lines , it follows from the formula **f that the order of the involution is **f . There are various sets of exceptional lines , or lines whose images are not unique . The most obvious of these is the quadratic complex of tangents to Q , each line of which is transformed into the entire pencil of lines tangent to Q at the image of the point of tangency of the given line . Thus pencils of tangents to Q are transformed into pencils of tangents . It is interesting that a 1:1 correspondence can be established between the lines of two such pencils , so that in a sense a unique image can actually be assigned to each tangent . For the lines of any plane , p , meeting Q in a conic C , are transformed into the congruence of secants of the curve C' into which C is transformed in the point involution on Q. In particular , tangents to C are transformed into tangents to C' . Moreover , if **f and **f are two planes intersecting in a line l , tangent to Q at a point P , the two free intersections of the image curves **f and **f must coincide at P' , the image of P , and at this point **f and **f must have a common tangent l' . Hence , thought of as a line in a particular plane p , any tangent to Q has a unique image and moreover this image is the same for all planes through l . Each generator , l , of **f is also exceptional , for each is transformed into the entire congruence of secants of the curve into which that generator is transformed by the point involution on Q. This curve is of symbol **f since it meets l , and hence every line of **f in the **f invariant points on l and since it obviously meets every line of **f in a single point . The congruence of its secants is therefore of order **f and class **f . A final class of exceptional lines is identifiable from the following considerations : Since no two generators of **f can intersect , it follows that their image curves can have no free intersections . In other words , these curves have only fixed intersections common to them all . Now the only way in which all curves of the image family of **f can pass through a fixed point is to have a generator of **f which is not a secant but a tangent of γ , for then any point on such a generator will be transformed into the point of tangency . Since two curves of symbol **f on Q intersect in **f points , it follows that there are **f lines of **f which are tangent to γ . Clearly , any line , l , of any bundle having one of these points of tangency , T , as vertex will be transformed into the entire pencil having the image of the second intersection of l and Q as vertex and lying in the plane determined by the image point and the generator of **f which is tangent to γ at T. A line through two of these points , **f and **f , will be transformed into the entire bilinear congruence having the tangents to γ at **f and **f as directrices . A conic , C , being a ( 1 , 1 ) curve on Q , meets the image of any line of **f , which we have already found to be a **f curve on Q , in **f points . Hence its image , C' , meets any line of **f in **f points . Moreover , C' obviously meets any line **f in a single point . Hence C' is a **f curve on Q. Therefore , the congruence of its secants , that is the image of a general plane field of lines , is of order **f and class **f . Finally , the image of a general bundle of lines is a congruence whose order is the order of the congruence of invariant lines , namely **f and whose class is the order of the image congruence of a general plane field of lines , namely **f . 2 . The preceding observations make it clear that there exist line involutions of all orders greater than 1 with no complex of invariant lines and with a complex of singular lines consisting exclusively of the lines which meet a twisted curve γ . We now shall show that any involution with these characteristics is necessarily of the type we have just described . To do this we must first show that every line which meets γ in a point P meets its image at P. To see this , consider a general pencil of lines containing a general secant of γ . By ( 1 ) , the image of this pencil is a ruled surface of order **f which is met by the plane of the pencil in a curve , C , of order **f . On C there is a **f correspondence in which the **f points cut from C by a general line , l , of the pencil correspond to the point of intersection of the image of l and the plane of the pencil . Since C is rational , this correspondence has k coincidences , each of which implies a line of the pencil which meets its image . However , since the pencil contains a secant of γ it actually contains only **f singular lines . To avoid this contradiction it is necessary that C be composite , with the secant of γ and a curve of order **f as components . Thus it follows that the secants of γ are all invariant . But if this is the case , then an arbitrary pencil of lines having a point , P , of γ as vertex is transformed into a ruled surface of order **f having **f generators concurrent at P. Since a ruled surface of order n with n concurrent generators is necessarily a cone , it follows finally that every line through a point , P , of γ meets its image at P , as asserted . Now consider the transformation of the lines of a bundle with vertex , P , on γ which is effected by the involution as a whole . From the preceding remarks , it is clear that such a bundle is transformed into itself in an involutorial fashion . Moreover , in this involution there is a cone of invariant lines of order **f , namely the cone of secants of γ which pass through P. Hence it follows that the involution within the bundle must be a perspective de Jonquieres involution of order **f and the invariant locus must have a multiple line of multiplicity either **f or **f . The first possibility requires that there be a line through P which meets γ in **f points ; the second requires that there be a line through P which meets γ in **f points . In each case , lines of the bundles are transformed by involutions within the pencils they determine with the multiple secant . In the first case the fixed elements within each pencil are the multiple secant and the line joining the vertex , P , to the intersection of γ and the plane of the pencil which does not lie on the multiple secant . In the second , the fixed elements are the lines which join the vertex , P , to the two intersections of γ and the plane of the pencil which do not lie on the multiple secant . The multiple secants , of course , are exceptional and in each case are transformed into cones of order **f . Observations similar to these can be made at each point of γ . Hence γ must have either a regulus of **f-fold secants or a regulus of **f-fold secants . Moreover , if **f , no two of the multiple secants can intersect . For if such were the case , either the plane of the two lines would meet γ in more than k points or , alternatively , the order of the image regulus of the pencil determined by the two lines would be too high . But if no two lines of the regulus of multiple secants of γ can intersect , then the regulus must be quadratic , or in other words , γ must be either a **f or a **f curve on a nonsingular quadric surface . We now observe that the case in which γ is a **f curve on a quadric is impossible if the complex of singular lines consists exclusively of the lines which meet γ . For any pencil in a plane containing a **f-fold secant of γ has an image regulus which meets the plane of the pencil in **f lines , namely the images of the lines of the pencil which pass through the intersection of γ and the multiple secant , plus an additional component to account for the intersections of the images of the general lines of the pencil . However , if there is no additional complex of singular lines , the order of the image regulus of a pencil is precisely **f . This contradicts the preceding observations , and so , under the assumption of this paper we must reject the possibility that γ is a **f curve on a quadric surface . Continuing with the case in which γ is a **f curve on a quadric Q , we first observe that the second regulus of Q consists precisely of the lines which join the two free intersections of γ and the planes through any one of the multiple secants . For each of these lines meets Q in three points , namely two points on γ and one point on one of the multiple secants . Now consider an arbitrary line , l , meeting Q in two points , **f and **f . If a is the multiple secant of γ which passes through **f and b is the simple secant of γ which passes through **f , and if **f are the points in which a meets γ , and if **f is the image of **f on the generator b , it follows that the image of the line **f is **f . These societies can expect to face difficult times . As the historic processes of modernization gradually gain momentum , their cohesion will be threatened by divisive forces , the gaps between rulers and subjects , town and country , will widen ; new aspirants for power will emerge whose ambitions far exceed their competence ; old rulers may lose their nerve and their sense of direction . National leaders will have to display the highest skills of statesmanship to guide their people through times of uncertainty and confusion which destroy men 's sense of identity . Feelings of a community of interest will have to be recreated — in some of the new nations , indeed , they must be built for the first time — on a new basis which looks toward the future and does not rely only on shared memories of the past . Nevertheless , with foresight and careful planning , some of the more disruptive and dangerous consequences of social change which have troubled other countries passing through this stage can be escaped . The United States can help by communicating a genuine concern with the problems these countries face and a readiness to provide technical and other appropriate forms of assistance where possible . Our central goal should be to provide the greatest positive incentive for these societies to tackle boldly the tasks which they face . At the same time , we should recognize that the obstacles to change and the lack of cohesion and stability which characterize these countries may make them particularly prone to diversions and external adventures of all sorts . It may seem to some of them that success can be purchased much less dearly by fishing in the murky waters of international politics than by facing up to the intractable tasks at home . We should do what we can to discourage this conclusion , both by offering assistance for their domestic needs and by reacting firmly to irresponsible actions on the world scene . When necessary , we should make it clear that countries which choose to derive marginal advantages from the cold war or to exploit their potential for disrupting the security of the world will not only lose our sympathy but also risk their own prospects for orderly development . As a nation , we feel an obligation to assist other countries in their development ; but this obligation pertains only to countries which are honestly seeking to become responsible members of a stable and forward-moving world community . TRANSITIONAL SOCIETIES When we look at countries like Iran , Iraq , Pakistan , and Burma , where substantial progress has been made in creating a minimum supply of modern men and of social overhead capital , and where institutions of centralized government exist , we find a second category of countries with a different set of problems and hence different priorities for policy . The men in power are committed in principle to modernization , but economic and social changes are proceeding only erratically . Isolated enterprises have been launched , but they are not yet related to each other in a meaningful pattern . The society is likely to be characterized by having a fairly modernized urban sector and a relatively untouched rural sector , with very poor communications between the two . Progress is impeded by psychological inhibitions to effective action among those in power and by a failure on their part to understand how local resources , human and material , can be mobilized to achieve the national goals of modernization already symbolically accepted . Most countries in this second category share the difficulty of having many of the structures of a modern political and social system without the modern standards of performance required to make them effective . In these rapidly changing societies there is also too little appreciation of the need for effort to achieve goals . The colonial period has generally left people believing that government can , if it wishes , provide all manner of services for them — and that with independence free men do not have to work to realize the benefits of modern life . For example , in accordance with the fashion of the times , most transitional societies have announced economic development plans of varying numbers of years ; such is the mystique of planning that people expect that fulfillment of the plan will follow automatically upon its announcement . The civil services in such societies are generally inadequate to deal competently with the problems facing them ; and their members often equate a government career with security and status rather than with sacrifice , self-discipline , and competence . American policy should press constantly the view that until these governments demand efficiency and effectiveness of their bureaucracies there is not the slightest hope that they will either modernize of democratize their societies . We should spread the view that planning and national development are serious matters which call for effort as well as enthusiasm . Above all , we should seek to encourage the leaders of these societies to accept the unpleasant fact that they are responsible for their fates . Only within the framework of a mature relationship characterized by honest appraisals of performance can we provide telling assistance . With respect to those countries whose leaders prefer to live with their illusions , we can afford to wait , for in time their comparative lack of progress will become clear for all to see . Our technical assistance to these countries should place special emphasis on inducing the central governments to assume the role of advisor and guide which at an earlier stage foreign experts assumed in dealing with the central governments . We should encourage the governments to develop their own technical assistance to communities , state and provincial governments , rural communities , and other smaller groups , making certain that no important segment of the economy is neglected . Simultaneously we should be underlining the interrelationships of technical progress in various fields , showing how agricultural training can be introduced into education , how health affects labor productivity , how small business can benefit the rural farm community , and , above all , how progress in each field relates to national progress . Efforts such as the Community Development Program in the Philippines have demonstrated that transitional societies can work toward balanced national development . To achieve this goal of balanced development , communications between the central government and the local communities must be such that the needs and aspirations of the people themselves are effectively taken into account . If modernization programs are imposed from above , without the understanding and cooperation of the people , they will encounter grave difficulties . Land reform is likely to be a pressing issue in many of these countries . It should be American policy not only to encourage effective land reform programs but also to underline the relation of such reforms to the economic growth and modernization of the society . As an isolated policy , land reform is likely to be politically disruptive ; as part of a larger development effort , however , it may gain wide acceptance . It should also be recognized that the problem of rural tenancy can not be solved by administrative decrees alone . Land reform programs need to be supplemented with programs for promoting rural credits and technical assistance in agriculture . Lastly , governmental and private planners will at this stage begin to see large capital requirements looming ahead . By holding out prospects for external capital assistance , the United States can provide strong incentives to prepare for the concerted economic drive necessary to achieve self-sustaining growth . ACTIVELY MODERNIZING SOCIETIES At a third stage in the modernization process are such countries as India , Brazil , the Philippines , and Taiwan , which are ready and committed to move into the stage of self-sustaining growth . They must continue to satisfy basic capital needs ; and there persists the dual problem of maintaining operational unity around a national program of modernization while simultaneously decentralizing participation in the program to wider and wider groups . But these countries have made big strides toward developing the necessary human and social overhead capital ; they have established reasonably stable and effective governmental institutions at national and local levels ; and they have begun to develop a capacity to deal realistically and simultaneously with all the major sectors of their economies . On the economic front , the first priority of these countries is to mobilize a vastly increased volume of resources . Several related tasks must be carried out if self-sustaining growth is to be achieved . These countries must formulate a comprehensive , long-term program covering the objectives of both the private and the public sectors of the economy . They must in their planning be able to count on at least tentative commitments of foreign capital assistance over periods of several years . Capital imports drawn from a number of sources must be employed and combined skillfully enough to permit domestic investment programming to go forward . Capital flows must be coordinated with national needs and planning . Finally , a balance must be effected among project finance , utilization of agricultural surpluses , and general balance of payments support . Thus , although the agenda of external assistance in the economic sphere are cumulative , and many of the policies suggested for nations in the earlier stages remain relevant , the basic purpose of American economic policy during the later stages of development should be to assure that movement into a stage of self-sustaining growth is not prevented by lack of foreign exchange . There remain many political and administrative problems to be solved . For one thing , although considerable numbers of men have been trained , bureaucracies are still deficient in many respects ; even the famed Indian Civil Service is not fully adequate to the tremendous range of tasks it has undertaken . Technical assistance in training middle — and upper-level management personnel is still needed in many cases . There are also more basic problems . This is the stage at which democratic developments must take place if the society is to become an open community of creative people . Nevertheless , impulses still exist among the ruling elite to rationalize and thus to perpetuate the need for centralized and authoritarian practices . Another great danger is that the emerging middle class will feel itself increasingly alienated from the political leaders who still justify their dominance by reference to the struggle for independence or the early phase of nationalism . The capacity of intellectuals and members of the new professional classes to contribute creatively to national development is likely to be destroyed by a constraining sense of inferiority toward both their own political class and their colleagues and professional counterparts in the West . Particularly when based upon a single dominant party , governments may respond to such a situation by claiming a monopoly of understanding about the national interest . Convinced of the wisdom of their own actions , and reassured by the promises of their economic development programs , governments may fail to push outward to win more and more people to the national effort , becoming instead more rigid and inflexible in their policies . American policy toward such societies should stress our sympathy for the emerging social and professional classes . It should attempt to communicate both an appreciation of professional standards and an understanding of the tremendous powers and potentialities of genuinely open and pluralistic societies . We have every obligation to take seriously their claims to being democratic and free countries ; we also have , in consequence , the duty to appraise realistically and honestly their performance and to communicate our judgments to their leaders in frank but friendly ways . THE TIME FACTOR We have emphasized that the modernizing process in each society will take a considerable period of time . With the exception of treaty-making , foreign relations were historically concerned for the most part with conditions of short or at least measurable duration . Foreign policy now takes on a different perspective and must become skilled not merely at response but also at projection . American and free-world policies can marginally affect the pace of transition ; but basically that pace depends on changes in the supply of resources and in the human attitudes , political institutions , and social structure which each society must generate . It follows that any effective policy toward the underdeveloped countries must have a realistically long working horizon . It must be marked by a patience and persistence which have not always been its trademark . This condition affects not only the conception but also the legislative and financial support of foreign policy , especially in the context of economic aid . /2 , : SOME OF THE MAJOR FUNCTIONS OF RELIGION The place of religion in the simple , preliterate societies is quite definite ; as a complex it fits into the whole social organization and functions dominantly in every part of it . In societies like ours , however , its place is less clear and more complex . With the diversity of religious viewpoints , there are differences of opinion as to the essential features of religion ; and there are different opinions as to the essential functions of religion . Nevertheless , for most of the population of heterogeneous advanced societies , though less for the less religious portion , religion does perform certain modal individual and social functions . Although the inner functions of religion are not of direct significance in social organization , they have important indirect consequences . If the inner functions of religion are performed , the individual is a composed , ordered , motivated , and emotionally secure associate ; he is not greatly frustrated , and he is not anomic ; he is better fitted to perform his social life among his fellows . There are several closely related inner functions . In the last analysis , religion is the means of inducing , formulating , expressing , enhancing , implementing , and perpetuating man 's deepest experience — the religious . Man is first religious ; the instrumentalities follow . Religion seeks to satisfy human needs of great pertinence . The significant things in it , at the higher religious levels , are the inner emotional , mental , and spiritual occurrences that fill the pressing human needs of self-preservation , self-pacification , and self-completion . The chief experience is the sensing of communion , and in the higher religions , of a harmonious relationship with the supernatural power . Related to this is the fact that most of the higher religions define for the individual his place in the universe and give him a feeling that he is relatively secure in an ordered , dependable universe . Man has the experience of being helpfully allied with what he can not fully understand ; he is a coordinate part of all of the mysterious energy and being and movement . The universe is a safe and permanent home . A number of religions also satisfy for many the need of being linked with the ultimate and eternal . Death is not permanent defeat and disappearance ; man has a second chance . He is not lost in the abyss of endless time ; he has endless being . Religion at its best also offers the experience of spiritual fulfillment by inviting man into the highest realm of the spirit . Religion can summate , epitomize , relate , and conserve all the highest ideals and values — ethical , aesthetic , and religious — of man formed in his culture . There is also the possibility , among higher religions , of experiencing consistent meaning in life and enjoying guidance and expansiveness . The kind of religious experience that most moderns seek not only provides , clarifies , and relates human yearnings , values , ideals , and purposes ; it also provides facilities and incitements for the development of personality , sociality , and creativeness . Under the religious impulse , whether theistic or humanistic , men have joy in living ; life leads somewhere . Religion at its best is out in front , ever beckoning and leading on , and , as Lippman put it , " mobilizing all man 's scattered energies in one triumphant sense of his own infinite importance " . At the same time that religion binds the individual helpfully to the supernatural and gives him cosmic peace and a sense of supreme fulfillment , it also has great therapeutic value for him . It gives him aid , comfort , even solace , in meeting mundane life situations where his own unassisted practical knowledge and skill are felt by him to be inadequate . He is confronted with the recurrent crises , such as great natural catastrophes and the great transitions of life — marriage , incurable disease , widowhood , old age , the certainty of death . He has to cope with frustration and other emotional disturbance and anomie . His religious beliefs provide him with plausible explanations for many conditions which cause him great concern , and his religious faith makes possible fortitude , equanimity , and consolation , enabling him to endure colossal misfortune , fear , frustration , uncertainty , suffering , evil , and danger . Religion usually also includes a principle of compensation , mainly in a promised perfect future state . The belief in immortality , where held , functions as a redress for the ills and disappointments of the here and now . The tensions accompanying a repressive consciousness of wrongdoing or sinning or some tormenting secret are relieved for the less self-contained or self-sufficient by confession , repentance , and penance . The feeling of individual inferiority , defeat , or humilation growing out of various social situations or individual deficiencies or failures is compensated for by communion in worship or prayer with a friendly , but all-victorious Father-God , as well as by sympathetic fellowship with others who share this faith , and by opportunities in religious acts for giving vent to emotions and energies . In providing for these inner individual functions , religion undertakes in behalf of individual peace of mind and well-being services for which there is no other institution . In addition to the functions of religion within man , there have always been the outer social functions for the community and society . The two have never been separable . Religion is vitally necessary in both societal maintenance and regulation . The value-system of a community or society is always correlated with , and to a degree dependent upon , a more or less shared system of religious beliefs and convictions . The religion supports , re-enforces , reaffirms , and maintains the fundamental values . Even in the united states , with its freedom of religious belief and worship and its vast denominational differentiation , there is a general consensus regarding the basic Christian values . This is demonstrated especially when there is awareness of radically different value orientation elsewhere ; for example Americans rally to Christian values vis-a-vis those of atheistic communism . In America also all of our major religious bodies officially sanction a universalistic ethic which is reflective of our common religion . Even the non-church members — the freewheelers , marginal religionists and so on — have the values of Christian civilization internalized in them . Furthermore , religion tends to integrate the whole range of values from the highest or ultimate values of God to the intermediary and subordinate values ; for example , those regarding material objects and pragmatic ends . Finally , it gives sanctity , more than human legitimacy , and even , through super-empirical reference , transcendent and supernatural importance to some values ; for example , marriage as a sacrament , much law-breaking as sinful , occasionally the state as a divine instrument . It places certain values at least beyond questioning and tampering . Closely related to this function is the fact that the religious system provides a body of ultimate ends for the society , which are compatible with the supreme eternal ends . This something leads to a conception of an over-all Social Plan with a meaning interpretable in terms of ultimate ends ; for example , a plan that fulfills the will of God , which advances the Kingdom of God , which involves social life as part of the Grand Design . This explains some group ends and provides a justification of their primacy . It gives social guidance and direction and makes for programs of social action . Finally , it gives meaning to much social endeavor , and logic , consistency , and meaning to life . In general , there is no society so secularized as to be completely without religiously inspired transcendental ends . Religion integrates and unifies . Some of the oldest , most persistent , and most cohesive forms of social groupings have grown out of religion . These groups have varied widely from mere families , primitive , totemic groups , and small modern cults and sects , to the memberships of great denominations , and great , widely dispersed world religions . Religion fosters group life in various ways . The common ultimate values , ends and goals fostered by religion are a most important factor . Without a system of values there can be no society . Where such a value system prevails , it always unifies all who possess it ; it enables members of the society to operate as a system . The beliefs of a religion also reflecting the values are expressed in creeds , dogmas , and doctrines , and form what Durkheim calls a credo . As he points out , a religious group can not exist without a collective credo , and the more extensive the credo , the more unified and strong is the group . The credo unifies and socializes men by attaching them completely to an identical body of doctrine ; the more extensive and firm the body of doctrine , the firmer the group . The religious symbolism , and especially the closely related rites and worship forms , constitute a powerful bond for the members of the particular faith . The religion , in fact , is an expression of the unity of the group , small or large . The common codes , for religious action as such and in their ethical aspects for everyday moral behavior , bind the devotees together . These are ways of jointly participating in significantly symbolized , standardized , and ordered religiously sanctified behavior . The codes are mechanism for training in , and directing and enforcing , uniform social interaction , and for continually and publicly reasserting the solidarity of the group . Durkheim noted long ago that religion as " … a unified system of beliefs and practices relative to sacred things … unite[s] into one single moral community … all those who adhere to them " . His view is that every religion pertains to a community , and , conversely , every community is in one aspect a religious unit . This is brought out in the common religious ethos that prevails even in the denominationally diverse audiences at many secular semi-public and public occasions in the United States ; and it is evidenced in the prayers offered , in the frequent religious allusions , and in the confirmation of points on religious grounds . The unifying effect of religion is also brought out in the fact that historically peoples have clung together as more or less cohesive cultural units , with religion as the dominant bond , even though spatially dispersed and not politically organized . The Jews for 2500 years have been a prime example , though the adherents of any world or interpeople religion are cases in point . it might be pointed out that the integrating function of religion , for good or ill , has often supported or been identified with other groupings — political , nationality , language , class , racial , sociability , even economic . Religion usually exercises a stabilizing-conserving function . As such it acts as an anchor for the people . There is a marked tendency for religions , once firmly established , to resist change , not only in their own doctrines and policies and practices , but also in secular affairs having religious relevance . It has thus been a significant factor in the conservation of social values , though also in some measure , an obstacle to the creation or diffusion of new ones . It tends to support the longstanding precious sentiments , the traditional ways of thinking , and the customary ways of living . As Yinger has pointed out , the " … reliance on symbols , on tradition , on sacred writings , on the cultivation of emotional feelings of identity and harmony with sacred values , turns one to the past far more than to the future " . Historically , religion has also functioned as a tremendous engine of vindication , enforcement , sanction , and perpetuation of various other institutions . At the same time that religion exercises a conserving influence , it also energizes and motivates both individuals and groups . Much of the important individual and social action has been owing to religious incentives . The great ultimate ends of religion have served as magnificent beacon lights that lured people toward them with an almost irresistible force , mobilizing energies and inducing sacrifices ; for example , the Crusades , mission efforts , just wars . Much effort has been expended in the sincere effort to apply the teaching and admonitions of religion . The insuperable reward systems that most religions embody have great motivating effects . Religion provides the most attractive rewards , either in this world or the next , for those who not merely abide by its norms , but who engage in good works . Religion usually acts as a powerful aid in social control , enforcing what men should or should not do . Among primitive peoples the sanctions and dictates of religion were more binding than any of the other controls exercised by the group ; and in modern societies such influence is still great . Religion has its own supernatural prescriptions that are at the same time codes of behavior for the here and now . Overwhelmed with the care of five young children and concerned about persistent economic difficulties due to her husband 's marginal income , her defense of denial was excessively strong . Thus the lack of effective recognition of the responsibilities involved in caring for two babies showed signs of becoming a disabling problem . The result , dramatically visible in a matter of days in the family 's disrupted daily functioning , was a phobic-like fear that some terrible harm would befall the second twin , whose birth had not been anticipated . Soon Mrs. B. 's fears threatened to burst into a full-blown panic concerning the welfare of the entire family . Inability to care for the other children , difficulty in feeding the babies , who seemed colicky , bone-weary fatigue , repeated crying episodes , and short tempers reflected the family 's helplessness in coping with the stressful situation . Clearly , this was a family in crisis . Mrs. B. compared her feelings of weakness to her feelings of weakness and helplessness at the time of her mother 's death when she was eight , as well as her subsequent anger at her father for remarrying . Her previous traumatic experiences flashed through her mind as if they had happened yesterday . On the anniversary of her father 's death she poured out with agonized tears her feelings of guilt about not having attended his funeral . In the family 's own words ( during the third of twelve visits ) , they had " reached the crisis peak — either the situation will give or we will break " ! Direct confrontation and acceptance of Mrs. B. 's anger against the second baby soon dissipated her fears of annihilation . Abreaction of her anxiety and guilt concerning the death of her parents , when linked up with her current feelings of anger and her fears of loss , abandonment , and annihilation , produced further relief of tension . In a joint interview Mr. and Mrs. B. were helped to understand the meaning of a younger son 's wandering away from home in terms of his feelings of displacement in reaction to the arrival of the twins . The father , accurately perceiving the child 's needs , not only respected them as worthy of his attention , but immediately satisfied them by taking him on his lap along with the twins , saying , " I have a big lap ; there is room for you , too , Johnnie " . Simultaneously , a variety of environmental supports — a calm but not too motherly homemaker , referral for temporary economic aid , intelligent use of nursing care , accompaniment to the well-baby clinic for medical advice on the twins ' feeding problem — combined to prevent further development of predictable pathological mechanisms . Follow-up visits of the nurse and social worker indicated continued success in the care of the new babies as well as a marked improvement in the family 's day-to-day mental health and social functioning . As seen in the B. family , there must be an attempt to help the client develop conscious awareness of the problem , especially in the absence of a formal request for assistance . The lack of awareness usually springs from deep but disguised anxiety , often assuming the superficial guise of " not knowing " or " not caring " . The unhealthy use of denial in the initial reaction to a stress must be handled through the medium of a positive controlled transference . In general , the approach is more active than passive , more out-reaching than reflective . While some regression is inevitable , it is discouraged rather than encouraged so that the transference does not follow the stages of planned regression associated with certain casework adaptations of the psychoanalytic model for insight therapy . To establish an emotionally meaningful relationship the worker must demonstrate actual or potential helpfulness immediately , preferably within the first interview , by meeting the client 's specific needs . These needs usually concern the reduction of guilt and some relief of tension . The initial interview must be therapeutic rather than purely exploratory in an information-seekingsense . In this relationship-building stage the worker must communicate confidence in the client 's ability to deal with the problem . In so doing he implicitly offers the positive contagion of hope as a kind of maturational dynamic to counteract feelings of helplessness and hopelessness generally associated with the first stages of stress impact . Thus , the client receives enough ego support to engage in constructive efforts on his own behalf . Here there is a specific preventive component which applies in a more generalized sense to any casework situation . We are preventing or averting pathogenic phenomena such as undue regression , unhealthy suppression and repression , excessive use of denial , and crippling guilt turned against the self . While some suppression and some denial are not only necessary but healthy , the worker 's clinical knowledge must determine how these defenses are being used , what healthy shifts in defensive adaptation are indicated , and when efforts at bringing about change can be most effectively timed . In steering the family toward ego-adaptive and away from maladaptive responses , the worker uses time-honored focused casework techniques of specific emotional support , clarification , and anticipatory guidance . Over a relatively short period of time , usually about four to twelve weeks , the worker must be able to shift the focus , back and forth , between immediate external stressful exigencies ( " precipitating stress " ) and the key , emotionally relevant issues ( " underlying problem " ) which are , often in a dramatic preconscious breakthrough , reactivated by the crisis situation , and hence once again amenable to resolution . Though there is obviously nothing new about these techniques , they do challenge the worker 's skill to articulate them precisely on the spot and on the basis of quick and accurate diagnostic assessments . Then , too , the utmost clinical flexibility is necessary in judiciously combining carefully timed family-oriented home visits , single and group office interviews , and appropriate telephone follow-up calls , if the worker is to be genuinely accessible and if the predicted unhealthy outcome is to be actually averted in accordance with the principles of preventive intervention . In addition , in many cases , a variety of concrete social resources — homemaker , day care , medical and financial aid — must be reasonably available for the reality support needed to bolster the family in its individual and collective coping and integrative efforts . At certain critical stages , and only for sound diagnostic reasons , it may be important to accompany family members in their use of these resources if their problem-solving behavior is to be constructive rather than defeating . While expensive in time and involving a great deal of adaptation on the part of the worker ( in terms of his willingness to leave the sanctity of his office and enter actively into the client 's life ) , techniques of accompaniment were found to be of tremendous value when in the service of specific preventive objectives . Finally , whatever the techniques used , a twin goal is common to all preventive casework service : to cushion or reduce the force of the stress impact while at the same time to encourage and support family members to mobilize and use their ego capacities . Having outlined an approach to the theory and practice of preventive casework , we now address ourselves to our final question : What place should brief , crisis-oriented preventive casework occupy in our total spectrum of services ? We should first recognize our tendency to develop a hierarchy of values , locating brief treatment at the bottom and long-term intensive service at the top , instead of seeing the services as part of a continuum , each important in its own right . This problem is perhaps as old as social casework itself . Almost three decades ago Bertha Reynolds undertook a study of short-contact interviewing because of her conviction that short-term casework had an important but neglected place in our network of social services . Her conclusion has been borne out in the experience of many practitioners : " … short-contact interviewing is neither a truncated nor a telescoped experience but is of the same essential quality as the so-called intensive case work " . Thus , casework involving a limited number of interviews is still to be regarded in terms of the quality of service rendered rather than of the quantity of time expended . That we are experiencing an upsurge of interest in the many formulations and preventive adaptations of brief treatment in social casework is evident from even a small sampling of current literature . Especially noteworthy is Levinger 's finding that the length of treatment per se is not a reliable indicator of successful outcome . According to a number of studies , the important predictors are the nature and management of the client 's anxiety as well as the accessibility of the helping person . For example , the level of improvement noted in a recent experiment with a short course of immediate treatment for parent-child relationship problems compared favorably with the results reported by typical child guidance clinics where the hours spent in purely diagnostic study may equal or exceed the number of hours devoted to actual treatment interviews in the experimental project . Of startling significance , too , is the assertion that it was possible to carry out this program with only a 6 percent attrition rate as compared with a rate of 59 percent reported for a comparable group of families who were receiving help in traditionally operated child guidance services . These reports refer to a level of secondary prevention in a child guidance clinic approached by the customary route of voluntary referral by the family or by other professional people . Similarities to the approach which I have described are evident in the prompt establishment of a helping relationship , quick appraisal of key issues , and the immediate mobilization of treatment plans as the essential dynamics in helping to further the ego 's coping efforts in dealing with the interplay of inner and outer stresses . While there are many different possibilities for the timing of casework intervention , the experiments recently reported from a variety of traditional settings all point up the importance of an immediate response to the client 's initial need for help . In some programs , treatment is concentrated over a short period of time , while in others , after the initial contact is established , flexible spacing of interviews has been experimentally used with apparent success . Willingness to take the risk of early and direct interpretation ( with the proviso that if the interpretation is too threatening , the worker can withdraw ) is another prominent feature in these efforts . My aim in mentioning this factor obviously is not to give license to " wild therapy " but rather to encourage us to use the time-honored clinical casework skills we already possess , and to use them with greater confidence , precision , and professional pride . Though there is obviously great need for continued experimentation with various types of short-term intervention to further efforts in developing an operational definition of prevention at the secondary — or perhaps , in some instances , primary — level , the place of short-term intervention has already been documented by a number of investigators in a wide variety of settings . Woodward , for example , has emphasized the " need for a broad spectrum of services , including very brief services in connection with critical situations " . Ideally , brief treatment should be arrived at as a treatment of choice rather than as a treatment of chance . Moreover , the shortage of treatment resources and the chronically persistent shortage of mental health manpower force us to innovate additional refinements of preventive intervention techniques to make services more widely available — and on a more effective basis to more people . Further research in the meaning of crises as experienced by the consumers of traditional social casework services — including attempts to develop a typology of family structures , crisis problems , reaction mechanisms , and differential treatment approaches — and the establishment of new experimental programs are imperative social needs which should command the best efforts of caseworkers in collaboration with community planners . our literature is already replete with a fantastic number of suggestions for preventive agency programming ranging from the immediately practical to the globally utopian . Probably , in the immediate future , we will have to settle for middle-range efforts that fall short of utopian models . Increased experimentation with multipurpose agencies , especially those that combine afresh the traditional functions of family and child welfare services , holds rich promise for the future . For example , child welfare experience abounds with cases in which the parental request for substitute care is precipitated by a crisis event which is meaningfully linked with a fundamental unresolved problem of family relationships . SENTIMENT : Tension management and communication of sentiment are the processes involved in the functioning of the element of sentiment or feeling . One of the devices for tension management is preferential mating . The preferential mating of this particular population has been analyzed in a separate study . The relative geographical isolation of the Brandywine population makes for a limited choice in mating . It would seem necessary that members of this population provide support for one another since it is not provided by the larger society . The supportive relations can apparently be achieved in geographical and social isolation . The newlyweds building homes on the same land with either set of parents , and the almost exclusive use of members of the population as sponsors for baptisms and weddings illustrate this supportive relationship . As Loomis remarks , " In the internal pattern the chief reason for interacting is to communicate liking , friendship , and love among those who stand in supporting relations to one another and corresponding negative sentiments to those who stand in antagonistic relations " . ACHIEVING : Maintenance of the status quo might seem to be the appropriate goal or objective of this population today . Yet , the object of the element of achieving through the process of goal attaining for this population appears to have been changed by circumstances brought about by the war . Prior to World War /2 , there was a higher percentage of endogamous marriages than after World war /2 , . NORMS : The norms , as elements , refer to " all criteria for judging the character or conduct of both individual and group actions in any social system " . The process of evaluation assigns varying positive and negative priorities or values to elements . The elements and processes become evident in a study of mate selection in this population . From the evidence " it may be conjectured that core-core marriages are the preferred unions for core males and females ; core-marginal marriages still belong in the category of permissive unions ; and core-Negro marriages are proscribed for core members " . STATUS-ROLES : The element of status-roles and associated processes have not been sufficiently investigated for this population to permit any type of conjectures about them . POWER : There is some indication from a limited number of interviews with members of the population that the element of power , primarily the voluntary influence of non-authoritative power , has been exerted on actors in the system , particularly in regard to mate selection . This would seem to vary from family to family , depending somewhat on the core or marginal " status " of that family . Again , size of the group may have some influence on the strength of group controls . RANKING : Interviews with members of the Brandywine population were attempted in order to discover the ranking of the various families in the population . The large majority of the interviewees placed core families in the upper positions . Loomis considers ranking a product of the evaluation process . " The standing or rank of an actor in a given social system is determined by the evaluation placed upon the actor and his acts in accordance with the norms and standards of the system " . Despite the increasing rate of exogamous marriages , the population has been able to sustain , at least to some degree , the consciousness of its intermediate status in society . To some extent the system can be considered a Gemeinschaft in which " social-role occupancies are determined by birth , by attributes such as sex or caste , which are biologically or socially immutable " . The adherence of many in the population to the Indian background in their pedigree , and emphasis upon the fact that their ancestors had never been slaves , becomes of prime interest in determining how far these elements promote the self-image of the intermediate status of the group in society . SANCTIONS : The negative sanctions applied to core-Negro marriages for core members act as indicators of expected adherence to group norms . However , because of Church laws , lately more stringently enforced , which forbid the marriage of cousins closely related consanguineously , a means of facilitating the goal of in-group relations may be that of recourse to illegitimate unions . A cursory survey of available material indicates a high rate of illegitimate births occurring to parents who have a close consanguineous relationship . SUBSYSTEMS The comprehensive or master processes activate all or some of the elements within the social system and subsystems . Within the larger social system are the structural and functional subsystems . The structural subsystem , consisting of relatively stable inter-relationships among its parts , includes : 1 . Subgroups of various types , interconnected by relational norms . 2 . Roles of various types , within the larger system and within the subgroups … 3 . Regulative norms governing subgroups and roles . 4 . Cultural values . In the study of marriage patterns for this group , consanguinity produces the structural system — a system of affinities — which , in turn , maintains the system of consanguinity . Subgroups of various types have been found within this system . Each family line can be considered a substructure . There seems to be an implied cultural value attached to the fact of core status within the group . Additionally , the proscription of core-Negro marriages for core families , discussed above , would seem to act as a regulative norm governing subgroups and roles . The scope of this study does not provide for the study of roles of various types within the larger system or within the subgroups . However , it can not be presumed , informal though the structure of the population seems , that there are not well-defined roles within the system . The present study relates to the theory of functional systems . It is hypothesized that fertility is a function of the social system when the population as a whole is considered and a function of the subsystems when the two-fold division of core families and marginal families is considered . The four functional problems of a social system are , to some extent , solved by the subsystems within this population . By means of geographical isolation and high fertility rates , inbreeding can be fostered and the pattern of isolation from the greater society maintained . In order to attain the goal of group solidarity and to relieve tension , the high fertility rate provides more group members for mate selection , and the clustering of members in groups fosters acceptance of group controls . To maintain their intermediate position in the larger society , it is not only necessary that members of this population be " visible " , but that their numbers be great enough to be recognized as a separate , distinct grouping or system in society . As mentioned above , where families are concentrated in larger numbers , group controls seem strongest and most effective . Adaptation to the social and non-social environment through the economy has been met to a degree through a type of occupational segregation . This provides the necessary contact with the larger society , while supporting a type of control over members in terms of social contacts . Integration " has to do with the inter-relation of parts " . The problem of solidarity and morale again involves the concept of values . The values placed by the Brandywine population , upon maintaining a certain homogeneity , a certain separate racial identity , and therefore a certain separate social status , are important for the morale of the system . Since morale is closely related to pattern maintenance and integration , the higher the morale and solidarity , the better the system can solve the problems of the system . In this respect it would seem that the greater the social distance between the Brandywine population and the white and Negro populations within the same general locality , the greater the possibility for higher morale and solidarity within the Brandywine population . It is conceived that one of the means to attain this social distance is that of physical and social isolation . In turn , higher fertility rates for this population provide a means of increasing the numerical quantity of the population , allowing for the possibility of greater stability and unity . The population can thereby replenish itself and actually grow larger . MASTER PROCESSES Of particular utility in the analysis of the development , persistence , and change of social systems has been the use of the master or comprehensive processes . Loomis considers six such processes in his paradigm . 1 . Communication 2 . Boundary maintenance 3 . Systemic linkage 4 . Socialization 5 . Social control 6 . Institutionalization Though undoubtedly all six processes are operative within the whole social system and its subsystems , two processes that are of crucial importance to this study will be singled out for particular emphasis : COMMUNICATION : In discussing the process of communication , Loomis defines it as " the process by which information , decisions , and directives are transmitted among actors and the ways in which knowledge , opinions , and attitudes are formed , or modified by interaction " . Communication may be facilitated by means of the high visibility within the larger community . Intense interaction is easier where segregated living and occupational segregation mark off a group from the rest of the community , as in the case of this population . However , the factor of physical isolation is not a static situation . Although the Brandywine population is still predominantly rural , " there are indications of a consistent and a statistically significant trend away from the older and relatively isolated rural communities … urbanization appears to be an important factor in the disintegration of this group . This conclusion is , however , an over-simplification . A more realistic analysis must take into account the fact that Brandywine people in the urban-fringe area are , in general , less segregated locally than group members in rural areas . In the urban area , in other words , they , unlike some urban ethnic groups , do not concentrate in ghetto colonies . Group pressures toward conformity are slight or non-existent , and deviant behavior in mate selection incurs few if any social sanctions . In such a setting social contacts and associations are likely to be heterogamous , resulting in a change of values and almost necessarily , in mate selection behavior . To the extent that urban life contributes to the breakdown of the group patterns of residential isolation , to that extent it contributes directly to increased exogamy " . SOCIAL CONTROL : The process of social control is operative insofar as sanctions play a part in the individual 's behavior , as well as the group 's behavior . By means of this social control , deviance is either eliminated or somehow made compatible with the function of the social group . Examples from this population indicate that deviance seems to be sanctioned by ostracism from the group . SOCIALIZATION : There is an oral tradition among the members of the population in regard to the origin and subsequent separate status of the group in the larger society . Confused and divided though this tradition may be , it is an important part of the social and cultural heritage of the group , and acts as a means of socialization , particularly for members of the rural community . The fact of Indian ancestry and " free " status during the days of slavery , are important distinctions made by members of the group . BOUNDARY MAINTENANCE : " Culturally induced social cohesion resulting from common norms and values internalized by members of the group " is operative in the boundary maintenance of the group as well as in the process of socialization . The process of boundary maintenance identifies and preserves the social system or subsystems , and the characteristic interaction is maintained . As the threat of encroachment on the system increases , the " probability of applied boundary maintenance mechanisms increases " . The fertility rate pattern would seem to be a function , though a latent one , of the process of maintaining the boundary . " Increased boundary maintenance may be achieved , for example , by assigning a higher primacy or evaluation to activities characteristic of the external pattern … " The external pattern or external system can be considered as " group behavior that enables the group to survive in its environment … " Boundary maintenance for this group would seem to be primarily social , as is the preference for endogamy . It is also expressed in the proscription against deviants in the matter of endogamy , particularly in rural areas . By their pattern of endogamy and exogamy , the core families and the marginal families show distinct limits to the intergroup contact they maintain . SYSTEMIC LINKAGE : Where boundary maintenance describes the boundaries or limits of the group , systemic linkage is defined " as the process whereby one or more of the elements of at least two social systems is articulated in such a manner that the two systems in some ways and on some occasions may be viewed as a single unit . A royal decree issued in 1910 , two years after the Belgian government assumed authority for the administration of the Congo , prescribed the registration of all adult males by chiefdoms . Further decrees along this line were issued in 1916 and 1919 . In 1922 a continuous registration of the whole indigenous population was instituted by ordinance of the Governor-General , and the periodic compilation of these records was ordered . But specific procedures for carrying out this plan were left to the discretion of the provincial governors . A unified set of regulations , applicable to all areas , was issued in 1929 , and a complementary series of demographic inquiries in selected areas was instituted at the same time . The whole system was again reviewed and reorganized in 1933 . General responsibility for its administration rested with a division of the colonial government concerned with labor supply and native affairs , Service des Affaires Indigenes et de la Main-d'Oeuvre ( AIMO , **f Direction , **f Direction Generale , Gouvernement Generale ) . Tribal authorities , the chiefs and their secretaries , were held responsible for maintaining the registers of indigenous persons within their territories , under the general supervision of district officials . The district officials , along with their other duties , were obliged to organize special demographic inquiries in selected areas and to supervise the annual tabulations of demographic statistics . The regulations require the inscription of each individual ( male or female , adult or child ) on a separate card ( fiche ) . The cards , filed by circonscription ( sub-chiefdom , or village ) , are kept in the headquarters of each territoire ( chiefdom ) . Each card is expected to show certain information about the individual concerned , including his or her date of birth ( or age at a specified time ) , spouses , and children . Additional entries must be made from time to time . Different cards are used for males and females , and a corner is clipped from the cards of adults , and of children when they reach puberty . So a quick count could be made at any time , even by an illiterate clerk , of the number of registered persons in four age-and-sex classes . Personal identification cards are issued to all adult males on which tax payments , inoculations , periods of employment , and changes of residence are recorded . Similar identification cards were issued in 1959 to all adult females . Each adult is held personally responsible for assuring his inscription and obtaining an identification card which must be shown on demand . The registration card of a person leaving his home territory for a short period is put into a special file for absent persons . The cards of permanent out-migrants are , in theory , sent to an office in the place of new residence . Finally , the registration of births and deaths by nearest relatives was made compulsory in most regions . Numbers of registered persons in four age-and-sex classes were counted each year . In addition , demographic inquiries , supposedly involving field investigations , were conducted in selected minor divisions ( circonscriptions ) containing about 3 percent of the total population . The results of these inquiries were used to adjust compilations of data from the registers and to provide various ratios and rates by districts , including birth and death rates , general fertility rates , distributions by marital status , fertility of wives separately in polygynous and non-polygynous households , infant mortality , and migration . The areas to be examined in these inquiries were selected by local officials , supposedly as representative of a larger population . Averages of the ratios obtained in a few selected areas were applied to the larger population . The scheme , in theory , is an ingenious adaptation of European registration systems to the conditions of African life . But it places a severe strain on the administrative resources ( already burdened in other ways ) of a widely dispersed , poor and largely illiterate population . The sampling program was instituted before the principles of probability sampling were widely recognized in population studies . The system was not well adapted to conditions of life in urban centers . The distinction between domiciled ( de jure ) and present ( de facto ) population was not clearly defined . So the results are subject to considerable confusion . The system tended to break down during the war , but was reactivated ; it had reached the pre-war level of efficiency by 1951 . In spite of the defects in this system , the figures on total population during the late 1930 's and again in the early 1950 's seem to have represented actual conditions in most districts with approximate fidelity . But the information on the dynamics of population was often quite misleading . The same system , with minor modifications , was developed in Ruanda-Urundi under Belgian administration . Here again it seems that useful approximations of the size and geographical distribution of the population were obtained in this way in the late pre-war and early post-war periods . Before considering more recent activities , we should note another important aspect of demography in Belgian Africa . A number of strong independent agencies , established in some cases with governmental or royal support , have conducted large medical , social , educational and research operations in particular parts of the Congo and Ruanda-Urundi . The work of Fonds Reine Elisabeth pour l'Assistance Medicale aux Indigenes du Congo Belge ( FOREAMI ) has special interest with respect to demography . This agency accepted responsibility for medical services to a population ranging from 638,560 persons in 1941 to 840,503 in 1956 in the Kwango District and adjacent areas east of Leopoldville . Each year from 1941 on , its medical staff had conducted intensive field investigations to determine changes in population structure and vital rates and , as its primary objective , the incidence of major diseases . Its findings are reported each year in its Rapport sur l'activite pendant annee … ( Bruxelles ) . Somewhat similar investigations have been made by medical officers in other areas . Other independent , or partially independent agencies , have promoted investigations on topics directly or indirectly related to demography . These studies vary widely in scope and precision . L'Institut pour la Recherche Scientifique en Afrique Centrale ( IRSAC ) has sponsored well-designed field investigations and has cooperated closely with the government of Ruanda-Urundi in the development of its official statistics . A massive investigation of the characteristics of in-migrants and prospective out-migrants in Ruanda-Urundi is being carried on by J. J. Maquet , former Director of the Social Science branch of IRSAC , now a professor at l'Universite Officielle du Congo Belge et du Ruanda-Urundi . Some 30,000 completed schedules with 20 items ( collected by sub-chiefs in 1,100 circumscriptions ) have been tabulated . The results are now being analyzed . Statistics have been recognized as a matter of strategic importance in the Congo and in Ruanda-Urundi during the post-war years in connection with long-term economic and social programs . The AIMO organizations of both countries , which maintain administrative services throughout the territories , retained immediate responsibility for the collection and publication of demographic information . However , the statistical offices of both governments were assigned responsibility for the planning and analysis of these statistics . A Bureau de la Demographie ( A. Romaniuk , Director ) was formed under AIMO in the Congo , to work in close rapport with the Section Statistique of the Secretariat General . Eventually responsibility for demographic inquiries in the Congo was transferred to the demographic division of the Central Statistical Office . The 1952 demographic inquiry in Ruanda-Urundi was directed by V. Neesen , a member of the IRSAC staff , though the inquiry was carried out under the auspices of AIMO , which has continuing responsibility for demographic statistics in this territory . A member of the IRSAC staff ( E. van de Walle ) was recently delegated to cooperate with AIMO in the development of demographic statistics in this territory . The initiation of sampling censuses in Ruanda-Urundi ( 1952 ) and in the Congo ( 1955-57 ) were major advances . We will deal first with the program in the Congo though this was put into operation later than the other . The radical nature of the innovation in the Congo was not emphasized in the official announcements . The term enquetes demographiques , previously used for the supplementary investigations carried out in connection with the administrative censuses , was used for the new investigations . However , the differences in procedure are fundamental . These are as follows : ( 1 ) FIELD WORK PROCEDURES : Field operations were transferred from administrative personnel primarily engaged in other tasks to specially trained teams of full-time African investigators ( three teams , each working in two provinces ) . These teams carried out the same operations successively in different areas . ( 2 ) NATURE OF THE SAMPLE : Sample areas in the new investigations were selected strictly by application of the principles of probability theory , so as to be representative of the total population of defined areas within calculable limits . In short , scientific sampling was introduced in place of subjective sampling . The populations of the various districts , or other major divisions , were stratified by type of community ( rural , urban , mixed ) and , where appropriate , by ethnic affiliation and by type of economy . Sample units ( villages in rural areas , houses in cities ) were drawn systematically within these strata . ( 3 ) SIZE OF THE SAMPLE : Different sampling ratios were applied under different conditions . Higher proportions were sampled in urban and mixed communities than in rural areas . About 11 percent of the total population was covered in the new investigation , as compared with about 3 percent in the previous inquiries . ( 4 ) QUESTIONS AND DEFINITIONS : Uniform questions , definitions , and procedures were enforced throughout the whole country . Data were obtained , separately , on three classes of persons : ( a ) residents , present ; ( b ) residents , absent ; and ( c ) visitors . In the reports , summary results are given for both the de facto ( a and c ) and de jure ( a and b ) populations ; but the subsequent analysis of characteristics is reported only for the de jure population ( or , in some districts , only the de facto population ) . These changes represent in effect , a shift from ( 1 ) an administrative compilation of data obtained through procedures designed primarily to serve political and economic objectives to ( 2 ) a systematic sampling census of the whole African population . The population registration system still has important functions . It supplies local data which are useful in administration and which can be used as a basis for intensive studies in particular situations . It provides a frame for the sampling census . It also provides a frame within which the registration of vital events is gradually gaining force ( though one can not expect to obtain reliable vital statistics in most parts of the Congo from this source in the near future ) . It is still used in making current population estimates in post-census years , though the value of these estimates is open to question . Finally , it may have certain very important , less obvious values . Even though the registers may have an incomplete record of persons present in a particular area or include persons no longer living there , they contain precise information on ages , by date of birth , for some of the persons present ( especially children in relatively stable communities ) and supplementary information ( such as records of marital status ) for many others . The quality of the census data can , therefore , be greatly improved by the use of the registration records in conjunction with the field inquiries . Furthermore , it may be possible to estimate the error due to bias in method ( as distinguished from sampling error ) in each of these sources , on such subjects as fertility , mortality , and migration during a given interval by using information from two largely independent sources in conjunction . The first sampling census in the Congo extended over a three-year period , 1955-57 ; the results were still being processed in 1959 . It is planned to double the number of teams and to make use of improved equipment in a second demographic inquiry in 1960 , so that the inquiry can be carried through in one year and the results published more expeditiously . It is proposed that in the future complete sampling censuses be carried out at five-year intervals . Reports already issued on the sampling census , 1955-57 , in various areas run as follows ( using only the French and omitting corresponding Flemish titles ) : . This report contains preliminary notes and 35 tables . Other reports in identical form , but with somewhat varying content , have been issued for : . These area reports will be followed , according to present plans , by a summary report , which will include a detailed statement on methods . With this evidence in mind , the writer began to plan how he might more effectively educate the married students in his functional classes . Toward the end of the semester 's work , he interviewed every married class member at great length . He found , as he had suspected , a general consensus that perhaps over half of the present functionally designed course was not really functional for these students . However , all admitted that the " hind sight " was not altogether lost . In their own words , it had aided them to get a clearer picture of how they had gotten into their marriages , and perhaps they had obtained some insights on why certain troubles appeared from time to time . In fact , they went so far as to caution the writer that if he attempted to design a section exclusively for married students there should be , at the beginning , some " hind sight " study ; but they all hastened to add that certainly less time was needed on it than presently spent . All of them felt a compelling need for more coverage on areas that could be only lightly touched upon in a general survey functional course . A few were doubtful about the merits of an exclusive section for married students . As one of them expressed it , " It has done me a world of good to listen to the na.iuml ; ve questions and comments of these not-yet-married people . I can now better see just what processes provoked certain actions from me in the past . Had I been in an all-married section I would have missed this , and I believe that this single aspect has been of great personal value to me " . This comment and others similar to it , would seem to indicate a possible justification for continuing the status quo . But the weight of feeling was heavily in the opposite direction . Thus , the writer decided to hold one experimental section of the functional preparation for marriage course in the spring semester of 1960 exclusively for persons already married — that is , prerequisite : " marriage " . This did not mean that married students could not enroll in other " mixed " sections , and some of them , largely because of scheduling difficulties , did . But only those already married could enroll in this one section . In addition , two other differences in the two types of sections must be noted . 1 ) The regular sections do not allow freshmen ; this one did . This action was rationalized on the basis of a small survey which indicated that a high percentage of married freshmen women on our campus never become sophomores . Many of them appear to drop out , for one reason or another . By permitting freshman students we might extend the opportunity for such a course to some individuals who otherwise might never get to take it . This has subsequently been verified by the experience . 2 ) Auditors were encouraged . In the regular sections they have always been more or less discouraged . The philosophy has been that if they could find the time to attend class why not encourage them to get the credit and perhaps provide an incentive to do the work more effectively . Besides , auditors do not count on faculty load with the same weight as regularly enrolled students . But in this one section we welcomed auditors . Why ? For no particular reason , other than that the writer felt it might — just might — encourage both mates to be in attendance . Many of the men on our campus have a pretty set curriculum , especially in the various engineering fields , with few electives till the senior year . Incidentally , it needs to be noted that because auditors were permitted the section began increasing in numbers each week , until at last it swelled to such proportions that this " free " auditing policy had to be retracted . After that , we began to get " visitors " to class . This experimental class represented quite a variety of students . It ranged from a freshman woman , just married , through the various academic growth stages , including one senior-graduate student , to a young faculty member recently married to a senior man who also attended . It ranged from those with no children , through students in various stages of pregnancy , to one 44-year-old male with four children , three of whom were teenagers . It ranged from two women members who had experienced premarital pregnancy to one couple twelve years married and seemingly unable to conceive . One might digress at this point and speculate that if it is " wise " to create special sections for special status , then why not a special section for women pregnant before marriage , and one for 44-year-old men with teenage children , and so on . Some of these speculations may have some merit , others are somewhat ambiguous . But few who have experienced marriage can dispute the fact that the focus of interpersonal relationships is different in marriage than in a pre-marital situation . The writer began this special class by explaining his background thinking for creating such a section in the first place . He made it clear from the beginning that this was the students ' opportunity , and that the future destiny of such groups depended on favorable results from this one . He did build a framework of academic " respectability " , and one which did not encroach upon the " sacred sovereignty " of any other existing campus course . This is to say that this was not a course in wise buying or money spending methods , nor a course in how to raise children . We already have courses covering those problems , and so on . But within that framework he allowed for as much flexibility as possible . A steering committee of students was organized on the first day whose duty it was to be alert and constantly evaluate and re-evaluate the direction and pace the class was taking . The writer , being cognizant through his interviews of the reactions of previous married students , did insist on there being included some " hind sight " material . But the greater part of semester time was actually centered around the attitudes " So we are married — now how do we make the best of it " ? or " How do we enrich our already fine marriage " ? Films were used , as with all sections , but with one big difference . Our campus , unfortunately , owns no films . Since they are all either rented or borrowed , the requested dates for their use have to be far in advance . The writer never knew from week to week just where the section might be . For example , the steering committee might announce that the group felt a topic under study should not be dropped for an additional week as there was still too much of it untouched . Since the writer had established this democratic procedure in the beginning he had to go along with their decision — after , of course , pointing out whether he thought their decision was a wise or an unwise one . Thus the films seen as they came in ( coordinated for the regular sections ) , were often out of context . Nevertheless , the writer has never experienced such spontaneity of discussion after film showings . Though it did not become known to the writer for some time , a nucleus group had sprung up within the class . They began to meet in the evenings and carry forward various discussions they felt not fully enough covered in class . From a few students this group gradually increased to include over three-fourths of those officially enrolled in the class , and many outsiders as well . Also , although only a few of the students were intimately acquainted with each other in the beginning , most reported that when the semester ended their dearest and closest campus friendships were with members of that class . In fact , they often revamped their social activities to include class members previously unknown . Supplemental outside reading reports were handled just as in the other sections , the major difference being that there was a noticeably deeper level in the reported outside reading by the married group . These students , although they might read various articles in popular magazines , more often chose to report on articles found in the journals . In addition to the noticeable difference in outside articles , there was a considerable difference in the outside books they read . Whereas a high per cent of the regular students can be expected to read other texts which more or less plow the same ground in a little different direction , the married students chose whole books on specific areas and went into much greater detail in their areas of interest . Since the writer had not noticed this characteristic in married students scattered throughout the various sections previous to this experiment , nor , as a matter of fact , in those who were continuing in " single sections " , he can only conclude that there must have been something " contagious " within the specific group which caused this to occur . In the main , this course took the following directional high roads : 1 ) A great deal of time was spent on processes for solving marital differences . This was not a search for a " magic formula " , but rather an examination of basic principles pertaining especially to all types of communication in marriage . In short , it was centered around learning how to develop a more sensitive empathy . Not until the group was satisfied in this area were they willing to venture further to 2 ) Specific adjustment areas , such as sex , in-laws , religion , finance , and so on . From here they proceeded to 3 ) These same areas in relation to their own future family life stages , developing these to the extent of examining various crises which could be expected to confront them at some time or other . As an example of this last facet , there were some lengthy discussions centered around bereavement . Mainly these were concerned with the possibility of the death of one parent and the complication of living with the survivor afterward , but the possible death of one 's own spouse was not overlooked . Since the course , one member has lost her husband . This was not a particularly shocking or unexpected thing — it was previously known to her that it might happen . But just when was an unknown , and of course the longer it did not happen , the stronger her wish and belief that it might not . Since her bereavement this individual has reported to the writer on numerous occasions about how helpful the class discussions were to her in this adjustment crisis . Quite frequently class members brought questions from their mates at home . These were often carefully written out with a great deal of thought behind them . This added a personal zest to class discussions and participation . Both sexes reported that the discussions on sex adjustment within marriage were extremely enlightening . The writer sensed a much freer and more frank discussion , especially of this one area , than ever before . He felt certain for the first time in his teaching experience that the men in the class understood that orgasm , as a criterion , is not nearly so essential for a satisfying female sexual experience as most males might think . This was probably much more meaningful because all the women in the class emphasized it time and again . On the other hand , the women class members appeared to reach a far greater understanding than have women members in other sections that it is more natural for males as a group to view sex as sex rather than always associating it with love as most women seem to do . in the reproductive area it could be readily observed that all felt freer to discuss things than students had previously in " mixed " marital status sections . Perhaps this was related to the fact that all were in on it to some extent . Never in other sections has there been the opportunity for the genuine down-to-earth discussions about the feelings of both spouses during various stages of pregnancy . There was a particularly marvelous opportunity for study in this area since almost every stage of pregnancy was represented , from a childless couple to and including every trimester . In fact , we had one birth before the end of the course , and another student had to take the final examiantion a week early , just to be on the safe side . There was also one spontaneous abortion during the semester . Thus it is reasonable to believe that there is a significant difference between the two groups in their performance on this task after a brief " structuring " experience . It was predicted that Kohnstamm-negative subjects would adhere to more liberal , concretistic reports of what the ambiguous figure " looked like " as reflecting their hesitancy about taking chances . This was true mostly of those Kohnstamm-negative subjects who did not perceive the ambiguous figure as people in action . Responses such as " rope with a loop in it " , and " two pieces of rope " , were quite characteristic . GUILFORD-MARTIN PERSONALITY INVENTORIES . The three personality inventories ( Guilford STDCR ; Guilford-Martin GAMIN ; Guilford-Martin OAGCo ) , were filled out by 12 of the Kohnstamm-positive subjects and 19 of the Kohnstamm-negative subjects . These were the same subjects who were given the Rorschach test . Some predictions had been made concerning factors R , N , I and Co on these inventories which appeared to be directly related to control and security aspects of personality functioning which were hypothesized as being of importance in differential Kohnstamm reactivity . Only Co differentiated between the two groups at less that the 5% level ( **f ) . One prediction had been made about the difference in security or self-confidence between those subjects who shifted their Kohnstamm reactivity when informed and those who did not . The nonreactors had been separated into two groups on this assumption with the presumably " secure " nonreactors and " secure " reactors being used as the groups for comparative personality studies . It was predicted that those who shifted in their Kohnstamm reactivity would differ significantly from those who did not on the factor I which the investigators refer to as the " Inferiority " factor . All of the subjects in the Kohnstamm-negative and Kohnstamm-positive groups ( as defined for purposes of the personality studies ) were compared with those subjects who shifted in Conditions /3 , or /4 , . A t test on these two groups , shifters vs. nonshifters , gave a " t " value of 2.405 which is significant on the two-tail test at the .028 level . DISCUSSION INDIVIDUAL DIFFERENCES Individual differences in Kohnstamm reactivity to controlled Kohnstamm situations were found among the subjects used in the study . Only 27% ( 11 subjects ) gave a positive Kohnstamm reaction when completely na.iuml ; ve concerning the phenomenon . There were 49% ( 20 subjects ) who did not give a positive reaction even after they were informed of the normalcy of such a reaction and had been given a demonstration . There were 24% ( 10 subjects ) who shifted from a negative to a positive reaction after they were reassured as to the normalcy of the Kohnstamm-positive reaction . Among this latter group there were also differences in the amount and kind of information necessary before a shift in reaction occurred . One subject changed when given only the information that some people have something happen to their arm when they relax . Five subjects ( 12% ) did not change until they had been told that some people have something happen to their arm , what that something was , and also were given a demonstration . Four subjects ( 10% ) did not change even then but needed the additional information that an arm-elevation under these circumstances was a perfectly normal reflex reaction which some people showed while others did not . At no time was it implied by the experimenter that the subject 's initial reaction was deviant . The subjects were only given information about other possibilities of " normal " reaction . Those who responded with an arm-elevation in the na.iuml ; ve state did not change their reaction when told that there were some normal people who did not react in this fashion . This information was accepted with the frequent interpretation that those persons who did not show arm-levitation must be preventing it . These subjects implied that they too could prevent their arms from rising if they tried . The positive Kohnstamm reactivity in Condition /1 , ( the na.iuml ; ve state ) is not adequately explained by such a concept as suggestibility ( if suggestibility is defined as the influence on behavior by verbal cues ) . In no way , either verbally or behaviorally , did the experimenter indicate to the subjects any preferred mode of responding to the voluntary contraction . Moreover , when the experimenter did inform those subjects that there were some normal people who did not have their arm rise once they relaxed , the Kohnstamm-positive subjects were uninfluenced in their subsequent reactions to the Kohnstamm situation . They continued to give an arm-elevation . A differential suggestibility would have to be invoked to explain the failure of this additional information to influence the Kohnstamm-positive reactors and yet attribute their na.iuml ; ve Kohnstamm reactivity to suggestion . Autosuggestibility , the reaction of the subject in such a way as to conform to his own expectations of the outcome ( i.e. , that the arm-rise is a reaction to the pressure exerted in the voluntary contraction , because of his knowledge that " to every reaction there is an equal and opposite reaction " ) also seems inadequate as an explanation for the following reasons : ( 1 ) the subjects ' apparently genuine experience of surprise when their arms rose , and ( 2 ) manifestations of the phenomenon despite anticipations of something else happening ( e.g. , of becoming dizzy and maybe falling , an expectation spontaneously volunteered by one of the subjects ) . A suggestion hypothesis also seems inadequate as an explanation for those who shifted their reactions after they were informed of the possibilities of " normal " reactions different from those which they gave . While they were told that there were some normal people who reacted differently than they had , they were also informed that there were other normals who reacted as they had . There was no implication made that their initial reaction ( absence of an arm-elevation ) was less preferred than the presence of levitation . A more tenable explanation for the change in reactions is that the added knowledge and increased familiarity with the total situation made it possible for these subjects to be less guarded and to relax , since any reaction seemed acceptable to the examiner as " normal " . The na.iuml ; ve state , Condition /1 , , could therefore be viewed as an inhibiting one for 24% of the subjects in this study . They were not free to be themselves in this situation , an interpersonal one , where there was an observer of their reactions and they had no guide for acceptable behavior . Instructions to relax , i.e. , to be " spontaneous " , and react immediately to whatever impulse they might have , was not sufficiently reassuring until some idea of the possibilities of normal reactions had been given . While other conditions might be even more effective in bringing about a change from immobility to mobility in Kohnstamm reactivity , it is our hypothesis that all such conditions would have as a common factor the capacity to induce an attitude in the subject which enabled him to divorce himself temporarily from feelings of responsibility for his behavior . Alcohol ingestion succeeded in changing immobility to mobility quite strikingly in one pilot subject ( the only one with whom this technique was tried ) . This subject , who has been undergoing psychoanalytic psychotherapy for five years , did not give a positive Kohnstamm reaction under any of the four standardized conditions used in this experiment while sober . After two drinks containing alcohol , her arm flew upward very freely . There was evident delight on the part of the subject in response to her experience of the freedom of movement . She described herself as having the same kind of " irresponsible " feeling as she had once experienced under hypnosis . She ascribed her delight with both experiences to the effect they seemed to have of temporarily removing from her the controls which she felt so compulsively necessary to maintain even when it might seem appropriate to relax these controls . Many subjects attributed differences in Kohnstamm reactivity to differences in degrees of subjective control — voluntary as the Kohnstamm-positive subjects perceived it and involuntary as the Kohnstamm-negative subjects perceived it . These suggested interpretations were given by the subjects spontaneously when they were told that there were people who reacted differently than they had . The Kohnstamm-positive subjects described the vivid experience of having their arms rise as one in which they exercised no control . They explained its absence in others on the basis of an intervention of control factors . They felt that they too could counteract the upward arm movement by a voluntary effort after they had once experienced the reaction . Some of those who did not initially react with an arm-elevation also associated their behavior in the situation with control factors — an inability to relinquish control voluntarily . One subject spontaneously asked ( after her arm had finally risen ) , " Do you suppose I was unconsciously keeping it down before " ? Another said that her arm did not go up at first " because I would n't let it ; I thought it was n't supposed to " . This subject was one who gave an arm-elevation on the second trial in the na.iuml ; ve state but not in the first . She had felt that her arm wanted to go up in the first trial , but had consciously prevented it from so doing . She explained nonreactivity of others by saying that they were " not letting themselves relax " . When informed that there were some persons who did not have their arm go up , she commented , " I do n't see how they can prevent it " . In contrast to this voluntary-control explanation for nonreactivity given by the Kohnstamm-positive subjects , the Kohnstamm-negative subjects offered an involuntary-control hypothesis to explain nonreactivity . They felt that they were relaxing as much as they could and that any control factors which might be present to prevent response must be on an unconscious level . The above discussion does not mean to imply that control factors were completely in abeyance in the Kohnstamm-positive subjects ; but rather that they could be diminished sufficiently not to interfere with arm-levitation . One Kohnstamm-positive subject who had both arms rise while being tested in the na.iuml ; ve condition described her subjective experience as follows : " You feel they 're going up and you 're on a stage and it 's not right for them to do so and then you think maybe that 's what 's supposed to happen " . She then described her experience as one in which she first had difficulty accepting for herself a state of being in which she relinquished control . However , she was able to relax and yield to the moment . It is our hypothesis that Kohnstamm-positive subjects are less hesitant about relinquishing control than are Kohnstamm-negative subjects ; that they can give up their control and allow themselves to be reactors rather than actors . It is our belief that this readiness to relinquish some control was evidenced by the Kohnstamm-positive subjects in some of the other experimental situations to be discussed below . Thus , this readiness to relax controls , evidenced in the Kohnstamm situation , appears to be a more general personality factor . ANISEIKONIC ILLUSION The Kohnstamm-positive subjects seemed to be freer to experience the unusual and seemingly impossible in the external world . There was a significantly greater number in this group who reported a desk as being in a tilted position while a tennis ball resting on it remained stationary on the incline . This occurred in spite of the rational awareness that the ball should be going downhill . They knew that their perceptual experience differed from objective reality since they had seen the desk and ball prior to putting on the aniseikonic lenses . Yet they were not so bound by past experience and constriction as to deny their immediate perceptions and to be dominated by their knowledge of what the experience should be . The change in perceptions by some of the Kohnstamm-negative subjects , after they had been informed of the possibilities of normal reactions , suggests that their constriction and guardedness is associated with their general mode of responding to strange or unknown situations . They were able to experience at first , in terms of past conventionality . When informed as to the various possibilities of normal reactions , they were then able to experience the uniqueness of the present . It might be postulated that these subjects are unduly afraid of being wrong ; that they perceive new internal and environmental situations as " threatening " until they are tested and proved otherwise . While the interpretations that have been given are inferences only , they gain support from such comments as the following , which was made by one of the Kohnstamm-negative subjects who did not , on the first trial , perceive the tilt illusion . CONTROL OF SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS It would have been desirable for the two communities to have differed only in respect to the variable being investigated : the degree of structure in teaching method . The structured schools were in an industrial city , with three-family tenement houses typical of the residential areas , but with one rather sizable section of middle-class homes . The unstructured schools were in a large suburban community , predominantly middle — to upper-middle class , but fringed by an industrial area . In order to equate the samples on socioeconomic status , we chose schools in both cities on the basis of socioeconomic status of the neighborhoods . School principals and guidance workers made ratings of the various neighborhoods and the research team made independent observations of houses and dwelling areas . An objective scale was developed for rating school neighborhoods from these data . Equal proportions of children in each city were drawn from upper-lower and lower-middle class neighborhoods . SUBJECTS Individual differences in maturation and the development of readiness for learning to read indicate that not until the third grade have most children had ample opportunity to demonstrate their capacity for school achievement . Therefore , third-grade children were chosen as subjects for this study . For purposes of sample selection only ( individual tests were given later ) we obtained group test scores of reading achievement and intelligence from school records of the entire third-grade population in each school system . The subjects for this study were randomly selected from stratified areas of the distribution , one-third as underachievers , one-third medium , and one-third over-achievers . Children whose reading scores were at least one standard deviation below the regression line of each total third-grade school population were considered under-achievers for the purposes of sample selection . Over-achievers were at least one standard deviation above the regression line in their school system . The final sample was not significantly different from a normal distribution in regard to reading achievement or intelligence test scores . Twenty-four classrooms in twelve unstructured schools furnished 156 cases , 87 boys and 69 girls . Eight classrooms in three structured schools furnished 72 cases , 36 boys and 36 girls . Administrative restrictions necessitated the smaller sample size in the structured schools . It was assumed that the sampling procedure was purely random with respect to the personality variables under investigation . RATING SCALE OF COMPULSIVITY An interview schedule of open-ended questions and a multiple-choice questionnaire were prepared , and one parent of each of the sample children was seen in the home . The parent was asked to describe the child 's typical behavior in certain standard situations in which there was an opportunity to observe tendencies toward perfectionism in demands upon self and others , irrational conformity to rules , orderliness , punctuality , and need for certainty . The interviewers were instructed not to suggest answers and , as much as possible , to record the parents ' actual words as they described the child 's behavior in home situations . The rating scale of compulsivity was constructed by first perusing the interview records , categorizing all evidence related to compulsivity , then arranging a distribution of such information apart from the case records . Final ratings were made on the basis of a point system which was developed after studying the distributions of actual behaviors recorded and assigning weight values to each type of behavior that was deviant from the discovered norms . Children scoring high in compulsivity were those who gave evidence of tension or emotionality in situations where there was lack of organization or conformity to standards and expectations , or who made exaggerated efforts to achieve these goals . The low compulsive child was one who appeared relatively unconcerned about such matters . For instance , the following statement was rated low in compulsivity , " She 's naturally quite neat about things , but it does n't bother her at all if her room gets messy . But she cleans it up very well when I remind her " . MEASUREMENT OF ANXIETY Castaneda , et al. revised the Taylor Anxiety Scale for use with children . The Taylor Scale was adapted from the Minnesota Multiphastic Personality Inventory , with item selection based upon clinical definitions of anxiety . There is much research evidence to validate the use of the instrument in differentiating individuals who are likely to manifest anxiety in varying degrees . Reliability and validation work with the Children 's Anxiety Scale by Castaneda , et al. demonstrated results closely similar to the findings with the adult scale . Although the Taylor Scale was designed as a group testing device , in this study it was individually administered by psychologically trained workers who established rapport and assisted the children in reading the items . RELATIONSHIP OF ANXIETY TO COMPULSIVITY The question may be raised whether or not we are dealing with a common factor in anxiety and compulsivity . The two ratings yield a correlation of +.04 , which is not significantly different from zero ; therefore , we have measured two different characteristics . In theory , compulsive behavior is a way of diminishing anxiety , and one might expect a negative association except for the possibility that for many children the obsessive-compulsive defenses are not sufficient to quell the amount of anxiety they suffer . The issue of interaction between anxiety and compulsivity will be taken up later . CRITERION MEASUREMENT In the primary grades , reading permeates almost every aspect of school progress , and the children 's early experiences of success or failure in learning to read often set a pattern of total achievement that is relatively enduring throughout the following years . In establishing criterion measurements , it was therefore thought best to broaden the scope beyond the reading act itself . The predicted interaction effect should , if potent , extend its influence over all academic achievement . The Stanford Achievement Test , Form J , was administered by classroom teachers , consisting of a battery of six sub-tests : Paragraph Meaning , Word Meaning , Spelling , Language , Arithmetic Computation , and Arithmetic Reasoning . All of these sub-tests involve reading except Arithmetic Computation . Scores are stated in grade-equivalents on a national norm . The battery median grade-equivalent was used in data analysis in this study . The Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children was administered to each sample third-grade child by a clinical worker . The relationship of intelligence test scores to school achievement is a well-established fact ( in this case , **f ) ; therefore , in the investigation of the present hypothesis , it was necessary to control this factor . The criterion score used in the statistical analysis is an index of over — or under-achievement . It is the discrepancy between the actual attained achievement test score and the score that would be predicted by the I.Q. For example , on the basis of the regression equation , a child with an I.Q. of 120 in this sample would be expected to earn an achievement test score of 4.8 ( grade equivalent ) . If a child with an I.Q. of 120 scored 5.5 in achievement , his discrepancy score would be +.7 , representing .7 of one year of over-achievement . A child with an I.Q. of 98 would be expected to earn an achievement test score of 3.5 . If such a child scored 3.0 , his discrepancy score would be -.5 , representing .5 of one year of under-achievement . In this manner , the factors measured by the intelligence test were controlled , allowing discovered differences in achievement to be interpreted as resulting from other variables . RESULTS TEST OF INTERACTION OF COMPULSIVITY AND TEACHING METHODS Tables 1 and 2 present the results of the statistical analysis of the data when compulsivity is used as the descriptive variable . Figure 1 portrays the mean achievement scores of each sub-group graphically . First of all , as we had surmised , the highly compulsive children in the structured setting score significantly better ( **f ) on achievement than do similar children in the unstructured schools . It can be seen too that when we contrast levels of compulsivity within the structured schools , the high compulsive children do better ( **f ) . No significant difference was found in achievement between high and low compulsive children within the unstructured school . The hypothesis of there being an interaction between compulsivity and teaching method was supported , in this case , at the .05 level . While we had expected that compulsive children in the unstructured school setting would have difficulty when compared to those in the structured , we were surprised to find that the achievement of the high compulsives within the schools where the whole-word method is used in beginning reading compares favorably with that of the low compulsives . Indeed their achievement scores were somewhat better on an absolute basis although the difference was not significant . We speculate that compulsives in the unstructured schools are under greater strain because of the lack of systemization in their school setting , but that their need to organize ( for comfort ) is so intense that they struggle to induce the phonic rules and achieve in spite of the lack of direction from the environment . It is interesting to note that medium compulsives in the unstructured schools made the lowest achievement scores ( although not significantly lower ) . Possibly their compulsivity was not strong enough to cause them to build their own structure . Our conjecture is , then , that regardless of the manner in which school lessons are taught , the compulsive child accentuates those elements of each lesson that aid him in systematizing his work . When helped by a high degree of structure in lesson presentation , then , and only then , does such a child attain unusual success . TEST OF INTERACTION OF ANXIETY AND TEACHING METHODS The statistical analyses of achievement in relation to anxiety and teaching methods and the interactions of the two are presented in Tables 3 and 4 . Figure 2 is a graph of the mean achievement scores of each group . As predicted , the highly anxious children in the unstructured schools score more poorly ( **f ) than those in the structured schools . The interaction effect , which is significant at the .01 level , can be seen best in the contrast of mean scores . While high anxiety children achieve significantly less well ( **f ) in the unstructured school than do low anxiety children , they appear to do at least as well as the average in the structured classroom . The most striking aspect of the interaction demonstrated is the marked decrement in performance suffered by the highly anxious children in unstructured schools . According to the theory proposed , this is a consequence of the severe condition of perceived threat that persists unabated for the anxious child in an ambiguous sort of school environment . The fact that such threat is potent in the beginning reading lessons is thought to be a vital factor in the continued pattern of failure or under-achievement these children exhibit . The child with high anxiety may first direct his anxiety-released energy toward achievement , but because his distress severely reduces the abilities of discrimination and memorization of complex symbols , the child may fail in his initial attempts to master the problem . Failure confirms the threat , and the intensity of anxiety is increased as the required learning becomes more difficult , so that by the time the child reaches the third grade the decrement in performance is pronounced . The individual with high anxiety in the structured classroom may approach the learning task with the same increased energy and lowered powers of discrimination . But the symbols he is asked to learn are simple . As shown earlier , the highly anxious individual may be superior in his memorizing of simple elements . Success reduces the prospect of threat and his powers of discrimination are improved . By the time the child first attacks the actual problem of reading , he is completely familiar and at ease with all of the elements of words . Apparently academic challenge in the structured setting creates an optimum of stress so that the child with high anxiety is able to achieve because he is aroused to an energetic state without becoming confused or panicked . Sarason et al. present evidence that the anxious child will suffer in the test-like situation , and that his performance will be impaired unless he receives supporting and accepting treatment from the teacher . Although the present study was not a direct replication of their investigations , the results do not confirm their conclusion . Observers , in the two school systems studied here , judged the teachers in the structured schools to be more impersonal and demanding , while the atmosphere in the unstructured schools was judged to be more supporting and accepting . Yet the highly anxious child suffered a tremendous disadvantage only in the unstructured school , and performed as well or better than average in the structured setting . ANALYSIS Analysis means the evaluation of subparts , the comparative ratings of parts , the comprehension of the meaning of isolated elements . Analysis in roleplaying is usually done for the purpose of understanding strong and weak points of an individual or as a process to eliminate weak parts and strengthen good parts . IMPERSONAL PURPOSES Up to this point stress has been placed on roleplaying in terms of individuals . Roleplaying can be done for quite a different purpose : to evaluate procedures , regardless of individuals . For example : a sales presentation can be analyzed and evaluated through roleplaying . EXAMPLES Let us now put some flesh on the theoretical bones we have assembled by giving illustrations of roleplaying used for evaluation and analysis . One should keep in mind that many of the exciting possiblities of roleplaying are largely unexplored and have not been used in industry to the extent that they have been in military and other areas . EVALUATION The president of a small firm selling restaurant products , had considerable difficulty in finding suitable salesmen for his business . Interviewing , checking references , training the salesmen , having them go with more experienced salesmen was expensive — and the rate of attrition due to resignations or unsatisfactory performance was too high . It was his experience that only one good salesman was found out of every seven hired — and only one was hired out of every seven interviewed . Roleplaying was offered as a solution — and the procedure worked as follows : all candidates were invited to a hotel conference room , where the president explained the difficulty he had , and how unnecessary it seemed to him to hire people who just did not work out . In place of asking salesmen to fill questionnaires , checking their references , interviewing them , asking them to be tried out , he told them he would prefer to test them . Each person was to enter the testing room , carrying a suitcase of samples . Each salesman was to read a sheet containing a description of the product . In the testing room he was to make , successively , three presentations to three different people . In the testing room , three of the veteran salesmen served as antagonists . One handled the salesman in a friendly manner , another in a rough manner , and the third in a hesitating manner . Each was told to purchase material if he felt like it . The antagonists came in , one at a time , and did not see or hear the other presentations . After each presentation , the antagonist wrote his judgment of the salesmen ; and so did the observers consisting of the president , three of his salesmen and a psychologist . Ten salesmen were tested in the morning and ten more in the afternoon . This procedure was repeated one day a month for four months . The batting average of one success out of seven increased to one out of three . The president of the firm , calculating expenses alone , felt his costs had dropped one-half while success in selection had improved over one hundred per cent . The reason for the value of this procedure was simply that the applicants were tested " at work " in different situations by the judgment of a number of experts who could see how the salesmen conducted themselves with different , but typical restaurant owners and managers . They were , in a sense , " tried out " in realistic situations . From the point of view of the applicants , less time was wasted in being evaluated — and they got a meal out of it as well as some insights into their performances . Another use of roleplaying for evaluation illustrates how this procedure can be used in real life situations without special equipment or special assistants during the daily course of work . The position of receptionist was opened in a large office and an announcement was made to the other girls already working that they could apply for this job which had higher prestige and slightly higher salary than typing and clerking positions . All applicants were generally familiar with the work of the receptionist . At the end of work one day , the personnel man took the applicants one at a time , asked them to sit behind the receptionist 's desk and he then played the role of a number of people who might come to the receptionist with a number of queries and for a number of purposes . Each girl was independently " tested " by the personnel man , and he served not only as the director , but as the antagonist and the observer . Somewhat to his surprise he found that one girl , whom he would never have considered for the job since she had appeared somewhat mousy and also had been in the office a relatively short time , did the most outstanding job of playing the role of receptionist , showing wit , sparkle , and aplomb . She was hired and was found to be entirely satisfactory when she played the role eight hours a day . ANALYSIS In considering roleplaying for analysis we enter a more complex area , since we are now no longer dealing with a simple over-all decision but rather with the examination and evaluation of many elements seen in dynamic functioning . Some cases in evidence of the use of roleplaying for analysis may help explain the procedure . An engineer had been made the works manager of a firm , supplanting a retired employee who had been considered outstandingly successful . The engineer had more than seven years of experience in the firm , was well trained , was considered a hard worker , was respected by his fellow engineers for his technical competence and was regarded as a " comer " . However , he turned out to be a complete failure in his new position . He seemed to antagonize everyone . Turnover rates of personnel went up , production dropped , and morale was visibly reduced . Despite the fact that he was regarded as an outstanding engineer , he seemed to be a very poor administrator , although no one quite knew what was wrong with him . At the insistence of his own supervisor — the president of the firm , he enrolled in a course designed to develop leaders . He played a number of typical situations before observers , other supervisors who kept notes and then explained to him in detail what he did they thought was wrong . Entirely concerned with efficiency , he was merciless in criticizing people who made mistakes , condemning them to too great an extent . He did not really listen to others , had little interest in their ideas , and wanted to have his own way — which was the only right way . The entire group of managers explained , in great detail , a number of human relations errors that he made . One by one , these errors were discussed and one by one he rejected accepting them as errors . He admitted his behavior , and defended it . He refused to change his approach , and instead he attacked high and low — the officials for their not backing him , and subordinates for their laxness , stupidity , and stubbornness . After the diagnosing , he left the course , convinced that it could do him no good . We may say that his problem was diagnosed but that he refused treatment . The engineer turned works manager had a particular view of life — and refused to change it . We may say that his attitude was foolish , since he may have been a success had he learned some human relations skills ; or we may say that his attitude was commendable , showing his independence of mind , in his refusal to adjust to the opinions of others . In any case , he refused to accept the implications of the analysis , that he needed to be made over . Another case may be given in illustration of a successful use of analysis , and also of the employment of a procedure for intensive analysis . In a course for supermarket operators , a district manager who had been recently appointed to his position after being outstandingly successful as a store manager , found that in supervising other managers he was having a difficult time . On playing some typical situations before a jury of his peers he showed some characteristics rated as unsatisfactory . He was told he displayed , for example , a sense of superiority — and he answered : " Well , I am supposed to know all the answers , are n't I " ? He was criticized for his curtness and abruptness — and he answered : " I am not working to become popular " . On being criticized for his arbitrary behavior — he answered : " I have to make decisions . That 's my job " . In short , as frequently happens in analyses , the individual feels threatened and defends himself . However , in this case the district manager was led to see the errors of his ways . The necessary step between diagnosis and training is acceptance of the validity of the criticisms . How this was accomplished may be described , since this sometimes is a crucial problem . The director helped tailor-make a check list of the district manager 's errors by asking various observers to write out sentences commenting on the mistakes they felt he made . These errors were then collected and written on a blackboard , condensing similar ideas . Eighteen errors were located , and then the director asked each individual to vote whether or not they felt that this manager had made the particular errors . They were asked to vote " true " if they thought they had seen him make the error , " false " if they thought he had not ; and " can not say " if they were not certain . The manager sat behind the group so he could see and count the hands that went up , and the director wrote the numbers on the blackboard . No comments were made during the voting . The results looked as follows : **f . The first eight of these eighteen statements , which received at least one-half of the votes , were duplicated to form an analysis checklist for the particular manager , and when this particular manager roleplayed in other situations , the members checked any items that appeared . To prevent the manager from deliberately controlling himself only during the sessions , they were rather lengthy ( about twenty minutes ) , the situations were imperfectly described to the manager so that he would not know what to expect , new antagonists were brought on the scene unexpectedly , and the antagonists were instructed to deliberately behave in such ways as to upset the manager and get him to operate in a manner for which he had been previously criticized . After every session , the check marks were totaled up and graphed , and in this way the supervisor 's progress was charted . SUMMARY In life we learn to play our roles and we " freeze " into patterns which become so habitual that we are not really aware of what we do . We can see others more clearly than we can see ourselves , and others can see us better than we see ourselves . To learn what we do is the first step for improvement . To accept the validity of the judgments of others is the second step . To want to change is the third step . To practice new procedures under guided supervision and with constant feedback is the fourth step . To use these new ways in daily life is the last step . Roleplaying used for analysis follows these general steps leading to training . When an evaluative situation is set up , and no concern is with the details that lead to an over-all estimate , we say that roleplaying is used for evaluation . Observers can see a person engaged in spontaneous behavior , and watch him operating in a totalistic fashion . This behavior is more " veridical " — or true than other testing behavior for some types of evaluation , and so can give quick and accurate estimates of complex functioning . While roleplaying for testing is not too well understood at the present time , it represents one of the major uses of this procedure . CHAPTER /10 , SPONTANEITY TRAINING THE OBJECTIVE OF THIS CHAPTER is to clarify the distinctions between spontaneity theory and other training concepts . In addition , the basic approach utilized in applying roleplaying will be reviewed . The goal will be to provide the reader with an integrated rationale to aid him in applying roleplaying techniques in this unique training area . The reasons for extracting this particular roleplaying application from the previous discussion of training are twofold : 1 . Spontaneity training theory is unique and relatively new . It is not easy for the therapist to discern when , in the patient 's communicating , an introject has appeared and is holding sway . One learns to become alert to changes in his vocal tone — to his voice 's suddenly shifting to a quality not like his usual one , a quality which sounds somehow artificial or , in some instances , parrotlike . The content of his words may lapse back into monotonous repetition , as if a phonograph needle were stuck in one groove ; only seldom is it so simple as to be a matter of his obviously parroting some timeworn axiom , common to our culture , which he has evidently heard , over and over , from a parent until he experiences it as part of him . One hebephrenic woman often became submerged in what felt to me like a somehow phony experience of pseudo-emotion , during which , despite her wracking sobs and streaming cheeks , I felt only a cold annoyance with her . Eventually such incidents became more sporadic , and more sharply demarcated from her day-after-day behavior , and in one particular session , after several minutes of such behavior — which , as usual , went on without any accompanying words from her — she asked , eagerly , " Did you see Granny " ? At first I did not know what she meant ; I thought she must be seeing me as some one who had just come from seeing her grandmother , in their distant home-city . Then I realized that she had been deliberately showing me , this time , what Granny was like ; and when I replied in this spirit , she corroborated my hunch . At another phase in the therapy , when a pathogenic mother-introject began to emerge more and more upon the investigative scene , she muttered in a low but intense voice , to herself , " I hate that woman inside me " ! I could evoke no further elaboration from her about this ; but a few seconds later she was standing directly across the room from me , looking me in the eyes and saying in a scathingly condemnatory tone , " Your father despises you " ! Again , I at first misconstrued this disconcertingly intense communication , and I quickly cast through my mind to account for her being able to speak , with such utter conviction , of an opinion held by my father , now several years deceased . Then I replied , coldly , " If you despise me , why do n't you say so , directly " ? She looked confused at this , and I felt sure it had been a wrong response for me to make . It then occurred to me to ask , " Is that what that woman told you " ? She clearly agreed that this had been the case . I realized , now , that she had been showing me , in what impressed me as being a very accurate way , something her mother had once said to her ; it was as if she was showing me one of the reasons why she hated that woman inside her . What had been an unmanageably powerful introject was now , despite its continuing charge of energy disconcerting to me , sufficiently within control of her ego that she could use it to show me what this introjected mother was like . Earlier , this woman had been so filled with a chaotic variety of introjects that at times , when she was in her room alone , it would sound to a passerby as though there were several different persons in the room , as she would vocalize in various kinds of voice . A somewhat less fragmented hebephrenic patient of mine , who used to often seclude herself in her room , often sounded through the closed door — as I would find on passing by , between our sessions — for all the world like two persons , a scolding mother and a defensive child . Particularly hard for the therapist to grasp are those instances in which the patient is manifesting an introject traceable to something in the therapist , some aspect of the therapist of which the latter is himself only poorly aware , and the recognition of which , as a part of himself , he finds distinctly unwelcome . I have found , time and again , that some bit of particularly annoying and intractable behavior on the part of a patient rests , in the final analysis , on this basis ; and only when I can acknowledge this , to myself , as being indeed an aspect of my personality , does it cease to be a prominently troublesome aspect of the patient 's behavior . For example , one hebephrenic man used to annoy me , month after month , by saying , whenever I got up to leave and made my fairly steoreotyped comment that I would be seeing him on the following day , or whenever , " You 're welcome " , in a notably condescending fashion — as though it were his due for me to thank him for the privilege of spending the hour with him , and he were thus pointing up my failure to utter a humbly grateful , " thank you " to him at the end of each session . Eventually it became clear to me , partly with the aid of another schizophrenic patient who could point out my condescension to me somewhat more directly , that this man , with his condescending , " You 're welcome " , was very accurately personifying an element of obnoxious condescension which had been present in my own demeanor , over these months , on each of these occasions when I had bid him good-bye with the consoling note , each time , that the healing Christ would be stooping to dispense this succor to the poor suffered again on the morrow . Another patient , a paranoid woman , for many months infuriated not only me but the ward-personnel and her fellow patients by arrogantly behaving as though she owned the whole building , as though she were the only person in it whose needs were to be met . This behavior on her part subsided only after I had come to see the uncomfortably close similarity between , on the one hand , her arranging the ventilation of the common living room to her own liking , or turning the television off or on without regard to the wishes of the others , and on the other hand , my own coming stolidly into her room despite her persistent and vociferous objections , bringing my big easy chair with me , usually shutting the windows of her room which she preferred to keep in a very cold state , and plunking myself down in my chair — in short , behaving as if I owned her room . 4 . CONDENSATION : Here a variety of meanings and emotions are concentrated , or reduced , in their communicative expression , to some comparatively simple-seeming verbal or nonverbal statement . One finds , for example , that a terse and stereotyped verbal expression , seeming at first to be a mere hollow convention , reveals itself over the months of therapy as the vehicle for expressing the most varied and intense feelings , and the most unconventional of meanings . More than anything , it is the therapist 's intuitive sensing of these latent meanings in the stereotype which helps these meanings to become revealed , something like a spread-out deck of cards , on sporadic occasions over the passage of the patient 's and his months of work together . one can not assume , of course , that all these accumulated meanings were inherent in the stereotype at the beginning of the therapy , or at any one time later on when the stereotype was uttered ; probably it is correct to think of it as a matter of a well-grooved , stereotyped mode of expression — and no , or but a few , other communicational grooves , as yet — being there , available for the patient 's use , as newly-emerging emotions and ideas well up in him over the course of months . But it is true that the therapist can sense , when he hears this stereotype , that there are at this moment many emotional determinants at work in it , a blurred babel of indistinct voices which have yet to become clearly delineated from one another . Sometimes it is not a verbal stereotype — a " How are you now " ? or an " I want to go home " , or whatever — but a nonverbal one which reveals itself , gradually , as the condensed expression of more than one latent meaning . A hebephrenic man used to give a repetitious wave of his hand a number of times during his largely-silent hours with his therapist . When the therapist came to feel on sufficiently sure ground with him to ask him , " What is that , Bill — hello or farewell " ? , the patient replied , " Both , Dearie — two in one " . Of all the possible forms of nonverbal expression , that which seems best to give release , and communicational expression , to complex and undifferentiated feelings is laughter . It is no coincidence that the hebephrenic patient , the most severely dedifferentiated of all schizophrenic patients , shows , as one of his characteristic symptoms , laughter — laughter which now makes one feel scorned or hated , which now makes one feel like weeping , or which now gives one a glimpse of the bleak and empty expanse of man 's despair ; and which , more often than all these , conveys a welter of feelings which could in no way be conveyed by any number of words , words which are so unlike this welter in being formed and discrete from one another . To a much less full extent , the hebephrenic person 's belching or flatus has a comparable communicative function ; in working with these patients the therapist eventually gets to do some at least private mulling over of the possible meaning of a belch , or the passage of flatus , not only because he is reduced to this for lack of anything else to analyze , but also because he learns that even these animal-like sounds constitute forms of communication in which , from time to time , quite different things are being said , long before the patient can become sufficiently aware of these , as distinct feelings and concepts , to say them in words . As I have been intimating , in the schizophrenic — and perhaps also in the dreams of the neurotic ; this is a question which I have no wish to take up — condensation is a phenomenon in which one finds not a condensed expression of various feelings and ideas which are , at an unconscious level , well sorted out , but rather a condensed expression of feelings and ideas which , even in the unconscious , have yet to become well differentiated from one another . Freeman , Cameron and McGhie , in their description of the disturbances of thinking found in chronic schizophrenic patients , say , in regard to condensation , that " … the lack of adequate discrimination between the self and the environment , and the objects contained therein … in itself is the prototypical condensation " . In my experience , a great many of the patient 's more puzzling verbal communications are so for the reason that concrete meanings have not become differentiated from figurative meanings in his subjective experience . Thus he may be referring to some concrete thing , or incident , in his immediate environment by some symbolic-sounding , hyperbolic reference to transcendental events on the global scene . Recently , for example , a paranoid woman 's large-scale philosophizing , in the session , about the intrusive curiosity which has become , in her opinion , a deplorable characteristic of mid-twentieth-century human culture , developed itself , before the end of the session , into a suspicion that I was surreptitiously peeking at her partially exposed breast , as indeed I was . Or , equally often , a concretistic-seeming , particularistic-seeming statement may consist , with its mundane exterior , in a form of poetry — may be full of meaning and emotion when interpreted as a figurative expression : a metaphor , a smile , an allegory , or some other symbolic mode of speaking . Of such hidden meanings the patient himself is , more often than not , entirely unaware . His subjective experience may be a remarkably concretistic one . One hebephrenic women confided to me , " I live in a world of words " , as if , to her , words were fully concrete objects ; Burnham , in his excellent article ( 1955 ) concerning schizophrenic communication , includes mention of similar clinical material . A borderline schizophrenic young man told me that to him the various theoretical concepts about which he had been expounding , in a most articulate fashion , during session after session with me , were like great cubes of almost tangibly solid matter up in the air above him ; as he spoke I was reminded of the great bales of cargo which are swung , high in the air , from a docked steamship . The many linguistic techniques for reducing the amount of dictionary information that have been proposed all organize the dictionary 's contents around prefixes , stems , suffixes , etc . A significant reduction in the voume of store information is thus realized , especially for a highly inflected language such as Russian . For English the reduction in size is less striking . This approach requires that : ( 1 ) each text word be separated into smaller elements to establish a correspondence between the occurrence and dictionary entries , and ( 2 ) the information retrieved from several entries in the dictionary be synthesized into a description of the particular word . The logical scheme used to accomplish the former influences the placement of information in the dictionary file . Implementation of the latter requires storage of information needed only for synthesis . We suggest the application of certain data-processing techniques as a solution to the problem . But first , we must define two terms so that their meaning will be clearly understood : 1 . form — any unique sequence of alphabetic characters that can appear in a language preceded and followed by a space . 2 . occurrence — an instance of a form in text . We propose a method for selecting only dictionary information required by the text being translated and a means for passing the information directly to the occurrences in text . We accomplish this by compiling a list of text forms as text is read by the computer . A random-storage scheme , based on the spelling of forms , provides an economical way to compile this text-form list . Dictionary forms found to match forms in the text list are marked . A location in the computer store is also named for each marked form ; dictionary information about the form stored at this location can be retrieved directly by occurrences of the form in text . Finally , information is retrieved from the dictionary as required by stages of the translation process — the grammatic description for sentence-structure determination , equivalent-choice information for semantic analysis , and target-language equivalents for output construction . The dictionary is a form dictionary , at least in the sense that complete forms are used as the basis for matching text occurrences with dictionary entries . Also , the dictionary is divided into at least two parts : the list of dictionary forms and the file of information that pertains to these forms . A more detailed description of dictionary operations — text lookup and dictionary modification — give a clearer picture . Text lookup , as we will describe it , consists of three steps . The first is compiling a list of text forms , assigning an information cell to each , and replacing text occurrences with the information cell assigned to the form of each occurrence . For this step the computer memory is separated into three regions : cells in the W-region are used for storage of the forms in the text-form list ; cells in the X-region and Y region are reserved as information cells for text forms . When an occurrence **f is isolated during text reading , a random memory address **f , the address of a cell in the X-region , is computed from the form of **f . Let **f denote the form of **f . If cell **f has not previously been assigned as the information cell of a form in the text-form list , it is now assigned as the information cell of **f . The form itself is stored in the next available cells of the W-region , beginning in cell **f . The address **f and the number of cells required to store the form are written in **f ; the information cell **f is saved to represent the text occurrence . Text reading continues with the next occurrence . Let us assume that **f is identical to the form of an occurrence **f which preceded **f in the text . When this situation exists , the address **f will equal **f which was produced from **f . If **f was assigned as the information cell for **f , the routine can detect that **f is identical to **f by comparing **f with the form stored at location **f . The address **f is stored in the cell **f . When , as in this case , the two forms match , the address **f is saved to represent the occurrence **f . Text reading continues with the next occurrence . A third situation is possible . The formula for computing random addresses from the form of each occurrence will not give a distinct address for each distinct form . Thus , when more than one distinct form leads to a particular cell in the X-region , a chain of information cells must be created to accommodate the forms , one cell in the chain for each form . If **f leads to an address **f that is equal to the address computed from **f , even though **f does not match **f , the chain of information cells is extended from **f by storing the address of the next available cell in the Y-region , **f , in **f . The cell **f becomes the second information cell in the chain and is assigned as the information cell of **f . A third cell can be added by storing the address of another Y-cell in **f ; similarly , as many cells are added as are required . Each information cell in the chain contains the address of the Y-cell where the form to which it is assigned is stored . Each cell except the last in the chain also contains the address of the Y-cell that is the next element of the chain ; the absence of such a link in the last cell indicates the end of the chain . Hence , when the address **f is computed from **f , the cell **f and all Y-cells in its chain must be inspected to determine whether **f is already in the form list or whether it should be added to the form list and the chain . When the information cell for **f has been determined , it is saved as a representation of **f . Text reading continues with the next occurrence . Text reading is terminated when a pre-determined number of forms have been stored in the text-form list . This initiates the second step of glossary lookup — connecting the information cell of forms in the text-form list to dictionary forms . Each form represented by the dictionary is looked up in the text-form list . Each time a dictionary form matches a text form , the information cell of the matching text form is saved . The number of dictionary forms skipped since the last one matched is also saved . These two pieces of information for each dictionary form that is matched by a text form constitute the table of dictionary usage . If each text form is marked when matched with a dictionary form , the text forms not contained in the dictionary can be identified when all dictionary forms have been read . The appropriate action for handling these forms can be taken at that time . Each dictionary form is looked up in the text-form list by the same method used to look up a new text occurrence in the form list during text reading . A random address **f that lies within the X-region of memory mentioned earlier is computed from the i-th dictionary form . If cell **f is an information cell , it and any information cells in the Y-region that have been linked to **f each contain an address in the W-region where a potentially matching form is stored . The dictionary form is compared with each of these text forms . When a match is found , an entry is made in the table of dictionary usage . If cell **f is not an information cell we conclude that the i-th dictionary form is not in the text list . These two steps essentially complete the lookup operation . The final step merely uses the table of dictionary usage to select the dictionary information that pertains to each form matched in the text-form list , and uses the list of information cells recorded in text order to attach the appropriate information to each occurrence in text . The list of text forms in the W-region of memory and the contents of the information cells in the X and Y-regions are no longer required . Only the assignment of the information cells is important . The first stage of translation after glossary lookup is structural analysis of the input text . The grammatical description of each occurrence in the text must be retrieved from the dictionary to permit such an analysis . A description of this process will serve to illustrate how any type of information can be retrieved from the dictionary and attached to each text occurrence . The grammatic descriptions of all forms in the dictionary are recorded in a separate part of the dictionary file . The order is identical to the ordering of the forms they describe . When entries are being retrieved from this file , the table of dictionary usage indicates which entries to skip and which entries to store in the computer . This selection-rejection process takes place as the file is read . Each entry that is selected for storage is written into the next available cells of the W-region . The address of the first cell and the number of cells used is written in the information cell for the form . ( The address of the information cell is also supplied by the table of dictionary usage . ) When the complete file has been read , the grammatic descriptions for all text forms found in the dictionary have been stored in the W-region ; the information cell assigned to each text form contains the address of the grammatic description of the form it represents . Hence , the description of each text occurrence can be retrieved by reading the list of text-ordered information-cell addresses and outputting the description indicated by the information cell for each occurrence . The only requirements on dictionary information made by the text-lookup operation are that each form represented by the dictionary be available for lookup in the text-form list and that information for each form be available in a sequence identical with the sequence of the forms . This leaves the ordering of entries variable . ( Here an entry is a form plus the information that pertains to it . ) Two very useful ways for modifying a form-dictionary are the addition to the dictionary of complete paradigms rather than single forms and the application of a single change to more than one dictionary form . The former is intended to decrease the amount of work necessary to extend dictionary coverage . The latter is useful for modifying information about some or all forms of a word , hence reducing the work required to improve dictionary contents . Applying the techniques developed at Harvard for generating a paradigm from a representative form and its classification , we can add all forms of a word to the dictionary at once . An extension of the principle would permit entering a grammatic description of each form . Equivalents could be assigned to the paradigm either at the time it is added to the dictionary or after the word has been studied in context . Thus , one can think of a dictionary entry as a word rather than a form . If all forms of a paradigm are grouped together within the dictionary , a considerable reduction in the amount of information required is possible . For example , the inflected forms of a word can be represented , insofar as regular inflection allows , by a stem and a set of endings to be attached . ( Indeed , the set of endings can be replaced by the name of a set of endings . ) The full forms can be derived from such information just prior to the lookup of the form in the text-form list . Similarly , if the equivalents for the forms of a word do not vary , the equivalents need be entered only once with an indication that they apply to each form . The dictionary system is in no way dependent upon such summarization or designed around it . When irregularity and variation prevent summarizing , information is written in complete detail . Entries are summarized only when by doing so the amount of information retained in the dictionary is reduced and the time required for dictionary operations is decreased . In sentences , patterns of stress are determined by complex combinations of influences that can only be suggested here . The tendency is toward putting dominant stress at the end . There is a parallel to this tendency in the assignment of time in long-known hymn tunes . Thus the first lines of one of Charles Wesley 's hymns are as follows . " A charge to keep I have , A God to glorify " . In the tune to which this hymn is most often sung , " Boylston " , the syllables have and fy , ending their lines , have twice the time any other syllables have . Dominant stress is of course more than extended duration , and normally centers on syllables that would have primary stress or phrase stress if the words or longer units they are parts of were spoken alone : a dominant stress given to glorify would normally center on its first syllable rather than its last . But the parallel is significant . When the answer to what 's wrong now ? is Bill 's broken a chair , dominant stress will usually be on the complement a chair . From the point of view of syntactic analysis the head word in the statement is the predicator has broken , and from the point of view of meaning it would seem that the trouble centers in the breaking ; but dominant stress will be assigned to broken only in rather exceptional versions of the sentence . In I know one thing dominant stress will usually be on the complement one thing ; in one thing I know it will usually be on the predicator know . In small-town people are very friendly dominant stress will generally be on the complement very friendly ; in the double sentence the smaller the town , the friendlier the people it will generally be on the subjects the town and the people . In what 's a linguist ? dominant stress will generally be on the subject a linguist ; in who 's a linguist ? it will generally be on the complement a linguist . Dominant stress is on her luggage both in that 's her luggage , where her luggage is the complement , and in there 's her luggage , where it is the subject . Adverbial second complements , however , are likely not to have dominant stress when they terminate sentences . If the answer to what was that noise ? is George put the cat out , dominant stress will ordinarily be on the first complement , the cat , not the second complement out . Final adjuncts may or may not have dominant stress . If the answer to what was that noise ? is George reads the news emotionally , dominant stress may or may not be on the adjunct emotionally . When prepositional complements are divided as in what are you looking for ? they are likely to lose dominant stress . Context is of extreme importance . What is new in the context is likely to be made more prominent than what is not . Thus in a context in which there has been discussion of snow but mention of local conditions is new , dominant stress will probably be on here in it rarely snows here , but in a context in which there has been discussion of local weather but no mention of snow , dominant stress will probably be on snows . The personal pronouns and substitute one are normally unstressed because they refer to what is prominent in the immediate context . In I 'll go with George dominant stress is probably on George ; but if George has just been mentioned prominently ( and the trip to be made has been under discussion ) , what is said is probably I 'll go with him , and dominant stress is probably on the preposition with . When a gesture accompanies who 's he ? the personal pronoun has dominant stress because " he " has not been mentioned previously . If both George and a piece of information George does not have are prominent in the context , but the idea of telling George is new , then dominant stress will probably be on tell in why not tell George ? But when what is new in a particular context is also fairly obvious , there is normally only light stress or no stress at all . Thus the unstressed it of it rarely snows here gets its significance from its use with snows : nothing can snow snow but " it " . In there are n't many young people in the neighborhood the modifier young takes dominant stress away from its head people : the fact that the young creatures of interest are people seems rather obvious . If women replaced people , it would normally have dominant stress . In I have things to do the word things makes little real contribution to meaning and has weaker stress than do . If work is substituted for things ( with more exact contribution to meaning ) , it will have dominant stress . In I know one thing dominant stress is likely to go to one rather than to semantically pale thing . In I knew you when you were a child , and you were pretty then dominant stress on then implies that the young woman spoken to is still pretty . Dominant stress on pretty would be almost insulting here . In the written language then can be underlined or italicized to guide the reader here , but much of the time the written language simply depends on the reader 's alertness , and a careless reader will have to back up and reread . Often dominant stress simply indicates a centering of attention or emotion . Thus in it 's incredible what that boy can eat dominant stress is likely to be on incredible , and eat will have strong stress also . In she has it in for George dominant stress will ordinarily be on in , where the notion of stored-up antipathy seems to center . In we 're painting at our garage strong stress on at indicates that the job being done is not real painting but simply an effort at painting . Where there is comparison or contrast dominant stresses normally operate to center attention . Thus in his friends are stranger than his sisters ' strong stresses are normal for his and sisters ' , but in his friends are stranger than his sisters strong stresses are normal for friends and sisters . In he 's hurting himself more than he 's hurting you both himself and you have stronger stress than they would ordinarily have if there were no contrast . In is she Chinese or Japanese ? the desire to contrast the first parts of words which are alike in their last components produces an exceptional disregard of the normal patterns of stress of Chinese and Japanese . Sometimes strong stress serves to focus an important secondary relationship . Thus in Mary wrote an account of the trip first strong stress on Mary marks Mary as the first in a series of people who wrote accounts of the trip , strong stress on wrote marks the writing as the first of a series of actions of Mary 's concerned with an account of her trip ( about which she may later have made speeches , for example ) , and strong stress on trip makes the trip the first of a series of subjects about which Mary wrote accounts . In hunger stimulates man too the situation is very similar . Strong stress on hunger treats hunger as an additional stimulus , strong stress on stimulates treats stimulation as an additional effect of hunger , strong stress on man treats man as an additional creature who responds to the stimulation of hunger . Here again , in the written language it is possible to help the reader get his stresses right by using underlining or italics , but much of the time there is simply reliance on his understanding in the light of context . When a word represents a larger construction of which it is the only expressed part , it normally has more stress than it would have in fully expressed construction . Thus when yes , I have is the response to have you finished reading the paper ? the stress on have , which here represents have finished reading the paper , is quite strong . In Mack 's the leader at camp , but Jack is here the is of the second main declarative represents is the leader and therefore has stress . Mack 's the leader at camp , but Jack 's here , with this is deprived of stress , makes here the complement in the clause . In of all the suggestions that were made , his was the silliest the possessive his represents his suggestion and is stressed . When go represents itself and a complement ( being equivalent , say , to go to Martinique ) in which boat did Jack go on ? it has strong stress ; when it represents only itself and on which is its complement ( so that go on is semantically equivalent to board ) , on has stronger stress than go does . Omission of a subordinator pronoun , however , does not result in an increase in stress on a prepositional adverb for which the subordinator pronoun would be object . Thus to has light stress both in that was the conclusion that I came to and in that was the conclusion I came to . But when to represents to consciousness in that was the moment that I came to , and similarly in that was the moment I came to , there is much stronger stress on to . In I wanted to tell him , but I was afraid to the final to is lightly stressed because it represents to tell him . In to tell him , of course , to is normally unstressed . When I have instructions to leave is equivalent in meaning to I have instructions that I am to leave this place , dominant stress is ordinarily on leave . When the same sequence is equivalent in meaning to I have instructions which I am to leave , dominant stress is ordinarily on instructions . It is clear that patterns of stress sometimes show construction unambiguously in the spoken language where without the help of context it would be ambiguous in the written . Other examples follow . " I 'll come by Tuesday . I ca n't be happy long without drinking water " . In the first of these sentences if by is the complement of come and Tuesday is an adjunct of time equivalent to on Tuesday , there will be strong stress on by in the spoken language ; but if a complement for come is implied and by Tuesday is a prepositional unit used as an adjunct , by will be unstressed or lightly stressed at most . In the second sentence if drinking water is a gerundial clause and without drinking water is roughly equivalent in meaning to unless I drink water , there will be stronger stress on water than on drinking ; but if drinking is a gerundial noun modifying water and without drinking water is equivalent to without water for drinking , there will be stronger stress on drinking than on water . But the use of stress in comparison and contrast , for example , can undermine distinctions such as these . And patterns of stress are not always unambiguous by any means . In the Steiners have busy lives without visiting relatives only context can indicate whether visiting relatives is equivalent in meaning to paying visits to relatives or to relatives who are visiting them , and in I looked up the number and I looked up the chimney only the meanings of number and chimney make it clear that up is syntactically a second complement in the first sentence and a preposition followed by its object in the second . SYLLABIFICATION . - Syllables are linguistic units centering in peaks which are usually vocalic but , as has been noted , are consonantal under certain circumstances , and which may or may not be combined with preceding and/or following consonants or combinations of consonants . Syllables are genuine units , but division of words and sentences into them presents great difficulties . Sometimes even the number of syllables is not clear . Doubt on this point is strongest before /l/ and / / or /r/ . From the point of view of word formation real might be expected to have two syllables . Historically re is the formative that is employed also in republic , and al is the common suffix . When ity is added , real clearly has two syllables . But there is every reason to regard deal as a monosyllable , and because of the fact that /l/ commonly has the quality of / / when it follows vowel sounds , deal seems to be a perfectly satisfactory rhyme with real . It is obvious enough that linguists in general have been less successful in coping with tone systems than with consonants or vowels . No single explanation is adequate to account for this . Improvement , however , is urgent , and at least three things will be needed . The first is a wide-ranging sample of successful tonal analyses . Even beginning students in linguistics are made familiar with an appreciable variety of consonant systems , both in their general outlines and in many specific details . An advanced student has read a considerable number of descriptions of consonantal systems , including some of the more unusual types . By contrast , even experienced linguists commonly know no more of the range of possibilities in tone systems than the over-simple distinction between register and contour languages . This limited familiarity with the possible phenomena has severely hampered work with tone . Tone analysis will continue to be difficult and unsatisfactory until a more representative selection of systems is familar to every practicing field linguist . Papers like these four , if widely read , will contribute importantly to improvement of our analytic work . The second need is better field techniques . The great majority of present-day linguists fall into one or more of a number of overlapping types : those who are convinced that tone can not be analysed , those who are personally scared of tone and tone languages generally , those who are convinced that tone is merely an unnecessary marginal feature in those languages where it occurs , those who have no idea how to proceed with tone analysis , those who take a simplistic view of the whole matter . The result has been neglect , fumbling efforts , or superficial treatment . As these maladies overlap , so must the cure . Analyses such as these four will simultaneously combat the assumptions that tone is impossible and that it is simple . They will give suggestions that can be worked up into field procedures . Good field techniques will not only equip linguists for better work , but also help them overcome negative attitudes . Actually , none of these papers says much directly about field techniques . But it is worth pondering that very little has been published on any phase of field techniques in linguistics . These things have been disseminated by other means , but always in the wake of extensive publication of analytic results . The third need is for better theory . We should expect that general phonologic theory should be as adequate for tone as for consonants and vowels , but it has not been . This can only be for one of two reasons : either the two are quite different and will require totally different theory ( and hence techniques ) , or our existing theories are insufficiently general . If , as I suspect , the problem is largely of the second sort , then development of a theory better able to handle tone will result automatically in better theory for all phonologic subsystems . One issue that must be faced is the relative difficulty of analysis of different phonologic subsystems . Since tone systems typically comprise fewer units than either consonant or vowel systems , we might expect that they would be the easiest part of a phonologic analysis . Actual practice does not often work out this way . Tone systems are certainly more complex than the number of units would suggest , and often analytically more difficult than much larger consonantal systems . Welmers has suggested one explanation . Tone languages use for linguistic contrasts speech parameters which also function heavily in nonlinguistic use . This may both divert the attention of the uninitiate and cause confusion for the more knowledgeable . The problem is to disentangle the linguistic features of pitch from the co-occurring nonlinguistic features . Of course , something of the same sort occurs with other sectors of the phonology : consonantal articulations have both a linguistic and an individual component . But in general the individual variation is a small thing added onto basic linguistic features of greater magnitude . With tone , individual differences may be greater than the linguistic contrasts which are superimposed on them . Pitch differences from one speaker to another , or from one emotional state to another , may far exceed the small differences between tones . However , any such suggestion accounts for only some of the difficulties in hearing tone , or in developing a realistic attitude about tone , but not for the analytic difficulties that occur even when tone is meticulously recorded . A second explanation is suggested by the material described in Rowlands ' paper . Tone and intonation often become seriously intermeshed . Neither can be adequately systematized until we are able to separate the two and assign the observed phenomena individually to one or the other . Other pairs of phonologic subsystems also interact or overlap in this way ; for example , duration sometimes figures in both the vowel system and the intonation . Some phonetic features , for example glottal catch or murmur , are sometimes to be assigned to segmental phonemics and sometimes to accentual systems . But no other two phonologic systems are as difficult to disentangle as are tone and intonation in some languages . This explanation of tone difficulties , however , does not apply in all languages . In some ( the Ewe type mentioned above ) interaction of tone and intonation is restricted to the ends of intonation spans . In many of the syllables , intonation can be safely ignored , and much of the tonal analysis can be done without any study of intonation . Still , even in such languages tone analysis has not been as simple as one might expect . A third explanation is suggested by Richardson 's analysis of Sukuma tone . There we see a basically simple phonemic system enmeshed in a very complex and puzzling morphophonemic system . While the phonemes can be very easily stated , no one is likely to be satisfied with the statement until phonemic occurrences can be related in some way to morphemic units , i.e. until the morphophonemics is worked out , or at least far enough that it seems reasonable to expect success . In the " typical tone language " , tonal morphophonemics is of the same order of complexity as consonantal morphophonemics . The phonemic systems which must support these morphophonemic systems , however , are very different . The inventory of tones is much smaller , and commonly the contrasts range along one single dimension , pitch level . Consonantal systems are not merely larger , they are multidimensional . Morphophonemic rules may be thought of as joining certain points in the system . The possibilities in the consonantal system are very numerous , and only a small portion of them are actually used . Phonemes connected by a morphophonemic rule commonly show a good bit of phonetic similarity , possible because of the several dimensions of contrast in the system . Tonal morphophonemics , in a common case , can do nothing but either raise or lower the tone . The possibilities are few , and the total number of rules may be considerably greater . Often , therefore , there are a number of rules having the same effect , and commonly other sets of rules as well , having the opposite effect . Tonal morphophonemics is much more confusing to the beginning analyst than consonantal morphophonemics , even when the total number of rules is no greater . The difficulty of analysis of any subsystem in the phonology is an inverse function of the size — smaller systems are more troublesome — for any given degree of morphophonemic complexity . This hypothesis will account for a large part of the difficulties of tonal analysis , as well as the fact that vowel systems are often more puzzling than consonantal systems . The statement of the system is a different matter . Smaller systems can of course be stated much more succinctly . A phonemic system can be stated without reference to morphophonemics , but it can not always be found without morphophonemics . And the more complex the morphophonemic system is in relation to the phonemic base , the less easily a phonemic system will be analysed without close attention to the morphophonemics — at least , the less satisfying will a phonemic statement be if it can not be related through morphophonemic rules to grammatically meaningful structures . The design of orthographies has received much less attention from linguists than the problem deserves . There has been a tendency on the part of many American linguists to assume that a phonemic transcription will automatically be the best possible orthography and that the only real problem will then be the social one of securing acceptance . This seems naive . Most others have been content to give only the most general attention to the broadest and most obvious features of the phonology when designing orthographies . Apparently the feeling is that anything more would be involvement in technical abstrusenesses of possible pedantic interest but of no visible significance in practical affairs . The result of this attitude has been the domination of many orthography conferences by such considerations as typographic 'esthetics ' , which usually turns out to be nothing more than certain prejudices carried over from European languages . Many of the suggested systems seem to have only the most tenuous relationship to the language structures that they purport to represent . Linguists have not always been more enlightened than " practical people " and sometimes have insisted on incredibly trivial points while neglecting things of much greater significance . As a result , many people have been confirmed in their conviction that orthography design is not an activity to which experts can contribute anything but confusion . A. E. Sharp , in Vowel-Length and Syllabicity in Kikuyu , examines one set of related orthographic questions and its phonologic background in detail . His objective is merely to determine " what distinctions of length and syllabicity it may be desirable to make explicit in a Kikuyu orthography " ( 59 ) . To do so , he finds it necessary to examine the relevant parts of the phonology thoroughly and in detail . In the process , he develops some very significant observations about problems of a sort that are often difficult . A few of his examples are of very great interest , and the whole discussion of some importance for theory . His orthographic recommendations are no simplistic acceptance of phonemics on the one hand or of superficiality on the other . Rather he weighs each phonologic fact in the light of its orthographic usefulness . He concludes that some changes can made in the current orthography which will appreciably improve its usefulness , but hesitates to suggest precise graphic devices to effect these changes . I hope his suggestions are given the consideration they deserve in Kikuyu circles . This , however , will not exhaust their practical usefulness , as they rather clearly indicate what thorough phonologic investigation can contribute to orthography design . We need many more studies of this sort if the design of written languages is to be put on a sound basis . One other paper deals with a phonologic problem : Vowel Harmony in Igbo , by J. Carnochan . This restates the already widely known facts in terms of prosodies . As a restatement it makes only a small contribution to knowledge of Igbo . But it would seem more intended as a tract advocating the prosodic theory than a paper directed to the specific problems of Igbo phonology . The paper has a certain value as a comparatively easy introduction to this approach , particularly since it treats a fairly simple and straightforward phenomenon where it is possible to compare it with a more traditional ( though not structural ) statement . It does show one feature of the system that has not been previously described . But it does not , as it claims , demonstrate that this could not be treated by traditional methods . It seems to me that it rather easily can . Five of the papers deal with grammatical problems . On the whole they maintain much the same high standard , but they are much more difficult to discuss in detail because of their wider variety of subject matter . My comments must be briefer than the papers deserve . W. H. Whiteley writes on The Verbal Radical in Iraqw . This must be considered primarily an amendment and supplement to his early A short Description of Item-Categories in Iraqw . It exhibits much the same descriptive technique and is open to much the same criticisms . The treatment seems unnecessarily loose-jointed and complex , largely because the method is lax and the analysis seems never to be pushed to a satisfactory or even a consistent stopping-point . There are more stems per item in Athabascan , which expresses the fact that the Athabascan languages have undergone somewhat more change in diverging from proto-Athabascan than the Yokuts languages from proto-Yokuts . This may be because the Athabascan divergence began earlier ; or again because the Athabascan languages spread over a very much larger territory ( including three wholly separated areas ) ; or both . The differentiation however is not very much greater , as shown by the fact that Athabascan shows 3.46 stems per meaning slot as against 2.75 for Yokuts , with a slightly greater number of languages represented in our sample : 24 as against 21 . ( On deduction of one-eighth from 3.46 , the stem/item rate becomes 3.03 against 2.75 in equivalent number of languages . ) These general facts are mentioned to make clear that the total situation in the two families is similar enough to warrant comparison . The greatest difference in the two sets of figures is due to differences in the two sets of lists used . These differences in turn result from the fact that my Yokuts vocabularies were built up of terms selected mainly to insure unambiguity of English meaning between illiterate informants and myself , within a compact and uniform territorial area , but that Hoijer 's vocabulary is based on Swadesh 's second glottochronological list which aims at eliminating all items which might be culturally or geographically determined . Swadesh in short was trying to develop a basic list that was universal ; I , one that was specifically adapted to the San Joaquin Valley . The result is that I included 70 animal names , but Swadesh only 4 ; and somewhat similarly for plants , 16 as against 4 . Swadesh , and therefore Hoijer , felt compelled to omit all terms denoting species or even genera ( fox , vulture , salmon , yellow pine , manzanita ) ; their classes of animal and plant terms are restricted to generalizations or recurrent parts ( fish , bird , tree , grass , horn , tail , bark , root ) . The groups are therefore really non-comparable in content as well as in size . Other classes are included only by myself ( interrogatives , adverbs ) or only by Swadesh and Hoijer ( pronouns , demonstratives ) . What we have left as reasonably comparable are four classes : ( 1 ) body parts and products , which with a proportionally nearly even representation ( 51 terms out of 253 , 25 out of 100 ) come out with nearly even ratios ; 2.6 and 2.7 ; ( 2 ) Nature ( 29 terms against 17 ) , ratios 3.3 versus 4.1 ; ( 3 ) adjectives ( 16 , 15 terms ) , ratios 3.9 versus 4.7 ; ( 4 ) verbs ( 9 , 22 terms ) , ratios 4.0 versus 3.4 . It will be seen that where the scope is similar , the Athabascan ratios come out somewhat higher ( as indeed they ought to with a total ratio of 2.8 as against 3.5 or 4:5 ) except for verbs , where alone the Athabascan ratio is lower . This exception may be connected with Hoijer 's use of a much higher percentage of verbs : 22% of his total list as against 3.5% in mine . Or the exception may be due to a particular durability peculiar to the Athabascan verb . More word class ratios determined in more languages will no doubt ultimately answer the question . 5 . If word classes differ in their resistance or liability to stem replacement within meaning slot , it is conceivable that individual meanings also differ with fair consistence trans-lingually . Hoijer 's Athabascan and my Yokuts share 71 identical meanings ( with allowance for several near-synonyms like stomach-belly , big-large , long-far , many-much , die-dead , say-speak ) . For Yokuts , I tabulated these 71 items in five columns , according as they were expressed by 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , and more than 4 stems . The totals for these five categories are not too uneven , namely 20 , 15 , 11 , 16 , 9 respectively . For Athabascan , with a greater range of stems , the first two of five corresponding columns were identical , 1 and 2 stems ; the three others had to be spread somewhat , and are headed respectively **f ; **f ; and **f stems . While the particular limits of these groupings may seem artificially arbitrary ; they do fairly express a corresponding grouping of more variable material , and they eventuate also in five classes , along a similar scale , containing approximately equal numbers of cases , namely 19 , 14 , 15 , 11 , 12 in Athabascan . When now we count the frequency of the 71 items in the two language families appearing in the same column or grade , or one column or grade apart , or two or three or four , we find these differences : **f This distribution can be summarized by averaging the distance in grades apart : **f ; which , divided by **f gives a mean of 1.07 grades apart . If the distribution of the 71 items were wholly concordant in the two families , the distance would of course be 0 . If it were wholly random and unrelated , it would be 2.0 , assuming the five classes were equal in n , which approximately they are . The actual mean of 1.07 being about halfway between 0 of complete correlation and 2.0 of no correlation , it is evident that there is a pretty fair degree of similarity in the behavior even of particular INDIVIDUAL items of meaning as regards long-term stem displacement . 6 . In 1960 , David D. Thomas published Basic Vocabulary in some Mon-Khmer Languages AL 2 , no. 3 , pp. 7-11 ) , which compares 8 Mon-Khmer languages with the I-E language data on which Swadesh based the revised retention rate ( **f ) in place of original ( **f ) , and his revised 100 word basic glottochronological list in Towards Greater Accuracy … ( IJAL 21:121-137 ) . Thomas ' findings are , first , " that the individual items vary greatly and unpredictably in their persistence " ; but , second , " that the semantic groups are surprisingly unvarying in their average persistence " ( as between M-K and I-E . His first conclusion , on behavior of individual items , is negative , whereas mine ( on Ath. and Yok. ) was partially positive . His second conclusion , on semantic word classes , agrees with mine . This second conclusion , independently arrived at by independent study of material from two pairs of language families as different and remote from one another as these four are , can not be ignored . Thomas also presents a simple equation for deriving an index of persistence , which weights not only the number of stems ( 'roots ' ) per meaning , but their relative frequency . Thus his persistence values for some stem frequencies per meaning is : stem identical in 8 languages , 100% ; stem frequencies 7 and 1 , 86% ; stem frequencies 4 and 4 , 64% ; stem frequencies 4 , 3 , and 1 , 57% . His formula will have to be weighed , may be altered or improved , and it should be tested on additional bodies of material . But consideration of the frequency of stems per constant meaning seems to be established as having significance in comparative situations with diachronic and classificatory relevance ; and Gleason presumably is on the way with a further contribution in this area . As to relative frequencies of competing roots ( 7-1 vs. 4-4 , etc . ) , Thomas with his 'weighting' seems to be the first to have considered the significance this might have . The problem needs further exploration . I was at least conscious of the distinction in my full Yokuts presentation that awaits publication , in which , in listing 'Two-Stem Meanings ' , I set off by asterisks those forms in which n of stem B was **f of stem A/3 , the unasterisked ones standing for **f ; or under 'Four Stems ' , I set off by asterisks cases where the combined n of stems **f was **f . 7 . These findings , and others which will in time be developed , will affect the method of glottochronological inquiry . If adjectival meanings show relatively low retentiveness of stems , as I am confident will prove to be the case in most languages of the world , why should our basic lists include 15 per cent of these unstable forms , but only 8 per cent of animals and plants which replace much more slowly ? Had Hoijer substituted for his 15 adjectival slots 15 good animal and plant items , his rate of stem replacement would have been lower and the age of Athabascan language separation smaller . And irrespective of the outcome in centuries elapsed since splitting , calculations obviously carry more concordant and comparable meaning if they deal with the most stable units than with variously unstable ones . It is evident that Swadesh has not only had much experience with basic vocabulary in many languages but has acquired great tact and feeling for the expectable behavior of lexical items . Why then this urge to include unstable items in his basic list ? It is the urge to obtain a list as free of geographical and cultural conditioning as possible . And why that insistence ? It is the hope of attaining a list of items of UNIVERSAL occurrence . But it is becoming increasingly evident that such a hope is a snare . Not that such a list can not be constructed ; but the nearer it comes to attaining universality , the less significant will it be linguistically . Its terms will tend to be labile or vague , and they will fit actual languages more and more badly . The practical operational problem of lexicostatistics is the establishment of a basic list of items of meaning against which the particular forms or terms of languages can be matched as the medium of comparison . The most important quality of the meanings is that they should be as definable as possible . In proportion as meanings are concrete , we can better rely on their being insulated and distinctive . An elephant or a fox or a swan or a cocopalm or a banana possess in unusually high degree this quality of obvious , common-sense , indubitable IDENTITY , as do an eye or tooth or nail . They isolate out easily , naturally , and unambiguously from the continuum of nature and existence ; and they should be given priority in the basic list as long as they continue to show these qualities . With the universal list as his weapon , Swadesh has extended his march of conquest farther and farther into the past , eight , ten , twelve millennia back . And he has proclaimed greater or less affiliation between all Western hemisphere languages . Some of this may prove to be true , or even considerable of it , whether by genetic ramification or by diffusion and coalescence . But the farther out he moves , the thinner will be his hold on conclusive evidence , and the larger the speculative component in his inferences . He has traversed provinces and kingdoms , but he has not consolidated them behind him , nor does he control them . He has announced results on Hokan , Penutian , Uto-Aztecan , and almost all other American families and phyla , and has diagrammed their degree of interrelation ; but he has not worked out by lexicostatistics one comprehensively complete classification of even a single family other than Salish . That is his privilege . The remote , cloudy , possible has values of its own — values of scope , stimulus , potential , and imagination . But there is also a firm aspect to lexicostatistics : the aspect of learning the internal organization of obvious natural genetic groups of languages as well as their more remote and elusive external links ; of classification first , with elapsed age merely a by-product ; of acquiring evidential knowledge of what happened in Athabascan , in Yokuts , in Uto-Aztecan in the last few thousand years as well as forecasting what more anciently may have happened between them . This involves step-by-step progress , and such will have to be the day-by-day work of lexicostatistics as a growing body of scientific inquiry . If of the founders of glottochronology Swadesh has escaped our steady plodding , and Lees has repudiated his own share in the founding , that is no reason why we should swerve . 8 . There is no apparent reason why we should feel bound by Swadesh 's rules and procedure since his predilections and aims have grown so vast . It seems time to consider a revision of operational procedures for lexicostatistic studies on a more humble , solid , and limited basis . I would propose , first , an abandonment of attempts at a universal lexical list , as intrinsically unachievable , and operationally inadequate in proportion as it is achieved . I would propose , next , as the prime requirement for constitution of new basic lists , items whose forms show as high an empirical retention rate as possible . There would be no conceivable sense in going to the opposite extreme of selecting items whose forms are the most unstable . An attempted middle course might lead to devices like a 5000-word alphabetized dictionary from which every fiftieth word was selected . Doubtless it was inevitable that differences of opinion should arise about the methods for applying these policies . It was nevertheless almost incredible that four years after Yalta there should be a complete split over Germany , with hot heads on both sides planning to use the Germans against their former allies , and with Nazi-minded Germans expecting to recover their power by fighting on one side or the other . 5 . POLAND FRONTIERS . When the Yalta Conference opened , the American policy of postponing all discussion of Russia 's western boundaries until the peace conference had broken down . Starting in great force late in December , from a line stretching from East Prussia to Budapest , the Red armies had swept two hundred miles across Poland to the Oder , thirty miles from Berlin , and the Upper Danube region was being rapidly overrun , while the Western Allies had not yet occupied all of the left bank of the Rhine . The long delay in opening the Second Front was now working to Russia 's advantage . The West was now glad to propose the 1919 Curzon Line , which was substantially Russia 's 1941 border , as the boundary between Russia and Poland . When this proposal was made , Stalin spoke with stronger emotion than at any other time during the Conference . He stood up to emphasize his strong feeling on the subject . The bitter memory of Russia 's exclusion from the Paris Peace Conference and of the West 's effort to stamp out Bolshevism at its birth boiled up within him . " You would drive us into shame " , he declared . The White Russians and the Ukrainians would say that Stalin and Molotov were far less reliable defenders of Russia than Curzon and Clemenceau . Yet after long and earnest discussion Stalin accepted the Curzon Line and even agreed voluntarily that there should be digressions from that line of five to eight kilometers in favor of Poland in some regions . He did not mind the Line itself , which Churchill declared in the House of Commons , on February 27 , 1945 , he had always believed to be " just and right " , but he did not want it called by a hated name . The West had long since forgotten the events of 1919 , but it was not so easy for the Red leaders , who felt that they had suffered great injustice in that period . In the Dunn-Atherton memorandum of February 4 , 1942 , the State Department had expected to be able to hold Russia in check by withholding agreement to her 1941 boundaries . Now Stalin made it clear that he meant to move Poland 's western borders deep into Germany , back to the western Neisse-Oder River lines , taking not only East Prussia and all of Silesia but Pomerania and the tip of Brandenburg , back to and including Stettin . From six to nine million additional Germans would be evicted , though most would have fled , and Poland would receive far more from Germany than the poor territories , including the great Pripet Marshes , which she lost to Russia . Stalin declared that he preferred to continue the war a little longer , " although it costs us blood " , in order to give Poland compensation in the West at the expense of the Germans . By this time Churchill was not so cordial toward moving Poland westward as he had been at Teheran , where he and Eden had both heartily approved the idea . After " a prolonged study of the Oder line on a map " , at Teheran , Churchill " liked the picture " . He would tell the Poles , he said , that they had been " given a fine place to live in , more than three hundred miles each way " . At Yalta he thought more about the six million Germans who would have to leave , trying to find work in Germany , and Roosevelt objected to the Western Neisse River being chosen in the south , instead of the Eastern Neisse , both of which flow into the Oder . The issue was left in abeyance , presumably for the peace conference . However , there was no real question of the justice of creating a strong Poland , both industrially and agriculturally , and one unplagued by large minorities of Germans or Russians . The moving of millions of the German master-race , from the very heart of Junkerdom , to make room for the Polish Slavs whom they had enslaved and openly planned to exterminate was a drastic operation , but there was little doubt that it was historically justified . GOVERNMENT . Of more importance to the West than Poland 's boundaries was the character of her government . At Yalta the West still believed that Eastern Europe could be kept in its orbit , in spite of the onrushing Soviet armies . Though little democracy had ever been practised in this region , and much of it was still ruled by feudalistic means , it was taken for granted that at least the forms of Western democracy would be established in this area and Western capitalism preserved within it . Believing devoutly as they did in Anglo-Saxon institutions , it was important to both Roosevelt and Churchill that the Poles should have them . The issue was acute because the exiled Polish Government in London , supported in the main by Britain , was still competing with the new Lublin Government formed behind the Red Army . More time was spent in trying to marry these imcompatibles than over any subject discussed at Yalta . The result was an agreement that the Lublin Government should be " reorganized on a broader democratic basis with the inclusion of democratic leaders from Poland itself and from the Poles abroad " , and pledged to hold " free and unfettered elections as soon as possible on the basis of universal suffrage and secret ballot " . All " democratic and anti-Nazi parties " were to have the right to campaign . Roosevelt acted as moderator of the long debate on this issue . It was a matter of principle with Churchill , since Britain had declared war in behalf of Poland . To Stalin it was a matter of life and death . He made this completely clear . Speaking with " great earnestness " , he said : " For the Russian people , the question of Poland is not only a question of honor but also a question of security . Throughout history , Poland has been the corridor through which the enemy has passed into Russia . Twice in the last thirty years our enemies , the Germans , have passed through this corridor . It is in Russia 's interest that Poland should be strong and powerful , in a position to shut the door of this corridor by her own force … . It is necessary that Poland should be free , independent in power . Therefore , it is not only a question of honor but of life and death for the Soviet state " . In other words , the Soviet Union was determined to create a Poland so strong as to be a powerful bulwark against Germany and so closely tied to Russia that there would never be any question of her serving as a cordon sanitaire against the Soviets or posing as an independent , balancing power in between Russia and Germany . Byrnes says that invariably thereafter the Soviets used the same security argument to justify their course in Poland . This reasoning was also as inevitable as anything could be . Any free elections that were to be held in Poland would have to produce a government in which Moscow had complete confidence , and all pressure from the West for free voting by anti-Soviet elements in Poland would be met by restrictions on voting by these elements . 6 . LIBERATED EUROPE In even greater degree the same rule applied to the remainder of Eastern Europe , where the upper classes had generally collaborated with the Nazis , even to the extent of sending millions of their peasants into Russia as a part of Hitler 's armies . But at Yalta the conflicting expectations of East and West were merged into an agreement by the Big Three to assist all liberated countries in Europe " to create democratic institutions of their own choice " . In any case " where in their judgment conditions require " [ italics added ] they would " form interim governmental authorities broadly representative of all democratic elements in the population and pledged to the earliest possible establishment through free elections of governments responsive to the will of the people " . Other similar affirmations in the Declaration on Liberated Europe seemed to assure democratic institutions on the Western model . Later it developed that the Soviets had a very different interpretation of democracy , which will be discussed later , and their judgment never told them that the Big Three should unite in establishing democratic conditions , as we understand them , within their zone of influence . Professor McNeill thinks that at Yalta , Stalin did not fully realize the dilemma which faced him , that he thought the exclusion of the anti-Soviet voters from East European elections would not be greatly resented by his allies , while neither Roosevelt nor Churchill frankly faced " the fact that , in Poland at least , genuinely free democratic elections would return governments unfriendly to Russia " , by any definition of international friendliness . Also war-time propaganda and cooperation had " obscured the differences between Russian and Western ideas of democracy " , and it seemed better to have them covered by verbal formulae than to imperil the military victories over Germany and Japan . The application of these formulae could not please both sides , for they really attempted to marry the impossible to the inevitable . While obliged to concede governments in East Europe allied with the Soviet Union instead of opposed to it , we thought we had preserved our social and economic system in East Europe . This illusion was described in a far-sighted editorial in the New York Herald Tribune , on March 5 , 1947 , in connection with the submission of the satellite peace treaties to the Senate . In doing so Marshall and Byrnes were " asking for the ratification of a grim lesson in the facts of international life " . We had entertained exaggerated ideas about our victory automatically establishing our system throughout the world . " We were troubled about the fate of the Baltic States . Yalta left us with comforting illusions of a Western capitalist-democratic political economy reigning supreme up to the Curzon line and the borders of Bessarabia " . [ Italics added . ] This is a penetrating description of our post-war illusion , which applied to other areas than East Europe . The same editorial continued that " We expected to democratize Japan and Korea and to see a new China pattern itself easily on our institutions . We expected , in short , that most of the world would make itself over in our image and that it would be relatively simple , from such a position , to deal with the localized aberrations of the Soviet Union " . Yet actually " the image corresponded in no way to the actualities of the post-war world . Neither our military , our economic nor our ideological power reached far enough " to determine the fate of East Europe . Then the editorial added prophetically : " how far they may reach in Asia is yet undetermined , but they fall far short of our dreams of the war conferences " . Here is the best short explanation of the origins of the Cold War that has been written . Failing to heed the lesson so clearly contained in the satellite treaties , President Truman re-declared the Cold War on March 12 , 1947 , in the Truman Doctrine , exactly one week after the Herald Tribune editorial was written , and a year after the Cold War had been announced by Churchill at Fulton , Missouri , in Truman 's presence . Then China promptly went Communist , and Mr. Truman had to fight the interminable Korean war for the democratization of Korea before we learned how far our writ did " reach in Asia " . Years of war , strain , and hatred ; of heavy arms expenditures and constant danger of another world war had to ensue before the United States could bring itself to accept the two chief results of World War /2 , — Communist control of East Europe and China . A NEW BALANCE OF POWER . While the Cold War raged it was easy to blame it all on Yalta . Yet , in summarizing a series of careful essays on the Yalta Conference , Forrest Pogue could find no basis for Yalta becoming " a symbol for betrayal and a shibboleth for the opponents of Roosevelt and international cooperation " . When the Yalta Papers were finally published with great fanfare they had revealed no betrayal by anyone . An analysis of the election falls naturally in four parts . First is the long and still somewhat obscure process of preparation , planning and discussion . Preparation began slightly more than a year after independence with the first steps to organize rural communes . All political interests supported electoral planning , although there are some signs that the inherent uncertainties of a popular judgment led to some procrastination . The second major aspect of the election is the actual procedure of registration , nomination and voting . Considerable technical skill was used and the administration of the elections was generally above reproach . However , the regionally differentiated results , which appear below in tables , are interesting evidence of the problems of developing self-government under even the most favorable circumstances . A third aspect , and probably the one open to most controversy , is the results of the election . The electoral procedure prevented the ready identification of party affiliation , but all vitally interested parties , including the government itself , were busily engaged in determining the party identifications of all successful candidates the month following the elections . The fourth and concluding point will be to estimate the long-run significance of the elections and how they figure in the current pattern of internal politics . Elections have figured prominently in nearly every government program and official address since independence . They were stressed in the speeches of Si Mubarak Bekkai when the first Council of Ministers was formed and again when the Istiqlal took a leading role in the second Council . King Muhammad /5 , was known to be most sympathetic to the formation of local self-government and made the first firm promise of elections on May Day , 1957 . There followed a long and sometimes bitter discussion of the feasibility of elections for the fall of 1957 , in which it appears that the Minister of the Interior took the most pessimistic view and that the Istiqlal was something less than enthusiastic . Since the complicated process of establishing new communes and reviewing the rudimentary plan left by the French did not even begin until the fall of 1957 , this goal appears somewhat ambitious . From the very beginning the electoral discussions raised fundamental issues in Moroccan politics , precisely the type of questions that were most difficult to resolve in the new government . Until the Charter of Liberties was issued in the fall of 1958 , there were no guarantees of the right to assemble or to organize for political purposes . The Istiqlal was still firmly united in 1957 , but the P.D.I. ( Parti Democratique de l'Independance ) , the most important minor party at the time , objected to the Istiqlal 's predominance in the civil service and influence in Radio Maroc . There were rumors that the Ministry of the Interior favored an arbitrary , " non-political " process , which were indirectly affirmed when the King personally intervened in the planned meetings . The day following his intervention the palace issued a statement reassuring the citizens that " … the possibility of introducing appeals concerning the establishment of electoral lists , lists of candidates and finally the holding of the consultation itself … " would be supported by the King himself . The Ifni crisis in the fall of 1957 postponed further consideration of elections , but French consultants were called in and notices of further investigation appeared from time to time . In January , 1958 , the Minister of the Interior announced that an election law was ready to be submitted to the King , the rumors of election dates appeared once again , first for spring of 1958 and later for the summer . Although the government was probably prepared for elections by mid-1958 , the first decision was no doubt made more difficult as party strife multiplied . In late 1957 the M.P . ( Mouvement Populaire ) appeared and in the spring of 1958 the internal strains of the Istiqlal was revealed when the third Council of Government under Balafrej was formed without support from progressive elements in the party . The parties were on the whole unprepared for elections , while the people were still experiencing post-independence let-down and suffering the after effects of poor harvests in 1957 . Despite the internal and international crises that harassed Morocco the elections remained a central issue . They figured prominently in the Balafrej government of May , 1958 , which the King was reportedly determined to keep in office until elections could be held . But the eagerly sought " homogeneity " of the Balafrej Council of Government was never achieved as the Istiqlal quarreled over foreign policy , labor politics and economic development . By December , 1958 , when 'Abdallah Ibrahim became President of the Council , elections had even greater importance . They were increasingly looked upon as a means of establishing the new rural communes as the focus of a new , constructive national effort . To minimize the chances of repeating the Balafrej debacle the Ibrahim government was formed a titre personnel and a special office was created in the Ministry of the Interior to plan and to conduct the elections . By this time there is little doubt but what election plans were complete . There remained only the delicate task of maneuvering the laws through the labyrinth of Palace politics and making a small number of policy decisions . From the rather tortuous history of electoral planning in Morocco an important point emerges concerning the first elections in a developing country and evaluating their results . In the new country the electoral process is considered as a means of resolving fundamental , and sometimes bitter , differences among leaders and also as a source of policy guidance . In the absence of a reservoir of political consensus each organized political group hopes that the elections will give them new prominence , but in a system where there is as yet no place for the less prominent . Lacking the respected and effective institutions that consensus helps provide , minority parties , such as the P.D.I. in 1957 and the progressive Istiqlal faction in 1958 , clamor for elections when out of power , but are not at all certain they wish to be controlled by popular choice when in power . Those in power tend to procrastinate and even to repudiate the electoral process . The tendency to treat elections as an instrument of self-interest rather than an instrument of national interest had two important effects on electoral planning in Morocco . At the central level the scrutin uninominal voting system was selected over some form of the scrutin de liste system , even though the latter had been recommended by Duverger and favored by all political parties . The choice of the single member district was dictated to a certain extent by problems of communication and understanding in the more remote areas of the country , but it also served to minimize the national political value of the elections . Although the elections were for local officials , it was not necessary to conduct the elections so as to prevent parties from publicly identifying their candidates . With multiple member districts the still fragmentary local party organizations could have operated more effectively and parties might have been encouraged to state their positions more clearly . Both parties and the Ministry of the Interior were busily at work after the elections trying to unearth the political affiliations of the successful candidates and , thereby , give the elections a confidential but known degree of national political significance . Since a national interpretation can not be avoided it is unfortunate that the elections were not held in a way to maximize party responsibility and the educational effect of mass political participation . The general setting of the Moroccan election may also encourage the deterioration of local party organization . The concentration of effective power in Rabat leads not only to party bickering , but to distraction from local activity that might have had many auxiliary benefits in addition to contributing to more meaningful elections . Interesting evidence can be found in the results of the Chamber of Commerce elections , which took place three weeks before national elections . The Istiqlal sponsored U.M.C.I.A. ( L'Union Marocaine des Commercants , Industrialistes et Artisans ) was opposed by candidates of the new U.N.F.P. ( L'Union National des Forces Populaires ) in nearly all urban centers . As the more conservative group with strong backing from wealthy businessmen , the U.M.C.I.A. was generally favored against the more progressive , labor-based U.N.F.P. The newer party campaigned heavily , while the older , more confident party expected the Moroccan merchants and small businessmen to support them as they had done for many years . The local Istiqlal and U.M.C.I.A. offices did not campaign and lost heavily . The value of the elections was lost , both as an experiment in increased political participation and as a reliable indicator of commercial interest , as shown in Table /1 , . The chamber of Commerce elections were , of course , an important event in the preparation for rural commune elections . The U.N.F.P. learned that its urban organization , which depends heavily on U.M.T. support , was most effective . The Istiqlal found that the spontaneous solidarity of the independence struggle was not easily transposed to the more concrete , precise problems of internal politics . The overall effect was probably to stimulate more party activity in the communal elections than might have otherwise taken place . A second major point of this essay is to examine the formal arrangements for the elections . Although a somewhat technical subject , it has important political implications as the above discussion of the voting system indicated . Furthermore , the problems and solutions devised in the electoral experiences of the rapidly changing countries are often of comparative value and essential to evaluating election results . The sine qua non of the elections was naturally an impartial and standardized procedure . As the background discussion indicated there were frequently expressed doubts that a government dominated by either party could fairly administer elections . The P.D.I. and later the Popular Movement protected the Istiqlal 's " privileged position " until the fall of Balafrej , and then the Istiqlal used the same argument , which it had previously ignored , against the pro-U.N.F.P. tendencies of the Ibrahim government . The bulk of the preparation had , of course , proceeded under the supervision of the Ministry of the Interior , whose officials are barred from party activity and probably generally disinterested in party politics . Apart from some areas of recurring trouble , like Bani Mellal , where inexperienced officials had been appointed , there is little evidence that local officials intervened in the electoral process . Centrally , however , the administrative problem was more complex and the sheer prestige of office was very likely an unfair advantage . The King decided to remove Ibrahim a week before elections and to institute a non-party Council of Government under his personal direction . Although the monarch had frequently asserted that the elections were to be without party significance , his action was an implicit admission that party identifications were a factor . The new Council was itself inescapably of political meaning , which was most clearly revealed in the absence of any U.N.F.P. members and the presence of several Istiqlal leaders . Since the details of the elections were settled the change of government had no direct effect on the technical aspects of the elections , and may have been more important as an indication of royal displeasure with the U.N.F.P. Voting preparations began in the fall of 1959 , although the actual demarcation and planning for the rural communes was completed in 1958 . There were three major administrative tasks : the fixing of electoral districts , the registration of voters and the registration of candidates . Voter registration began in late November 1959 and continued until early January , 1960 . The government was most anxious that there be a respectable response . Periodic bulletins of the accomplishment in each province made the registration process into a kind of competition among provincial officials . A goal was fixed , as given in Table 2 , and attention focused on its fulfillment . The qualifications to vote were kept very simple . Both men and women of twenty-one years of age could register and vote upon presenting proof of residence and identification . There were liberal provisions for dispensation where documents or records were lacking . The police were disqualified along with certain categories of naturalized citizens , criminals and those punished for Protectorate activities . The registration figures given in Table 2 must be interpreted with caution since the estimate for eligible electors were made without the benefit of a reliable census . Unemployed older workers who have no expectation of securing employment in the occupation in which they are skilled should be able to secure counseling and retraining in an occupation with a future . Some vocational training schools provide such training , but the current need exceeds the facilities . CURRENT PROGRAMS The present Federal program of vocational education began in 1917 with the passage of the Smith-Hughes Act , which provided a continuing annual appropriation of $7 million to support , on a matching basis , state-administered programs of vocational education in agriculture , trades , industrial skills and home economics . Since 1917 some thirteen supplementary and related acts have extended this Federal program . The George-Barden Act of 1946 raised the previous increases in annual authorizations to $29 million in addition to the $7 million under the Smith Act . The Health Amendment Act of 1956 added $5 million for practical nurse training . The latest major change in this program was introduced by the National Defense Education Act of 1958 , Title /8 , of which amended the George-Barden Act . Annual authorizations of $15 million were added for area vocational education programs that meet national defense needs for highly skilled technicians . The Federal program of vocational education merely provides financial aid to encourage the establishment of vocational education programs in public schools . The initiative , administration and control remain primarily with the local school districts . Even the states remain primarily in an assisting role , providing leadership and teacher training . Federal assistance is limited to half of the total expenditure , and the state or local districts must pay at least half . The state may decide to encourage local programs by paying half of the cost , or the state may require the local district to bear this half or some part of it . Throughout the history of the program , state government expenditures in the aggregate have usually matched or exceeded the Federal expenditures , while local districts all together have spent more than either Federal or state governments . Today , Federal funds account for only one-fifth of the nation 's expenditures for vocational education . The greatest impact of the matching-fund principle has been in initially encouraging the poorest states and school districts to spend enough to obtain their full allocation of outside funds . National defense considerations have been the major reason behind most Federal training expenditures in recent decades . During World War /2 , about 7.5 million persons were enrolled in courses organized under two special programs administered by state and local school authorities : ( 1 ) Vocational Education for National Defense , and ( 2 ) War Production Training . The total cost of the five-year program was $297 million . For the Smith-Hughes , George-Barden , and National Defense Act of 1958 , the cumulative total of Federal expenditures in 42 years was only about $740 million . No comparable measures are available of enrollments and expenditures for private vocational education training . There are a great number and variety of private commercial schools , trade schools and technical schools . In addition , many large corporations operate their own formal training programs . A recent study indicated that 85 per cent of the nation 's largest corporations conducted educational programs involving some class meetings and examinations . Most skilled industrial workers , nevertheless , still acquire their skills outside of formal training institutions . The National Manpower Council of Columbia University has estimated that three out of five skilled workers and one out of five technicians have not been formally trained . There is little doubt that the students benefit from vocational education . Employers prefer to hire youth with such training rather than those without , and most graduates of vocational training go to work in jobs related to their training . Vocational educators do not claim that school training alone makes skilled workers , but it provides the essential groundwork for developing skills . In most states , trade and industrial training is provided in a minority of the high schools , usually located in the larger cities . In Arkansas fewer than 6 per cent of the high schools offer trade and industrial courses . In Illinois about 13 per cent of the schools have programs , and in Pennsylvania 11 per cent . An important recent trend is the development of area vocational schools . For a number of years Kentucky , Louisiana and several other states have been building state-sponsored vocational education schools that serve nearby school districts in several counties . These schools are intended to provide the facilities and specialized curriculum that would not be possible for very small school districts . Transportation may be provided from nearby school districts . Courses are provided mainly for post high school day programs ; but sometimes arrangements also are made for high school students to attend , and evening extension courses also may be conducted . The Title /8 , program of the National Defense Education Act of 1958 was a great spur to this trend toward area schools . By 1960 there were such schools in all but 4 states . They were operating in 10 of the 17 major areas of chronic labor surplus and in 10 of the minor areas . An extension of this program into the other distressed areas should be undertaken . RELATION TO NEW INDUSTRY Some of this trend toward area vocational schools has been related to the problems of persistent labor surplus areas and their desire to attract new industry . The major training need of a new industrial plant is a short period of pre-employment training for a large number of semi-skilled machine operators . A few key skilled workers experienced in the company 's type of work usually must be brought in with the plant manager , or hired away from a similar plant elsewhere . A prospective industry also may be interested in the long-run advantages of training programs in the area to supply future skilled workers and provide supplementary extension courses for its employees . The existence of a public school vocational training program in trade and industry provides a base from which such needs can be filled . Additional courses can readily be added and special cooperative programs worked out with any new industry if the basic facilities , staff and program are in being . Thus , besides the training provided to youth in school , the existence of the school program can have supplementary benefits to industry which make it an asset to industrial development efforts . Few states make effective use of their existing vocational education programs or funds for the purpose of attracting new industry . The opportunity exists for states to reserve some of their vocational education funds to apply on an ad hoc flexible basis to subsidize any local preemployment training programs that my be quickly set up in a community to aid a new industrial plant . LOCAL FOCUS OF PROGRAMS The major weakness of vocational training programs in labor surplus areas is their focus on serving solely local job demands . This weakness is not unique to labor surplus areas , for it is inherent in the system of local school districts in this country . Planning of vocational education programs and courses is oriented to local employer needs for trained workers . All the manuals for setting up vocational courses stress the importance of first making a local survey of skill needs , of estimating the growth of local jobs , and of consulting with local employers on the types of courses and their content . Furthermore , there is a cautious conservatism on the part of those making local skill surveys . Local jobs can be seen and counted , while opportunities elsewhere are regarded as more hypothetical . While the U. S. Department of Labor has a program of projecting industry and occupational employment trends and publishing current outlook statements , there is little tangible evidence that these projections have been used extensively in local curriculum planning . The U. S. Office of Education continues to stress local surveys rather than national surveys . This procedure is extremely shortsighted in chronic labor surplus areas with a long history of declining employment . Elaborate studies have been made in labor surplus areas in order to identify sufficient numbers of local job vacancies and future replacement needs for certain skills to justify training programs for those skills . No effort is made in the same studies to present information on regional or national demand trends in these skills or to consider whether regional or national demands for other skills might provide much better opportunities for the youth to be trained . Moreover , the current information on what types of training are needed and possible is too limited and fragmentary . There simply is not enough material available on the types of job skills that are in demand and the types of training programs that are required or most suitable . Much of the available information comes not from the Federal government but from an exchange of experiences among states . PROPOSALS State and local agencies in the vocational education field must be encouraged to adopt a wider outlook on future job opportunities . There is a need for an expanded Federal effort to provide research and information to help guide state education departments and local school boards in existing programs . A related question is whether unemployed workers can be motivated to take the training provided . There is little evidence that existing public or private training programs have any great difficulty getting students to enroll in their programs , even though they must pay tuition , receive no subsistence payments , and are not guaranteed a job . However , there always is some limit to the numbers who will spend the time and effort to acquire training . Again , one major difficulty is the local focus . A training program in a depressed area may have few enrollees unless there is some apparent prospect for better employment opportunities afterwards , and the prospect may be poor if the training is aimed solely at jobs in the local community . If there is adequate information on job opportunities for skilled jobs elsewhere , many more workers can be expected to respond . Another problem is who will pay for the training . Local school districts are hard pressed financially and unenthusiastic about vocational training . Programs usually are expanded only when outside funds are available or local business leaders demand it . Even industrial development leaders find it hard to win local support for training unless a new industry is in sight and requests it . State governments have been taking the lead in establishing area vocational schools , but their focus is still on area job opportunities . Only the Federal government is likely to be able to take a long-run and nation-wide view and to pay for training to meet national skilled manpower needs . If only state funds were used to pay for the vocational education , it could be argued that the state should not have to bear the cost of vocational training which would benefit employers in other states . However , if Federal funds are used , it would be entirely appropriate to train workers for jobs which could be obtained elsewhere as well as for jobs in the area of chronic unemployment . Such training would increase the tendency of workers to leave the area and find jobs in other localities . A further possibility is suggested by the example of the G. I. bills and also by some recent trends in attitudes toward improving college education : that is to provide financial assistance to individuals for vocational training when local facilities are inadequate . This probably would require some support for subsistence as well as for tuition , but the total would be no greater than for the proposals of unemployment compensation or a Youth Conservation Corps . A maximum of $600 per year per student would enable many to take training away from home . A program of financial assistance would permit placing emphasis on the national interest in training highly skilled labor . Instead of being limited to the poor training facilities in remote areas , the student would be able to move to large institutions of concentrated specialized training . Such specialized training institutions could be located near the most rapidly growing industries , where the equipment and job experience exist and where the future employment opportunities are located . This would heighten possibilities for part-time cooperative , on-the-job and extension training . Personal financial assistance would enable more emphasis to be placed on the interests of the individual . His aptitudes and preferences could be given more weight in selecting the proper training . But briefly , the topping configuration must be examined for its inferences . Then the fact that the lower channel line was pierced had further forecasting significance . And then the application of the count rules to the width ( horizontally ) of the configuration give us an intial estimate of the probable depth of the decline . The very idea of their being " count rules " implies that there is some sort of proportion to be expected between the amount of congestive activity and the extent of the breakaway ( run up or run down ) movement . This expectation is what really " sold " point and figure . But there is no positive and consistently demonstrable relationship in the strictest sense . Experience will show that only the vaguest generalities apply , and in fine , these merely dwell upon a relationship between the durations and intensities of events . After all , too much does not happen too suddenly , nor does very little take long . The advantages and disadvantages of these two types of charting , bar charting and point and figure charting , remain the subject of fairly good natured litigation among their respective professional advocates , with both methods enjoying in common , one irrevocable merit . They are both trend-following methods . Even if we strip their respective claims to the barest minimum , the " odds " still favor them both , for the trend in effect is always more likely to continue than to reverse . Of course , many more things are charted besides prices . The foregoing have been methods of charting prices , but now let us look at some of the other indices that are customarily charted , and which are looked to for their forecasting abilities . THE QUEST FOR METHODS The search for forecasting formulae is ceaseless . Correlations have been worked up between the loading of freight cars and the course of stock price . The theory behind this is , of course , fundamentalist in character . As the number of reported freight car loadings increased , this was taken to indicate increased industrial activity , and consequently increased stock earnings , implying fatter dividends , and implying therefore increased stock market prices . We now know that things rarely ever work out in such cut-and-dried fashion , and that car loadings , while perhaps interesting enough , are nevertheless not the magic formula that will always turn before stock prices turn . But the quest for such an index goes on ceaselessly , with all manner of investors and speculators participating , ranging from the sedate institutional type virtually to the proverbial shoe-string operator , all seeking doggedly , studiously , daily — and often nightly — for the enchanting index that will foretell the eternal secret : Which way will the market move ; up or down ? It recalls to mind the quest of olden times for the fountain of youth , a quest heavily invested in , during the days of wooden ships . Just as heavily invested are the endeavors of multitudes of modern men who carry on the quest for the enchanting index . The quest offers careers . Much of this goes on in offices high up in Wall Street 's lofty wind-swept towers . There sit men who make moving averages of weekly volume , monthly averages of price-earnings ratios , ratios of the number of advances to the number of declines , ratios of an individual stock 's performance to overall market performance , ratios of rising price volume to falling price volume , odd-lot indices , and what not . They are concerned with all things traded in , securities , bonds , cocao , coffee , soybeans , cotton , tin , oats , etc . And along Chicago 's West Jackson Boulevard , La Salle Street , and around the Merchandise Mart Plaza there sit men who chart crop reports , who divide the number of reported lady-bugs by the number of reported green-bugs , and the number of hogs by the amount of corn . They plot the open interest curves , rainfall curves , and they even divide Democratic congressmen by Republican congressmen . All these things and countless more enter into their calculations , and yet , the enchanting index remains non-forthcoming . Not , at any rate , in the fuller sense of the word . The markets are far too subtle , and the last word in these endeavors will doubtless never be written , for the enchanting index is about as nebulous as the fountain of youth . But whereas civilized men no longer pursue the fountain , they never abandoned their pursuit of the enchanting index . We mentioned odd-lot indices a few paragraphs ago . In the stock market , the normal trading package is a hundred shares , just as 5,000 bushels is the standard grain contract package . A stock transaction for less than a hundred shares is executed via a special odd-lot broker on the floor of the exchange . This results in a separate record being made , distinguishing these trades from the overall volume of trading . According to the theory underlying odd-lot indices , the trader who trades odd lots is most likely a small trader , one who ca n't afford to trade round lots . Or , to use the cynical phraseology of one odd-lot index enthusiast , they represent a sampling of the least sophisticated echelon of traders . Falling most easily prey to an adverse market movement , for this rank of traders can least afford to lose , virtually anything the odd-lot traders do , marketwise , is taken to exemplify the " wrong " thing to do . Figures reporting the volume of odd-lot purchases and odd-lot sales are released by the stock exchange and carried in the newspapers . Odd-lot index observers then make graphs of the data according to their particular statistical recipe . They might , for example , plot it exactly as is , or they might make ten day moving averages of it , or longer moving averages , or they might simply plot the ratio of odd-lot purchases to odd-lot sales . The particular recipe is a matter of individual taste . The data is now interpreted in conjunction with a price chart , usually of a popular stock average . Towards the end of an intermediate or major rise , while the top is forming on the price chart , it is frequently observed that the odd-lot buying increases sharply . This warns the chartist that the formation in progress is quite likely to be a top . Similarly , at the opposite end of the market cycle , towards the end of an intermediate or major decline , usually while the bottom is being formed on the price chart , it is characteristic that an increase is noticed in odd-lot selling again alerting the chartist that a bottom is becoming a greater likelihood . Thus , in the aggregate , the odd-lot trader is one who buys at the tops and sells at the bottoms , notwithstanding occasional individual exceptions . While it had long been known in general , that " the public is always wrong " , the use of odd-lot indices now puts the adage on a statistical basis . One might well wonder why the " public is always wrong " and the question raised is about as awkward as the one concerned with the chicken and the egg . Which came first ? Is it really that the " public " buys at the tops , and not that the market tops out when the " public " buys ? And the converse at bottoms . Does the " public " usually sell at bottoms , or does the market usually bottom out when the " public " sells ? We have been using the word " public " in quotation marks , that is , in its vernacular connotation with reference to the odd-lot index theory . Obviously someone has to sell in order for someone to buy , and vice versa . And while all concerned are members of the literal public , somewhat less than all concerned , although still a majority , form the quotation marked " public " . And the public minus the " public " leaves the so-called " sophisticated " element — the element on the other end of the " public 's " transactions . This element is often called " strong hands " . Strong hands differ from " weak hands " in that their operations are the primary movers . They initiate campaigns , so to speak , even if this initiation is diffused among them , and their concerted action only psychologically organized . Strong hands act ; weak hands react . Strong hands move first ; weak hands ask , What is going on ? When strong hands buy , they are able to buy more , and they do it even in the face of bearish news reports . They are able to sit more patiently with what they have bought . Needless to say , strong hands are not eager to be joined by weak hands , for this increases the risk that they will have to absorb what these weak hands unload on the way up , at higher prices , during the run-up phase of the campaign . Certain badly disillusioned market critics are often apt to feel that there is something somehow unfair , dirty , or even thoroughly criminal about this interplay of competitive forces . But after all , can anyone imagine a market wherein the reverse of these things were true ? Try to imagine a market in which only a minority of traders would lose , and the majority would make consistent profits . How much and how many profits could a majority take out of the losses of a few ? Moreover , the taunt concerning the " sophisticated " echelon and its alleged erudition is put to test during every campaign , and accrues only upon results ; not before . It quite often happens that campaigns go askew , resulting in a most unflattering deterioration of strong hands into played-out hands , just as a member of a former campaign 's " public " may emerge flatteringly " right " the next time . Membership in the echelons fluctuates too . The study of odd-lot indices is somehow akin to the spectacle of a man trying to outfox his own shadow , what with all observers trying to get on the side of the " few " at the same time . The usefulness of this study and of configuration analysis as well , declines in direct proportion to the dissemination of its use . It has to , by virtue of the very dictionary definition of the word " few " . Diametric opposition must persist as to the future course of prices , if there is to persist a market at all . And the few must win what the many lose , for the opposite arrangement would not support markets as we know them at all , and is , in fact , unimaginable . There need be no squeamishness about admitting this . Anyone still doubting that this is the only way markets can be is invited to try to imagine a market wherein the majority consistently wins what the minority loses . Mr. John Magee , whose work has been discussed in this chapter , was quoted in a New Yorker magazine profile as saying — " … Of course , you have to remember it 's a good thing for us chartists that there are n't more of us . If you got too many people investing by this method , their operations would begin to affect stock prices , and thus throw the charts off . The method would become self-defeating " . Mr. Alexander H. Wheelan 's Study Helps in Point and Figure Technique tells the readers — " We assure you that the total number of people using this method of market analysis is a very small portion of the sum total of those operating in the securities and commodities markets " . What with traders trading for so many different objectives , and what with there being so many unique and individualized market theories and trading techniques in use , and more coming into use all the time , it is hard to imagine how any particular theory or technique could acquire enough " fans " to invalidate itself . Nevertheless , all theories and techniques lead but to one of two possible modes of expression , if they lead to a market committment at all . In the final analysis , then , the user becomes either a bull or a bear in a given instance , notwithstanding any amount of forethought and calculation , however elaborate . Thus while his theory or technique may not be oversubscribed , it is commonplace for bullish and bearish positions to become temporarily over-subscribed . Though the methods of deciding may be profound and diverse , the possible conclusions remain but two . CHAPTER /6 , MORE METHODS THE HOAXES The purpose set forth at the beginning of this book was first to introduce the reader to a general background knowledge of the various types and capabilities of the forecasting methods already in use , so that he might then be in a position to evaluate for himself the validity of the rather astonishing empirical correlation that is to follow , and to appraise the forecast that its interpretation suggests for the future of farm prices over the years immediately ahead . IN assessing the outlook for interest rates in 1961 , the question , as always , is the prospect for general business activity . By and large , what happens to business as a whole will govern the relationship between demand and supply conditions in the capital markets and will thus determine interest rates . Moreover , the trend of general business activity in 1961 will exert a decisive influence on fiscal , monetary , and other Federal policies which affect interest rates . Nineteen-sixty has been a baffling year for analysts of general business activity . During much of the year the general level of business activity has moved along on a record-high plateau , but there have been persistent signs of slack in the economy . The tendency for general business activity to soften somewhat is becoming more evident . Although the pause in the advance of general business activity this year has thus far been quite modest , it is hard to escape the conclusion that the softening process will continue into the first quarter of 1961 and possibly somewhat longer . It is difficult to see any powerful sources of strength on the horizon at this time which would give the economy a new upward thrust . The rate of plant and equipment spending by business and industry now seems to be topping out and facing some decline . In earlier business cycles , when this occurred the country usually experienced a sharp upturn in residential construction as mortgage financing became easier to obtain . At this time , however , there are signs that increased availability of mortgage credit will not act with the usual speed to stimulate a sharp rise in residential construction . These signs are the inventories of unsold houses in some areas of the country and the moderate rise in vacancy rates for apartments ( 7.6% in September ) . On the other hand , in a more favorable vein , general business activity should receive some stimulus from rising Federal spending , and the reduction in business inventories has probably run a good part of its course . The 2% increase in retail sales in October to a 4-month high is encouraging in this connection as well as the most recent consumer survey by the National Industrial Conference Board , which shows a decided pickup in consumer spending plans . The pattern of general business activity which probably lies ahead of us is a further moderate softening through the spring of 1961 before a new rise in economic activity gets under way . The recovery will probably be sparked by a rising rate of housing starts next spring in response to more readily available mortgage credit , as well as by an expansion of Government spending , well sustained consumer spending , and some rebuilding of business inventories . SLIGHT DOWNWARD PRESSURE What does the general business outlook suggest about the trend of long-term rates in 1961 ? It suggests that during the next several months , through the spring of 1961 , the demand for long-term capital funds may be moderately lower and that interest rates may tend to move a little lower , especially the rates on Federal , state , and local bonds , as well as those on publicly offered corporate bonds . However , as witnessed by the large corporate bond calendar at present , as well as the record amount of municipal bond issues approved by voters , the over-all demands for capital funds seem likely to remain high , so that any downward pressure on rates from reduced demand should not be great . It seems likely , moreover , that with an increase in the rate of saving in mortgage lending institutions , interest rates on residential mortgages may move somewhat lower through the spring of next year , although the increased ease in residential mortgage lending may occur primarily in other terms than interest rate , e.g. , easier downpayment and amortization terms . If the trend of general business activity follows the pattern suggested here , we are likely to see additional steps by the Federal Reserve authorities to ease the availability of credit . Certainly a further reduction in the discount rate would be a strong possibility , as well as an easier reserve position for the banking system . However , the monetary authorities will continue to be required to pay attention to the consequences of their actions with respect to our international balance of payments position and the outflow of gold , as well as with regard to avoiding the creation of excessive liquidity in the economy , which would delay the effectiveness of monetary policy measures in the next expansion phase of the business cycle . OPEN MARKET POLICY One of the most intriguing questions is whether the recent departures of the Federal Reserve authorities from confining their open market operations to Treasury bills will spread into longer-term Government securities in the next few months . To the extent that the new Administration has its wishes , the Federal Reserve would conduct its open market operations throughout the entire maturity range of Government securities and aggressively seek to force down long-term interest rates . The principle of " bills only " , or " bills preferably " , seems so strongly accepted by the Federal Reserve that it is difficult to envision conditions which would persuade the authorities to depart radically from it by extending their open market purchases regularly into long-term Government securities . However , to the extent that the monetary authorities , in their effort to ease credit in the next several months , conduct their open market operations in longer-term Government bonds , they will certainly act to accentuate any tendency for long-term interest rates to ease as a result of market forces . By the end of the spring of 1961 , assuming that a general business recovery gets under way , interest rates should begin to edge upward again , depending upon the vigor of the recovery and the determination with which the monetary authorities move to restrain credit availability . My guess would be that interest rates will decline moderately into the spring of 1961 and during the second half of the year will turn up gradually to recover the ground lost during the downturn . It is pertinent to ask the question : Has the long upswing of interest rates during the past 15 years just about run its course , and are we now entering a period in which both capital market forces and Federal policies will produce a prolonged decline of interest rates ? My answer is in the negative because I believe that total capital demands during the Sixties will continue to press against available supplies , and interest rates will generally tend to be firm at high levels . FIVE BASIC FORCES This view is based upon several basic economic forces which I believe will be operating in the Sixties , as follows : ( 1 ) Recent events in the General Assembly of the United Nations confirm that the cold war will remain with us , and probably intensify , for the foreseeable future . This makes it certain that Federal expenditures for military preparedness and foreign economic aid are likely to rise further in the next several years . We are just beginning the task of trying to win or maintain the friendship of the new African nations against the ruthless competition of the Communist bloc . Our efforts to overcome the lead of the Russians in space are bound to mean accelerated Federal spending . Moreover , it is likely that Federal policies aimed at stimulating a faster rate of economic growth of the country , to keep ahead of the Communist countries and to demonstrate that our free economic system is better than theirs , will lead to rising Federal spending in certain areas such as education , housing , medical aid , and the like . There are serious dangers involved in this trend toward rising Federal expenditures , of which I take a dim view , but it seems very likely to occur . ( 2 ) During the Sixties we have the prospect of a significant stepping up in the rate of household formations , which should contribute to a rising volume of consumer expenditures and home building . According to the latest projections of the Bureau of the Census , the annual rate of household formations will increase for the next 20 years . Under the most favorable assumptions for increase , the Bureau of the Census projects that the annual rate of household formations will rise from about 883,000 in the last two years of the Fifties to an annual rate of about 1,018,000 in the first five years of the Sixties , and to a slightly higher annual rate of 1,083,000 in the second half of the decade . During the Seventies the projections show a more pronounced rise to an annual rate of 1,338,000 in the second half of that decade . Accordingly , the expanding markets for consumer goods and housing occasioned by the higher rate of household formation should enhance the general economic prospects of the Sixties . However , the impact of a rising rate of household formation this decade should not be exaggerated . The average annual rate of 1,083,000 in the second half of the Sixties is still considerably below the annual rate of 1,525,000 in the three-year period from April 1947 to March 1950 . ( 3 ) With the expansion of family formation in the Sixties , a continued substantial rise in expenditures by state and local government units seems to be indicated . This is an area in which there is still a large backlog of demand . State and local expenditures ( in real terms ) increased persistently from $26.5-billion in 1949 to $44.3-billion in 1959 , and it would not be surprising if they showed a comparable increase in this decade , which would carry them to the neighborhood of $75-billion by 1970 . Here would be a powerful force for raising business activity . ( 4 ) It seems likely that with the three preceding forces at play , the rate of business and industrial plant and equipment expenditures should continue to move upward from the levels of the Fifties . Spurred by keen competition in our industrial system , and still further increases in the funds devoted to industrial research , plant and equipment expenditures by business and industry should rise during the decade . ( 5 ) In a more pessimistic vein about the economic outlook , I suspect that the reservoir of demand for consumer goods and housing which was dammed-up during the Thirties and World War /2 , is finally in the process of running dry . There is some clear-cut evidence of this . For example , the huge postwar demand on the part of veterans for housing under the VA home loan guaranty program seems to have largely exhausted itself . Indeed , the failure of home-building as a whole to respond this year to somewhat greater availability of mortgage financing , and the increasing reports of pockets of unsold homes and rising vacancy rates in apartment buildings , may also signal in part that the lush days of big backlog demand for housing are reaching an end . In a way , we may be witnessing the same thing in the sales of automobiles today as the public no longer is willing to purchase any car coming on the market but is more insistent on compact cars free of the frills which were accepted in the Fifties . The huge backlog of demand which was evident in the first decade and a half after the War was fed by liquid assets accumulated by the public during the War , and even more so by the easier and easier credit in the consumer loan and home loan fields . The consuming public has used up a good part of these liquid assets , or they have been drained by the rising price level , and we have apparently gotten to the end of the line in making consumer or home mortgage terms easier . This is not to say that the level of consumer expenditures will not continue to rise in the Sixties . I am confident that it will , but consumer spending in the Sixties will not be fortified by the great backlog of wants and desires which characterized most of the Fifties . Markets should become more competitive as consumers become more selective . SIXTIES ' CAPITAL REQUIREMENTS Accordingly , during the Sixties our national economy is likely to grow at as fast a rate as in the Fifties and , in the process , to require enormous amounts of capital funds . Wage-price policies of industry are the result of a complex of forces — no single explanation has been found which applies to all cases . The purpose of this paper is to analyze one possible force which has not been treated in the literature , but which we believe makes a significant contribution to explaining the wage-price behavior of a few very important industries . While there may be several such industries to which the model of this paper is applicable , the authors make particular claim of relevance to the explanation of the course of wages and prices in the steel industry of the United States since World War /2 , . Indeed , the apparent stiffening of the industry 's attitude in the recent steel strike has a direct explanation in terms of the model here presented . The model of this paper considers an industry which is not characterized by vigorous price competition , but which is so basic that its wage-price policies are held in check by continuous critical public scrutiny . Where the industry 's product price has been kept below the " profit-maximizing " and " entry-limiting " prices due to fears of public reaction , the profit seeking producers have an interest in offering little real resistance to wage demands . The contribution of this paper is a demonstration of this proposition , and an exploration of some of its implications . In order to focus clearly upon the operation of this one force , which we may call the effect of " public-limit pricing " on " key " wage bargains , we deliberately simplify the model by abstracting from other forces , such as union power , which may be relevant in an actual situation . For expository purposes , this is best treated as a model which spells out the conditions under which an important industry affected with the public interest would find it profitable to raise wages even in the absence of union pressures for higher wages . Part /1 , below describes this abstract model by spelling out its assumptions . Part /2 , discusses the operation of the model and derives some significant conclusions . Part /3 , discusses the empirical relevance and policy implications of the conclusions . Part /4 , is a brief summary . The Mathematical Appendix presents the rigorous argument , but is best read after Part /1 , in order that the assumptions underlying the equations may be explicit . /1 , THE ASSUMPTIONS OF THE MODEL A. THE INDUSTRY The industry with which this model is concerned is a basic industry , producing a substantial share of gross national product . Price competition is lacking . For the purposes of setting the product price , the industry behaves as a single entity . In wage negotiations , the industry bargains as a unit with a single union . B. THE DEMAND FOR THE INDUSTRY 'S PRODUCT We are concerned with aggregate demand for the industry 's product . The manner in which this is shared among firms is taken as given . In any given time period , the aggregate demand for the industry 's product is determined by two things : the price charged by the industry , and the level of GNP . For the purposes of this discussion , the problem of relative prices is encompassed in these two variables , since GNP includes other prices . ( We abstract here from technological progress and assume that prices of all other products change proportionately . ) The form of the industry demand function is one which makes quantity demanded vary inversely with the product price , and vary directly with the level of GNP . C. INDUSTRY PRODUCT PRICE POLICY The industry of this model is so important that its wage and price policies are affected with a public interest . Because of its importance , and because the lack of price competition is well recognized , the industry is under considerable public pressure not to raise its price any more than could be justified by cost increases . The threat of effective anti-trust action , provoked by " gouging the public " through price increases not justified by cost increases , and fears of endangering relations with customers , Congress , the general public and the press , all operate to keep price increases in some relation to cost increases . For the industry of this model , the effect of such public pressures in the past has been to hold the price well below the short-run profit-maximizing price ( given the wage rate and the level of GNP ) , and even below the entry-limited price ( but not below average cost ) . For such an industry , it is only " safe " to raise its price if such an increase is manifestly " justified " by rising costs ( due to rising wages , etc . ) . Thus , if public pressure sets the effective limit to the price that the industry may charge , this pressure is itself a function of the wage rate . In this model , we abstract from all non-wage sources of cost changes , so that the " public-limit price " only rises as the wage rate rises . In such circumstances , it may well be to the advantage of the industry to allow an increase in the basic wage rate . Since marginal costs rise when the wage rate rises , the profit-maximizing price also rises when the public-limit price is elevated , and is likely to remain well above the latter . The entry-limiting price will also be raised for potential domestic competition , but unless general inflation permits profit margins to increase proportionately throughout the economy , we might expect the public-limit price to approach the entry-limit price . The foreign-entry-limit price would be approached more rapidly , since domestic wage-rates do not enter foreign costs directly . Where this approach becomes critical , the industry can be expected to put much emphasis on this as evidence of its sincerity in " resisting " the wage pressures of a powerful union , requesting tariff relief after it has " reluctantly " acceded to the union pressure . Whether or not it is in the industry 's interest to allow the basic wage rate to rise obviously depends upon the extent to which the public-limit price rises in response to a basic wage increase , and the relation of this response to the increase in costs accompanying the wage increase . The extent to which the public-limit price is raised by a given increase in the basic wage rate is itself a function of three things : the passage of time , the level of GNP , and the size of the wage increase . We are abstracting from the fact of strikes here , but it should be obvious that the extent to which the public-limit price is raised by a given increase in the basic wage rate is also a function of the show of resistance put up by the industry . The industry may deliberately take a strike , not to put pressure on the union , but in order to " educate " the government and the customers of the industry . As a strike continues , these parties increase their pressure on the industry to reach an agreement . They become increasingly willing to accept the price increase that the industry claims the wage bargain would entail . Public indignation and resistance to wage-price increases is obviously much less when the increases are on the order of 3% per annum than when the increases are on the order of 3% per month . The simple passage of an additional eleven months ' time makes the second 3% boost more acceptable . Thus , the public-limit price is raised further by a given wage increase the longer it has been since the previous price increase . Notice , however , that the passage of time does not permit the raising of prices per se , without an accompanying wage increase . Similarly , higher levels of GNP do not , in themselves , provide grounds for raising prices , but they do relax some of the pressure on the industry so that it can raise prices higher for a given wage increase . This is not extended to anticipated levels of GNP , however — only the current level of GNP affects the public pressure against wage-price increases . Finally , since the public requires some restraint on the part of the companies , larger wage increases call for less than proportionately larger price increases ( e.g. , if a wage increase of 5% allows a price increase of 7% , a wage increase of 10% allows a price increase of something less than 14% ) . D. INDUSTRY COSTS We assume that average total unit cost in the relevant region of operation is constant with respect to quantity produced ( the average cost curve is horizontal , and therefore is identical with the marginal cost curve ) , and is the same for every firm ( and therefore for the industry ) . The level of this average cost is determined by factor prices , technology , and so forth . As we have noted , however , we are abstracting from changes in all determinants of this level except for changes in the wage rate . The level of average cost ( equal to marginal cost ) is thus strictly a function of the wage rate . E. UNION POLICIES AND COLLECTIVE BARGAINING ISSUES The single union which faces the industry does not restrict its membership , and there is an adequate supply of labor available to the firms of the industry at the going wage rate . The union does not regard unemployment of its own members as a matter of concern when setting its own wage policy — its concern with employment makes itself felt in pressure upon the government to maintain full employment . The union vigorously demands wage increases from productivity increases , and wage increases to offset cost-of-living increases , but we abstract from these forces here . For our present purposes we assume that the sole subject of bargaining is the basic wage rate ( not including productivity improvement factors or cost-of-living adjustments ) , and it is this basic wage rate which determines the level of costs . Productivity is something of an amorphous concept and the amount of productivity increase in a given time period is not even well known to the industry , much less to the union or to the public . Disagreement on the amount of productivity increase exacerbates the problem of agreeing how an increase in profit margins related to a productivity increase should be shared . The existence of conflict and of vigorous union demand for an increase in money wages does not contradict the assumption that the union is willing to settle for cost-of-living and productivity-share increases as distinct from a cost-raising increase in the basic wage rate . We assume further that the union recognizes the possibility that price-level increases may offset wage-rate increases , and it does not entirely disregard the effect of price increases arising from its own wage increases upon the " real " wage rate . For internal political reasons , the union asks for ( and accepts ) increases in the basic wage rate , and would vigorously oppose a reduction in this rate , but the adjustment of the basic wage rate upwards is essentially up to the discretion of the companies of the industry . Changes in the basic wage rate are cost-raising , and they constitute an argument for raising prices . However , it is not known to either the union or the public precisely how much of a cost increase is caused by a given change in the basic wage rate , although the companies are presumed to have reliable estimates of this magnitude . In this model , then , the industry is presumed to realize that they could successfully resist a change in the basic wage rate , but since such a change is the only effective means to raising prices they may , in circumstances to be spelled out in Part /2 , below , find it to their advantage to allow the wage rise . Thus , for non-negative changes in the basic wage rate , the industry becomes the active wage-setter , since any increase in the basic wage rate can occur only by reason of industry acquiescence . The presumption in the literature would appear to be that the basic wage rate would be unchanged in this case , on the grounds that it is " clearly " not in the interest of the industry to raise wages gratuitously . From this presumption it is an easy step to the conclusion that any observed increases in the basic wage rate must be due to union behavior different and more aggressive than assumed in our model . It is this conclusion that we challenge ; we do so by disproving the presumption on which it is based . /2 , THE OPERATION OF THE MODEL It is convenient to assume that the union-industry contract is of one year 's duration . In the century from 1815 to 1914 the law of nations became international law . Several factors contributed to this change . The Congress of Vienna is a convenient starting point because it both epitomized and symbolized what was to follow . Here in 1815 the great nations assembled to legislate not merely for Europe , but for the world . Thus the Congress marks a formal recognition of the political system that was central to world politics for a century . International law had to fit the conditions of Europe , and nothing that could not fit this system , or the interests of the great European nations collectively , could possibly emerge as law in any meaningful sense . Essentially this imposed two conditions : First , international law had to recognize and be compatible with an international political system in which a number of states were competitive , suspicious , and opportunistic in their political alignments with one another ; second , it had to be compatible with the value system that they shared . In both respects , international law was Europeanized . It was not always easy to develop theory and doctrine which would square the two conditions . On the one hand , the major European nations had to maintain vis-a-vis each other an emphasis upon sovereignty , independence , formal equality — thus insuring for themselves individually an optimal freedom of action to maintain the " flexibility of alignment " that the system required and to avoid anything approaching a repetition of the disastrous Napoleonic experience . But there was no pressing need to maintain these same standards with regard to most of the rest of the world . Thus , theory and doctrine applicable among the great nations and the smaller European states did not really comfortably fit less developed and less powerful societies elsewhere . Political interference in Africa and Asia and even in Latin America ( though limited in Latin America by the special interest of the United States as expressed in the Monroe Doctrine , itself from the outset related to European politics and long dependent upon the " balance of power " system in Europe ) was necessary in order to preserve both common economic values and the European " balance " itself . A nation such as Switzerland could be neutralized by agreement and could be relied upon to protect its neutrality ; more doubtful , but possible , ( with an assist from the North ) was the neutralization of the Latin American countries ; out of the question was the neutralization of Asia and Africa . This Europeanization of the law was made explicit by a number of 19th century scholars . More emphasis was put upon the fact that international law was the law of " civilized nations " ; Kent and Story , the great early American scholars , repeatedly made use of this phrase , or of " Christian nations " , which is a substantial equivalent . Wheaton stated that the public law was essentially " limited to the civilized and Christian peoples of Europe or to those of European origin " . Of course it had always been of European origin in fact , but it had maintained a universal outlook under the natural law theory . Now , with virtually every writer , not only was the European origin of public law acknowledged as a historical phenomenon , but the rules thus established by the advanced civilizations of Europe were to be imposed on others . The European customs on which international law was based were to become , by force and fiat , the customs that others were to accept as law if they were to join this community as sovereign states . Hall , for example , was quite explicit on this point when he said " states outside European civilization must formally enter into the circle of law-governed countries . They must do something with the acquiescence of the latter , or some of them , which amounts to an acceptance of the law in its entirety beyond all possibility of misconstruction " . During the nineteenth century these views were protested by virtually all the Latin American writers , though ineffectively , just as the new nations of Africa and Asia protest them , with more effect , today . A number of other nineteenth-century developments contributed to the transmutation of the law of nations into international law ; that is , from aspects of a universal system of Justice into particular rules governing the relations of sovereign states . The difference is important , for although the older law of nations did cover relationships among sovereigns , this was by no means its exclusive domain . The law of nature governed sovereigns in their relationship to their own citizens , to foreigners , and to each other in a conceptually unified system . The theory of international law , which in the nineteenth century became common to virtually all writers in Europe and America , broke this unity and this universality . It lost sight of the individual almost entirely and confined itself to rules limiting the exercise of state power for reasons essentially unconnected with justice or morality save as these values might affect international relations . No longer did the sovereign look to the law of nations to determine what he ought to do ; his search was merely for rules that might limit his freedom of action . To appreciate this development , we must relate it to other aspects of nineteenth-century philosophy . First , and most obvious , was the growing nationalism and the tendency to regard the state , and the individual 's identification with the state , as transcending other ties of social solidarity . National identification was not new , but it was accelerating in intensity and scope throughout Europe as new unifications occurred . It reached its ultimate philosophical statement in notions of " state will " put forward by the Germans , especially by Hegel , although political philosophers will recognize its origins in the rejected doctrines of Hobbes . National identification was reflected jurisprudentially in law theories which incorporated this Hegelian abstraction and saw law , domestic and international , simply as its formal reflection . In the international community this reduced law to Jellinek 's auto-limitation . A state , the highest form of human organization in fact and theory , could be subjected to Law only by a manifestation of self-will , or consent . According to the new theories , the nineteenth century corporate sovereign was " sovereign " in a quite new and different sense from his historical predecessors . He no longer sought to find the law ; he made it ; he could be subjected to law only because he agreed to be . There was no law , domestic or international , except that willed by , acknowledged by , or consented to by states . Hidden behind Hegelian abstractions were more practical reasons for a changing jurisprudence . Related to , but distinguishable from , nationalism was the growth of democracy in one form or another . Increased participation in politics and the demands of various groups for status and recognition had dramatic effects upon law institutions . The efforts of various interest groups to control or influence governmental decisions , particularly when taken in conjunction with the impact of industralization , led to a concentration of attention on the legislative power and the means whereby policy could be formulated and enforced as law through bureaucratic institutions . Law became a conscious process , something more than simply doing justice and looking to local customs and a common morality for applicable norms . Particularly was this true when the norms previously applied were no longer satisfactory to many , when customs were rapidly changing as the forces of the new productivity were harnessed . The old way of doing things , which depended on a relatively stable community with stable ideas dealing with familiar situations , was no longer adequate to the task . First was the period of codification of existing law : the Code Napoleon in France and the peculiar codification that , in fact , resulted from Austin 's restatement and ordering of the Common Law in England . Codification was followed in all countries by a growing amount of legislation , some changing and adjusting the older law , much dealing with entirely new situations . The legislative mills have been grinding ever since , and when its cumbersome processes were no longer adequate to the task , a limited legislative authority was delegated in one form or another , to the executive . Whereas the eighteenth century had been a time in which man sought justice , the nineteenth and twentieth have been centuries in which men are satisfied with law . Indeed , with developed positivism , the separation of law from justice , or from morality generally , became quite specific . In municipal systems we tend to view what is called positivism as fundamentally a movement to democratize policy by increasing the power of parliament — the elected representatives — at the expense of the more conservative judiciary . When the power of the latter was made both limited and explicit — when norms were clarified and made more precise and the creation of new norms was placed exclusively in parliamentary hands — two purposes were served : Government was made subservient to an institutionalized popular will , and law became a rational system for implementing that will , for serving conscious goals , for embodying the " public policy " . It is true that , initially , the task was to remove restrictions that , it was thought , inhibited the free flow of money , goods , and labor ; but even laissez-faire was a conscious policy . Law was seen as an emanation of the " sovereign will " . However , the sovereign was not Hobbes ' absolute monarch but rather the parliamentary sovereign of Austin . It was , too , an optimistic philosophy , and , though it separated law from morality , it was by no means an immoral or amoral one . Man , through democratic institutions of government and economic freedom , was master of his destiny . The theory did not require , though it unfortunately might acquire , a Hegelian mystique . It was merely a rationalization and ordering of new institutions of popular government . It was not opposed to either justice or morality ; it merely wished to minimize subjective views of officials who wielded public authority . Particularly was this true as laissez-faire capitalism became the dominant credo of Western society . To free the factors of production was a major objective of the rising bourgeoisie , and this objective required that governmental authority — administrative officials and judges — be limited as precisely and explicitly as possible ; that old customs which inhibited trade be abrogated ; that business be free from governmental supervision and notions of morality which might clog the automatic adjustments of the free market ; that obligations of status that were inconsistent with the new politics and the new economics be done away with . Contract — conceived as the free bargain of formal equals — replaced the implied obligations of a more static and status-conscious society . Indeed , contract was the dominant legal theme of the century , the touchstone of the free society . Government itself was based upon contract ; business organization — the corporation — was analyzed in contractual terms ; trade was based on freedom of contract , and money was lent and borrowed on contractual terms ; even marriage and the family was seen as a contractual arrangement . It is not surprising that the international obligations of states were also viewed in terms of contract . In fact , some — Anzilotti is the principle example — went so far as to say that all international law could be traced to the single legal norm , Pacta sunt Servanda . The displacement ( at least to a considerable extent ) of the ethical jurisprudence of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries by positivism reshaped both international law theory and doctrine . In the first place the new doctrine brought a formal separation of international from municipal law , rejecting the earlier view that both were parts of a universal legal system . One result was to nationalize much that had been regarded as the law of nations . Admiralty law , the law merchant , and the host of problems which arise in private litigation because of some contact with a foreign country were all severed from the older Law of Nations and made dependent on the several national laws . Private international law ( which Americans call the " conflict of laws " ) was thus segregated from international law proper , or , as it is often called , public international law . States were free to enact , within broad though ( perhaps ) determinate limits , their own rules as to the application of foreign law by their courts , to vary the law merchant , and to enact legislation with regard to many claims arising on the high seas . The change was not quite so dramatic as it sounds because in fact common norms continued to be invoked by municipal courts and were only gradually changed by legislation , and then largely in marginal situations . Mr. Justice Black was one of the minority that rested on the Article /1 , power . In this view , supported by only three members of the Court , a power denied by the specific provisions of Article /3 , was granted by the generality of Article /1 , . If this seems arbitrary , its effect was to treat citizens of the District of Columbia equally with citizens of the states — at the expense of expanding a troublesome jurisdiction . FEDERAL QUESTION JURISDICTION For almost a hundred years we relied upon state courts ( subject to review by the Supreme Court ) for the protection of most rights arising under national law . Then in 1875 , apparently in response to the nationalizing influence of the Civil War , Congress first gave the lower federal courts general authority — concurrently with state tribunals — to decide cases involving federal-right questions . One purpose of the change was to attain sympathetic enforcement of rights insured by the Civil War amendments against state interference . Serious difficulty arose with the advent of Substantive Due Process . An amendment , presumably designed to deal with the problems of newly freed slaves , became a " laissez-faire " limitation upon state economic policy . A flood of federal lower court injunctions seriously impeded the processes of local government . Congress reacted with a series of measures modifying in various ways what it had granted in 1875 . In 1910 it required the convening of a special three-judge court for the issuance of certain injunctions and allowed direct appeals to the Supreme Court . Such legislation was clarified and extended from time to time thereafter . In 1913 an abortive provision was made for the stay of federal injunction proceedings upon institution of state court test cases . The essential ineffectiveness of these measures resulted in 1934 in substantial elimination of federal jurisdiction to enjoin state public utility rate orders . Three years later similar restraints were imposed upon injunctions against collection of state taxes . This saved for state adjudication , in the first instance , the two major areas where federal injunctions had been most obnoxious , but other areas remained vulnerable . Meanwhile , the Supreme Court , like Congress , showed misgivings concerning this aspect of government by injunction . Drawing upon the traditional discretion of the chancellor , Mr. Justice Holmes introduced a series of self-imposed judicial restraints that culminated in Mr. Justice Frankfurter 's famous doctrine of abstention . Whereas the earlier cases turned rather narrowly upon the availability of adequate state remedies , the new emphasis is upon the nature of the state policy at issue . The classic case is Railroad Commission v. Pullman . The commission had issued an administrative order which was challenged as discriminatory against Negroes . Its enforcement was enjoined by a federal trial court . On review the Supreme Court , via Mr. Justice Frankfurter , found southern racial problems " a sensitive area of social policy on which the federal courts ought not to enter unless no alternative to … adjudication is open " . An alternative was found in the vagueness of state law as to whether the offending order had in fact been authorized . Reluctant , as usual , to interpret state legislation — such interpretation can only be a " forecast rather than a determination " — Mr. Justice Frankfurter led a unanimous Court to vacate the injunction . But it is crucial that here , unlike Burford , the trial court was ordered to retain the case until the state courts had had a reasonable opportunity to settle the state-law question . " The resources of equity are equal to an adjustment that will avoid the waste of a tentative decision as well as the friction of a premature constitutional adjudication " . Temporary abstention , i.e. , postponement , is one thing ; refusal to adjudicate is another . To the extent that the jurisdictional principle of 1875 stands unmodified by subsequent legislation , federal equitable relief against state action must be available — or so it seems to Mr. Justice Frankfurter . In Alabama Public Service Commission v. Southern Ry . Co. , the commission had refused to permit abandonment of certain " uneconomic " train facilities . The railroad , claiming deprivation of property without due process of law , sought injunctive relief . The Court held that federal jurisdiction should not be exercised lest the domestic policy of the state be obstructed ; this in the name of equitable discretion . Justices Frankfurter and Jackson concurred in the Court 's result , for they found no merit in the railroad 's claim . But they objected vigorously to the proposition that federal courts may refuse to exercise jurisdiction conferred in a valid act of Congress : " By one fell swoop the Court now finds that Congress indulged in needless legislation in the acts of 1910 , 1913 , 1925 , 1934 and 1937 . By these measures , Congress , so the Court [ in effect ] now decides , gave not only needless but inadequate relief , since it now appears that the federal courts have inherent power to sterilize the Act of 1875 against all proceedings challenging local regulation " . A most revealing recent case is Textile Workers Union v. Lincoln Mills . The Taft-Hartley Act gave the federal courts jurisdiction over " suits for violation of contracts between an employer and a labor organization representing employees in an industry affecting commerce " . On its face this merely provides a federal forum ; it does not establish any law ( rights ) for the federal judges to enforce . How can judges exercise jurisdiction to enforce national rights when Congress has created none ? The Court held that Congress had intended the federal judiciary to " fashion " an appropriate law of labor-management contracts . In short , congressional power to grant federal-question authority to federal courts is now apparently so broad that Congress need not create , or specify , the right to be enforced . The Lincoln Mills decision authorizes a whole new body of federal " common law " which , as Mr. Justice Frankfurter pointed out in dissent , leads to one of the following " incongruities " : " ( 1 ) conflict in federal and state court interpretations of collective bargaining agreements ; ( 2 ) displacement of state law by federal law in state courts … in all actions regarding collective bargaining agreements ; or ( 3 ) exclusion of state court jurisdiction over these matters " . The Justice 's elaborate examination of the legislative history of the provision in question suggests that Congress ' purpose was merely to make unions suable . With a few exceptions , the lawmakers seemed unaware of the technical problems of federal jurisdiction involved — to say nothing of the delegation of lawmaking power to judges . To avoid these constitutional difficulties , Mr. Justice Frankfurter was prepared to read the Taft-Hartley provision as concerned with diversity , rather than federal question , jurisdiction . This would satisfy what presumably was Congress ' major purpose — the suability of unions . It would also leave intact the states ' traditional authority in the realm of contract law . ( As we have seen , the Erie and York decisions require federal courts in diversity cases to follow state decisional rules . ) Here again Mr. Justice Frankfurter could not lightly accept the principle of wholesale judicial legislation . If Congress wants to displace the states from areas which they have customarily occupied , let it do so knowingly and explicitly . And let it do its own lawmaking and not leave that to federal judges . Does Lincoln Mills suggest that if Congress granted jurisdiction over interstate divorce cases , the federal courts would be authorized to fashion a national law for the dissolution of marriages ? There is a common problem behind most of these federal question and diversity cases . Congress has not clearly defined the bounds between state and federal court competence . It has the power to do so but for the most part has left the matter for solution by judges on a case-by-case basis . A careful student has suggested that " In any new revision [ of the Judicial Code ] the legislators would do well to remember that the allocation of power to the federal courts should be limited to those matters in which their expertise in federal law might be used , leaving to the state judiciaries the primary obligation of pronouncing state law " . Obviously , the goal here proposed is the guiding principle in Mr. Justice Frankfurter 's opinions — to the extent that Congress leaves the problem to judicial discretion . The same rule of specialization and division of labor guides him in the FELA certiorari cases , in the administrative law area , and indeed in the whole realm of judicial review . Mr. Justice Black no doubt concurs in principle but is more apt to make exceptions to achieve a generous and " just " result . He will not be " fooled by technicalities " . FEDERAL REVIEW OF STATE DECISIONS With few exceptions , Congress has not given federal courts exclusive authority to enforce rights arising under federal law . To put it differently , state and federal courts have concurrent jurisdiction with respect to most claims of federal right . To insure uniformity in the meaning of national law , however , state interpretations are subject to Supreme Court review . It may be noted , parenthetically , that to evade " desegregation " an ex-Justice and former southern governor has urged Congress to abolish this reviewing authority . The result , of course , would be that federal law inevitably would mean different things in different states . It would also probably mean different things within the same state — depending upon what court ( state or federal ) rendered decision . We consider here only a few of many problems involved in this crucial federal-state relationship . The first is that enforcement of national law in state litigation raises in reverse the old diversity puzzle of the relation of procedure to substance . Subject to certain constitutional restraints in favor of fair trials , each level of government is free to devise its own judicial procedures . Litigants who choose to assert federal claims in a state court go into that court subject to its rules of procedure . A similar canon applies to those who press state claims in federal tribunals , e.g. , in diversity cases . In an FELA controversy the state court followed established state procedure by construing a vague complaint " most strongly against " the complainant . In other words the burden of pleading clearly rested upon the pleader by state law . The result was that the plaintiff 's case was dismissed . Mr. Justice Black led a reversing majority : " Strict local rules of pleading can not be used to impose unnecessary burdens upon rights of recovery authorized by federal law " . Here , as in the Byrd case , another element of state procedure was subsumed to federal judge-made law . Justices Frankfurter and Jackson dissented : " One State may cherish formalities more than another , one State may be more responsive than another to procedural reforms . If a litigant chooses to enforce a Federal right in a State court , he can not be heard to object if he is treated exactly as are plaintiffs who press like claims arising under State law with regard to the form in which the claim must be stated — the particularity , for instance , with which a cause of action must be described . Federal law , though invoked in a State court , delimits the Federal claim — defines what gives a right to recovery and what goes to prove it . But the form in which the claim must be stated need not be different from what the State exacts in the enforcement of like obligations created by it , so long as a requirement does not add to , or diminish , the right as defined by Federal law , nor burden the realization of this right in the actualities of litigation " . Another problem in the area of federal-state relationships is this : what constitutes reversible error in a state decision ? Terminiello v. Chicago involved a conviction for disorderly conduct under a local ordinance . The conduct in question was a speech . The accused did not object to the trial court 's charge to the jury that discourse " may constitute a breach of the peace if it stirs the public to anger , invites dispute , brings about a condition of unrest … " . For present purposes it may be assumed that this charge so narrowly limited speech as to violate the federal Constitution . Though the accused raised many other objections , he did not object on this crucial point at any stage of the proceedings . That is , he did not claim in any of the four courts through which his case progressed that the jury charge had denied him any federal right . How else can one explain , for example , allowing the survival of the right to amortize bond discount and premium ( section 381(c) ( 9 ) ) , but not the right to amortize bond issue expenses ; or allowing a deduction for payment of certain obligations of a transferor assumed in the reorganization ( section 381(c) ( 16 ) ) , but not a deduction for theft losses sustained by a transferor prior to a reorganization but discovered after it ; or requiring a transferor to carry over its method of depeciation ( section 381(c) ( 6 ) ) , but not allowing rapid amortization of emergency facilities transferred in a reorganization ; or allowing survival of a dividend carryover to a personal holding company ( section 381(c) ( 14 ) ) , but not carryover of excess tax credits for foreign taxes ? These items , and most of the others listed above , seem quite comparable to items whose right of survival is provided for in section 381 . There does not seem to be any reasonable basis for distinction either in terms of the nature of the tax attribute or in terms of tax-avoidance possibilities . With respect to items such as these the provisions of section 381(c) , viewed in historical perspective , suggest a rule requiring survival , whether the items are beneficial or detrimental to the surviving corporation . To this extent some stretching of the literal meaning of the Committee Report seems justified , since the literal meaning conflicts with the clear implication , if not the language , of the statute . It is not contended that section 381 should prescribe the survival of all of the transferor 's tax attributes . Such an interpretation could not be justified by a construction of the statute alone ; it would certainly violate the intention of Congress as expressed in the Committee Report ; and in at least one instance , involving refund claims , it might be contrary to another provision of the United States Code . REFUND CLAIMS Section 203 of the United States Code voids an assignment of a claim against the Government unless made after it has been allowed , the amount due has been ascertained , and a warrant for its payment has been issued . If it were not for judicial development of certain exceptions , this section would prohibit a suit for refund by an acquiring corporation for taxes paid by a transferor corporation , even though the reorganization meets the requirements of section 381(a) . A clearly recognized exception is a statutory merger or consolidation . The leading case , Seaboard Air Line Railway v. United States , held that the transferee could sue for a refund of taxes paid by the transferor , and it has been consistently followed . The Court said the purpose of the section was principally to spare the Government the embarrassment and trouble of dealing with several parties , one of them a stranger to the claim , and to prevent traffic in claims , particularly tenuous claims , against the Government . Neither reason , said the Court , applied to the case at hand ; furthermore , Congress could not be presumed to have intended to obstruct mergers approved by the states . Other exceptions are assignments for the benefit of creditors , corporate dissolutions , transfers by descent , or transfers by subrogation . Exceptions are often classified as transfers by " operation of law " . A tax-free reorganization not complying with the merger or consolidation statutes of the states involved is difficult to fit into an " operation of law " mold . Although it is in some ways comparable to a voluntary sale of assets for cash , to which section 203 quite clearly applies , the courts and Treasury have held that acquiring corporations in several types of non-taxable reorganizations may sue for refund of taxes paid by transferors . A recent case in point is Mitchell Canneries v. United States , in which a claim against the Government was transferred first from a corporation to a partnership , whose partners were former stockholders , and then to another corporation formed by the partners . Holding the final corporation entitled to sue on the claim , the Court cited the Seaboard , Novo Trading , and Roomberg cases for the proposition that " … transfers by operation of law or in conjunction with changes of corporate structure are not assignments prohibited by the statute " . In an earlier case , Kingan + Co. v. United States , an American corporation was formed for the purpose of acquiring the stock of a British corporation in exchange for its own stock and then liquidating the British corporation . The anti-assignment statute was held not to prevent the American corporation from suing for a refund of taxes paid by the British corporation . The transaction presumably would have qualified under section 368(a) ( 1 ) ( B ) as a contractual reorganization , followed by a section 332 liquidation , but not under section 368(a) ( 1 ) ( A ) as a statutory merger of consolidation . The Court , nevertheless , relied on the Seaboard case and also mentioned that the shareholders of the two corporations were the same . In substance , said the Court , there was no transfer of equitable title . The Treasury arrives at substantially the same conclusion , but skirts the problem of section 203 of the United States Code . Revenue Ruling 54-17 provides that if the corporation against which a tax was assessed has since been liquidated by merger with a successor corporation , a claim for refund should be filed by the successor in the name and on behalf of the corporation which paid the tax , followed by the name of the successor corporation . Proper evidence of the liquidation and succession must also be filed . If the succession is a matter of public record , certificates of the Secretaries of State or other public officials having custody of the documents will suffice ; if the succession is not of record , all documents relating to such succession , properly certified , are required . The former proof seems applicable to a statutory merger or consolidation , the latter to a contractual acquisition . The Ruling would not , however , apply to an acquisition of assets for cash . A recent Ruling , although rather confusing , cites and follows Rev. Rul. 54-17 . The Ruling suggests also that it applies to either a statutory or contractual reorganization . Hence , a successor corporation in a C reorganization appears entitled to sue for a refund of taxes paid by the merged corporation despite section 203 . In a B reorganization , followed by a section 332 liquidation , those cases which hold that section 203 is inapplicable to transfers in liquidation appear to permit the successor corporation to sue for refund of taxes paid by the transferor . In fact , a cash purchase of a corporation 's stock followed by liquidation might also be an effective way to transfer a claim for refund if the Kimbell-Diamond doctrine is not applied to eliminate the intermediate step . These results appear sound . As stated in Seaboard and numerous other cases , the two primary reasons for the enactment of section 203 of the United States Code were to prevent the Government from having to deal with more than one claimant and to prevent the assignment of meretricious claims on a contingent-fee basis . The cases have allowed transfer of claims if beneficial ownership is not changed . The first reason would never apply to a reorganization transfer which meets the conditions of section 381(a) , which is the only type presently under discussion . Section 381(a) applies only to a transfer by liquidation of a subsidiary owned to the extent of at least 80 per cent , a statutory merger or consolidation , an acquisition of substantially all a corporation 's assets solely in exchange for voting stock , or a change of identity , form , or place of organization . In virtually every case the transferor corporation is liquidated , and its former stockholders either own outright , or have a continuing stock interest in , the assets which gave rise to the tax . In these circumstances the possibility of multiple or conflicting claims is exceedingly remote . Furthermore , in a C reorganization the continuing interest of stockholders of the corporation which paid the tax must be greater than is necessary in a statutory merger , to which the statute is clearly inapplicable . Nor is it at all likely that a " desperate " claim against the Government will be assigned on a contingent-fee basis in the guise of a tax-free reorganization . If the transferor has substantial assets other than the claim , it seems reasonable to assume no corporation would be willing to acquire all of its properties in the dim hope of collecting a claim for refund of taxes . If such an unlikely transaction were to take place , it would more logically be accomplished by a stock purchase , followed by the prosecution of the claim by the wholly-owned subsidiary , followed by liquidation . In the rare case where a corporation 's only substantial asset , or its most important one , is a claim for refund , perhaps its transfer should not be permitted , whether the reorganization takes the form of a statutory merger or of the acquisition of assets for stock . It appears , then , that although the matter is not dealt with in section 381(c) , a successor corporation in a reorganization of a type specified in section 381(a) is entitled to sue for refund of taxes paid by a transferor corporation . Section 203 of the United States Code has been interpreted as not applying to claims against the Government transferred in tax-free reorganizations . The successor corporations have been held entitled to sue on such claims . OTHER TAX ATTRIBUTES OF THE TRANSFEROR There are certain tax attributes of a corporation whose nature and effect might depend on the facts of the particular reorganization involved . For example , property " used in the trade or business " of a transferor corporation , as defined in section 1231 , presumably would not retain its special status following a non-taxable reorganization if it is not so used in the business of the acquiring corporation . The parent of a group filing consolidated returns might be treated as the same corporation following a reorganization defined in section 368(a) ( 1 ) ( F ) , but as a different corporation for this purpose after a tax-free acquisition by another corporation which had not , for example , elected to file consolidated returns with its own subsidiaries . Similar considerations presumably made it difficult to prescribe a general rule where the acquired and acquiring corporations have different methods of accounting ( section 381(c) ( 4 ) ) or depreciation ( section 381(c) ( 6 ) ) . Other sections of the 1954 Internal Revenue Code provide for survival of certain of a transferor 's tax attributes following a tax-free reorganization . Section 362 requires carryover of the transferor corporation 's basis for property transferred , and section 1223 provides for tacking on the transferor 's holding period for such property to that of the transferee . Section 169 permits a person acquiring grain-storage facilities to elect to continue amortization over a 60-month period . However , a similar privilege was not specifically provided in section 168 for a person acquiring emergency facilities . ATTRIBUTES SIMILAR TO A LOSS CARRYOVER . There may be certain items which are quite similar to a net operating loss carryover or operating deficit and whose right to survive a reorganization should perhaps be subject to the conditions applicable to those items . For example , suppose another excess profits tax similar to prior laws is enacted , providing for carryover of excess profits credits . This carryover right has a number of things in common with a net operating loss carryover . It is an averaging device intended to ease the tax burden of fluctuating income ; it is a tax benefit which might be of substantial value to a corporation which expects to have a high excess profits tax . Under the 1939 Code this item was permitted to survive a tax-free reorganization in the Stanton Brewery case , but only over the dissent of Judge Learned Hand , who wrote the majority opinion in the Sansome case , a leading case requiring carryover of earnings and profits in a non-taxable reorganization . Since this type of item was not in the statute when section 381 was enacted in 1954 , one can not say with certainty what effect the enactment of that section should have . With respect to this type of item , one might properly apply the language of the Committee Report , quoted above , which cautions against using section 381 as a basis for treating other tax attributes not mentioned therein . Actually , there do not presently appear to be items in the statute comparable to a net operating loss carryover . Probably the primary reason for special treatment of a net operating loss carryover is the unique opportunity it presents for tax avoidance . A. REASONS FOR SELECTING MAIL QUESTIONNAIRE METHOD There were two methods that could have been used for conducting the study within the resources available : ( 1 ) interviews in depth with a few selected companies , and ( 2 ) the more limited interrogation of a large number of companies by means of a mail questionnaire . While the method of interviewing a small number of companies was appealing because of the opportunity it might have furnished to probe fully the reasons and circumstances of a company 's practices and opinions , it also involved the risk of paying undue attention to the unique and peculiar problems of just a few individual companies . As a result , it was decided that a mail questionnaire sent to a large number of companies would be more effective in determining the general practices and opinions of small firms and in highlighting some of the fundamental and recurring problems of defense procurement that concern both industry and government . It was also hoped that responses to a mail questionnaire would suggest fruitful inquiries that might be made in subsequent studies of a more detailed nature . It is recognized that a mail questionnaire has inherent limitations . There is the danger that the questions will mean different things to different respondents . Simple " yes " or " no " answers do not reveal the different shades of opinion that the various respondents may have . A respondent may want to make alternative answers because he does not know the precise circumstances assumed in the question . There is also the problem of the respondent 's frame of reference . Is the respondent making a recommendation for his own benefit , for the benefit of his industry , for the benefit of a specific government department or service , for the benefit of the defense program , for the benefit of small business , or for the benefit of the taxpayers ? There is also the question of whether the respondent based his answers on factual information and carefully considered judgment , or whether his answers were casual guesses . Finally , there is the question of how strongly an expressed opinion is held — whether it is a firm opinion or one that the respondent favors only slightly over the alternatives . The research team was very mindful of these dangers and limitations of a mail questionnaire . Under the circumstances , however , the team considered it would provide the most useful information at this point . In the preparation of the questionnaire the problems noted above were carefully considered , and the structure and phraseology used were designed to minimize the effects of these limitations . B. DESIGN OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE The questionnaire was designed to elicit three types of information : ( 1 ) the facts regarding certain characteristics of the respondents , including their experience with , and interest in , securing defense business ; ( 2 ) the actual selling and buying practices of the respondents ; and ( 3 ) the attitudes and opinions of the respondents concerning bidding procedures and the methods of awarding defense contracts . It was hoped that the facts concerning the characteristics and practices of the respondents would offer clues to the reasons why they took the positions and made the recommendations which they did . The major sections of the questionnaire ( see Appendix B ) are devoted to the following : 1 . Information for classifying respondents ( Part A of the questionnaire ) 2 . Characteristics of defense sales activities ( Part B of the questionnaire ) 3 . Respondents ' practices in participating in advertised bidding for defense business ( Part C of the questionnaire ) 4 . Respondents ' practices in participating in negotiated bidding for defense purposes ( Part D of the questionnaire ) 5 . Respondents ' opinions regarding advertised bidding ( Part E of the questionnaire ) 6 . Respondents ' opinions regarding negotiated bidding ( Part F of the questionnaire ) 7 . Respondents ' preferences regarding the methods of awarding defense contracts ( Part G of the questionnaire ) The questionnaire provided a place for the name of the respondent but stated that identification of the respondent was optional . The questionnaire also stated that , in any event , all replies would be treated confidentially . It is interesting to note that 75 per cent of those who returned the questionnaire identified themselves . C. PREPARATION AND PRETEST OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE The research team prepared and then revised the questionnaire over a period of six months . In June , 1960 , an early draft of the questionnaire , along with a cover letter , was mailed to fourteen companies in the state of Washington . Several days after the companies had received the questionnaire , members of the research team contacted the presidents of eleven of these companies in person or by phone to discuss any ambiguities or difficulties the addressees might have experienced in completing the questionnaire . This test resulted in further revisions of the questionnaire . The research team was concerned that responses from firms in the state of Washington might not be typical of those throughout the country , or that the results might be different when no phone or personal follow-up was made . Accordingly , another test of the questionaire was made . The revised draft was mailed in July , 1960 , to 100 firms throughout the United States . Fifty of the 100 firms were selected on a random basis from 3,500 names submitted by member companies of the Aerospace Industries Association ( AIA list ) and fifty were selected in a similar manner from a list of 1,500 names compiled by the research team from the Thomas Register ( TR list ) . The method of compiling the AIA and TR lists will be described later . Ten days after the questionnaires were mailed , follow-up airmail postcards were sent urging those companies which had not yet returned their questionnaires to do so at once . Twenty-eight returns in all were received . The responses were carefully checked for obvious errors in the answers or for questions that were apparently not understood by the respondent . The cover letter , questionnaire , and follow-up postcard were then revised into final form ( see Appendixes A , B , and C. D. COMPILATION OF MAILING LISTS The objective of the study was to determine the opinions and practices of small firms selling to defense programs . The firms to receive the questionnaires were selected with this objective in mind . Three lists of companies were made and used in the study . The first was a list of fourteen manufacturing companies located in the state of Washington which were personally known to the research team to be active in defense work . The primary consideration in the compilation of this list was convenience in discussing the questionnaire with company officers . The second list was derived from a group of approximately 8,000 names supplied to the research team by the Aerospace Industries Association . These names were secured from member companies by the Association from the forty-four sources listed in Appendix F. Each source selected from its approved bidders list about 200 firms which it believed to be small businesses that participated in the production of weapons and weapon support systems . Where possible , the name of an executive was supplied along with the company name and address . The forty-four lists supplied by the AIA member companies were merged and duplicate names were eliminated . There was further elimination of all companies that were not accompanied by the name of a responsible company executive . The remaining names were then checked against the Thomas Register list ( see below ) and duplicate names were removed from the AIA lists . By these steps the final AIA list was reduced from 8,000 to 3,500 . The third list was selected by the research team on a random basis from the Thomas Register . It was compiled as a control sample to determine if the opinions and practices of companies on the lists submitted by the members of the Aerospace industries Association were materially different from those of other small firms selling to defense programs . Such a difference might have resulted from : 1 . The fact that the Aerospace Industries Association members whose lists were used did not comprise all firms engaged in defense programs . 2 . The fact that companies on the AIA lists were already participating in the defense program because of the manner of their selection . Accordingly , as " in-group " , they might have different opinions and practices than an " out-group " composed of those companies not so participating but interested in defense business . 3 . The fact that AIA lists might not have been selected on a random basis . The control sample was selected by taking the bottom name of each of the two columns of names on each page of the alphabetical listing of manufacturers in the Thomas Register . If the bottom name in each column did not have a responsible executive identified , the next name above which identified such a responsible executive was substituted . Fifteen hundred names were selected in this fashion . E. MAILING THE QUESTIONNAIRE Each questionnaire was mailed with a cover letter addressed personally to the president or other executive of each firm . The questionnaires were mailed in Seattle , Washington , and sent by regular mail to addresses in the states of Idaho , Montana , Oregon , and Washington . Airmail was used for the addresses outside the Pacific Northwest . Each letter contained a postage-prepaid return envelope by regular mail for addresses in the Pacific Northwest , and by airmail for those outside the Pacific Northwest . Approximately ten days after the questionnaire was mailed , a follow-up airmail postcard was sent to each of the original names . The first test mailing ( to 14 companies ) was made in June , 1960 . The second test mailing ( to 100 companies ) was made in July , 1960 . The final mailing of the questionnaire was made late in August , 1960 , to 4,900 firms consisting of 3,450 from the AIA list and 1,450 from the TR list . F. RETURNS RECEIVED Over 1,000 returns were received within two weeks after the final mailing was made . They continued to arrive until the end of December , 1960 , by which time a total of 1,343 returns were received representing 26.8 per cent of the 5,014 questionnaires sent out . Fifty-seven returns could not be used because they were incomplete or received too late to be processed . The remaining 1,286 returns that were processed came from the categories in Table 2 . G. PROCESSING THE RETURNS Each questionnaire was audited for obvious mistakes and for comments , and was identified by a serial number , by the source list from which the company name was selected , and by the geographical location of the company as determined by the postmark on the return envelope . All responses , except comments , were numerically coded to permit use of data-processing equipment . The codes were key-punched into IBM punch cards and verified . Each return required three cards and involved key punching 228 digital columns . In order to be able to properly relate the data for a single company each of the three cards comprising the set for each firm was identified with the appropriate serial number of the respondent . The cards were then processed using standard IBM punch card equipment , including an IBM 650 computer . The first step in processing was to analyze the returns from Questions 1 , 2 , and 3 to determine whether the respondents were large businesses or small businesses , in accordance with the definitions contained in ASPR Section 1-701. ( see Chapter /2 , ) . The results are shown in Table 3 . The returns from companies classified as large businesses were set aside and not used because they were not relevant to a study of the opinions and practices of small firms . The second step in processing was to compare the responses from companies on the AIA list with those from companies on the TR list in order to determine whether it would be appropriate to merge the responses for the purposes of the study . The methods and results of this comparative analysis are described in Appendix H. It was concluded that it would be appropriate to process the two groups of responses as a single sample of all small businesses engaged in , or wishing to sell to , defense programs . In the first place , the two groups of firms , when combined , had characteristics and practices that were more representative of companies that were the subject of this study than did the firms from the AIA list alone . THE vast Central Valley of California is one of the most productive agricultural areas in the world . During the summer of 1960 , it became the setting for a bitter and basic labor-management struggle . The contestants in this economic struggle are the Agricultural Workers Organizing Committee ( AWOC ) of the AFL-CIO and the agricultural employers of the State . By virtue of the legal responsibilities of the Department of Employment in the farm placement program , we necessarily found ourselves in the middle between these two forces . It is not a pleasant or easy position , but one we have endeavored to maintain . We have sought to be strictly neutral as between the parties , but at the same time we have been required frequently to rule on specific issues or situations as they arose . Inevitably , one side was pleased and the other displeased , regardless of how we ruled . Often the displeased parties interpreted our decision as implying favoritism toward the other . We have consoled ourselves with the thought that this is a normal human reaction and is one of the consequences of any decision in an adversary proceeding . It is disconcerting , nevertheless , to read in a labor weekly , " Perluss knuckles down to growers " , and then to be confronted with a growers ' publication which states , " Perluss recognizes obviously phony and trumped-up strikes as bona fide " . For a number of years , there have been sporadic attempts in California to organize farm workers . These attempts met with little sucess for a variety of reasons . They were inadequately financed , without experienced leadership , and lacked the general support of organized labor as a whole . This past year the pattern has been different : The organizing program had the full support of the AFL-CIO , which supplied staff and money to the AWOC , as well as moral support . Leadership was experienced and skillful , and financial resources were significant . Regardless of where personal sympathies may lie as between the parties , failure to recognize these changed conditions would be to ignore the facts of life . As a result of these changed conditions , the impact of the organizational effort on agricultural labor-management relations has been much greater than in the past . The AWOC has been able to employ the traditional weapons of labor — the strike and the picket line — with considerable success , particularly in the area of wages . By the very nature of the situation , it is the union which has been able to select the time and place to bring pressure upon management . To date , at least , the strategy of the AWOC has been selective ; that is to say , to concentrate on a particular crop or activity in a particular area at a strategic time , rather than any broadside engagement with management throughout an area or the State . Primarily , we became involved in these disputes because of our referral obligations under our farm placement program . Normally , because agricultural labor is not covered by unemployment insurance , we would not expect any issues to arise regarding benefit payments under the trade dispute provision of the Unemployment Insurance Code , although such a situation is quite within the realm of possibility . But the current issues arose out of the Wagner-Peyser Act concerning referrals to an establishment where a labor dispute exists , and out of Public Law 78 and the Migrant Labor Agreement if Mexican nationals were employed at the ranch . Most of us remember and think of the Wagner-Peyser Act in its historical sense , as a major milestone in the development of public placement services . Infrequently do we think of it as a living , continuing , operating control over the system . However , when labor disputes arise , its provisions come clearly into play . California has accepted the provisions of that Act ( as have all other States ) by enacting into our Code ( Section 2051 ) a provision that The State of California accepts the provisions of the Wagner-Peyser Act , … and will observe and comply with the requirements of that act . With respect to labor disputes , the Wagner-Peyser Act states only , In carrying out the provisions of this Act , the Secretary is authorized and directed to provide for the giving of notice of strikes or lock-outs to applicants before they are referred to employment . Other provisions of the Act empower the Secretary to adopt regulations necessary to carry out its provisions , and he has done so . The pertinent regulation for our purposes is Section 602.2 ( b ) , as follows : Referrals in labor dispute situations . No person shall be referred to a position the filling of which will aid directly or indirectly in filling a job which ( 1 ) is vacant because the former occupant is on strike or is being locked out in the course of a labor dispute , or ( 2 ) the filling of which is an issue in a labor dispute . With respect to positions not covered by subparagraph ( 1 ) or ( 2 ) of this paragraph , any individual may be referred to a place of employment in which a labor dispute exists , provided he is given written notice of such dispute prior to or at the time of his referral . In analyzing this regulation , let us take the last sentence first . It permits referrals under certain circumstances even when there is a labor dispute , provided the individual is given written notice of such a dispute . Assume , for example , a situation where a farm has a packing shed and fields . The packing shed workers go on strike . There is no dispute involving fieldwork . We concluded that we may refer workers to the fieldwork ( but not the packing shed work ) provided we give them written notice of the packing shed dispute . So far , no troublesome cases have arisen under this provision . It is the first part of the Regulation that is currently at issue . Note that it prohibits referrals under either condition ( 1 ) or condition ( 2 ) . Employer representatives have contended that the Secretary has gone beyond his authority by such a prohibition , on the grounds that the Wagner-Peyser Act requires only written notice to the prospective worker that a dispute exists . INTO COURT The matter got into the courts this way : One of the early strikes called by the AWOC was at the DiGiorgio pear orchards in Yuba County . We found that a labor dispute existed , and that the workers had left their jobs , which were then vacant because of the dispute . Accordingly , under clause ( 1 ) of the Secretary 's Regulation , we suspended referrals to the employer . ( Incidentally , no Mexican nationals were involved . ) The employer , seeking to continue his harvest , challenged our right to cease referrals to him , and sought relief in the Superior Court of Yuba County . The court issued a temporary restraining order , directing us to resume referrals . We , of course , obeyed the court order . However , the Attorney General of California , at the request of the Secretary of Labor , sought to have the jurisdiction over the issue removed to the Federal District Court , on grounds that it was predominantly a Federal issue since the validity of the Secretary 's Regulation was being challenged . However , the Federal Court held that since the State had accepted the provisions of the Wagner-Peyser Act into its own Code , and presumably therefore also the regulations , it was now a State matter . It accordingly refused to assume jurisdiction , whereupon the California Superior Court made the restraining order permanent . Under that order , we have continued referring workers to the ranch . A similar case arose at the Bowers ranch in Butte County , and the Superior Court of that county issued similar restraining orders . The growers have strenuously argued that I should have accepted the Superior Court decisions as conclusive and issued statewide instructions to our staff to ignore this provision in the Secretary 's Regulation . I can not accept that view , either as a lawyer or as an administrator . LEGAL CONSIDERATIONS First , let us examine briefly some of the legal considerations involved . It is an accepted juridical principle in California that a Superior Court decision does not constitute a binding legal precedent . It is conclusive , unless appealed , only upon the particular parties to the particular action which was heard . It is not binding upon another Superior Court , which could rule to the contrary . Only when a decision is rendered by the District Court of Appeal ( or , of course , the Supreme Court ) is a binding precedent established . In that event , we can correctly say that we have received an authoritative interpretation of the matter , and one which we can follow statewide with confidence that the policy will not be overthrown in other Superior Courts . But over and beyond the compelling need for a binding precedent decision , I am convinced that the decisions of the Superior Courts which in effect nullify the Secretary 's Regulation are not a correct interpretation of the Secretary 's power under the Federal law . I believe I am in good company in this view . The Attorney General of California concurs in this interpretation and has filed an appeal from these decisions to the District Court of Appeal . The Attorney General of the United States , in considering the power of the Secretary to issue similar regulations under the Wagner-Peyser Act relating to the interstate recruitment of farm workers , has rendered an opinion sustaining his authority . Further , and as an evidence of legislative intent only , the Senate of the United States recently defeated by a substantial majority the " Holland Amendment " to the Fair Labor Standards Act , which would have specifically limited the regulatory authority of the Secretary in these matters . Next , let us consider briefly the program and administrative implications of a failure on our part to pursue our appeals . There is far too much at stake for all of the parties concerned to leave the matter hanging in midair . The ramifications of the issue are enormous . A decision to refer workers to jobs vacant because of a strike would have to be applied equally to nonagricultural situations , and might in effect place the public employment services in the position of acting as strikebreakers . The public interest is so dominant in such an issue that I can not be so presumptuous as to attempt to settle it by an administrative order based upon conclusions reached in a summary action in one or two Superior Courts in the State . It is an issue which may well reach the Supreme Court of the United States before judicial finality is achieved . As an administrator , I can not place the Employment Service in California in jeopardy of being out of compliance with the Federal laws by my failure to pursue the avenues of appeal open to me . To have applied statewide the decisions of the two cases heard in Superior Court , in my opinion , would have placed us clearly out of compliance with the Wagner-Peyser Act and would have immediately opened the way for the Secretary of Labor , were he so inclined , to notify the Governor of such noncompliance , set a date for hearing , and issue his finding . The impact of noncompliance under the Wagner-Peyser Act is clear : the withdrawal of some $11 million a year of administrative funds which finance our employment service program or , as a corollary , the taking over by the Federal Government of its operation . Thus far , the cases which have come before the courts have involved only the issue of referral where the job is vacant due to a strike — condition ( 1 ) in the Regulation of the Secretary . None has yet arisen under condition ( 2 ) , relating to referral to jobs " the filling of which is an issue in a labor dispute " . Here the problem is essentially one of defining the word " filling " . Should it be defined in a narrow sense to include only such elements as job specifications , union membership , union jurisdiction , and the like ? Or should it have a broader connotation of including wage demands and other factors not necessarily associated with the mechanics of " filling " the job . Because of the uncertainty of this definition , I solicited the interpretation of the Secretary of Labor . He has advised me that the narrower interpretation is the proper one ; that is , that if wages , for example , is the only issue in a labor dispute , and no workers have left their jobs because of the dispute , we may continue to make referrals . 9 . Martin and Stendler present evidence that infants and young children can and do solve many problems at a relatively simple perceptual level simply by combining objects and counting them . After they have developed concepts , they are free from the necessity of manipulating objects ; they do symbolically what they once had to do concretely . The ability to think seems to increase consistently with age . One experiment showed the greatest one-year difference occurring between the eleventh and twelfth years . 10 . Many studies indicate that elementary-school children 's interests cover the whole field of science ; that their questions indicate a genuine interest in social processes and events ; and that as they mature their interests and capabilities change and broaden . EMOTIONAL CHARACTERISTICS How a child feels about himself , about other people , and about the tasks confronting him in school may have as much influence on his success in school as his physical and intellectual characteristics . A considerable amount of evidence exists to show that an unhappy and insecure child is not likely to do well in school subjects . Emotional maturity is the result of many factors , the principal ones being the experiences of the first few years of the child 's life . However , the teacher who understands the influence of emotions on behavior may be highly influential in helping pupils gain confidence , security , and satisfaction . Concerning this responsibility of the teacher , suggestions for helping children gain better control of the emotions are presented in Chapter 11 . The following generalizations about the emotional characteristics of elementary-school children may be helpful . 1 . Typically , the young child 's emotional reactions last for a relatively short time , as contrasted to those of an adult . 2 . As the child grows older , his emotional reactions lead to " moods " , or emotional states drawn out over a period of time and expressed slowly , rather than in short , abrupt outbursts . 3 . Studies of the growth and decline of children 's fears indicate that fears due to strange objects , noises , falling , and unexpected movement decline during the preschool years , but that fears of the dark , of being alone , and of imaginary creatures or robbers increase . 4 . Ridiculing a child for being afraid or forcing him to meet the feared situation alone are poor ways of dealing with the problem ; more effective solutions include explanations , the example of another child , or conditioning by associating the feared object , place , or person with something pleasant . 5 . Children need help in learning to control their emotions . The young child learns from parents and teachers that temper tantrums , screaming , kicking , and hitting will not get him what he wants ; the older child learns that intense emotional outbursts will not win approval by his peers , and , therefore , makes a real effort to control his emotions . 6 . Children differ widely in their emotional responses . Among infants the patterns of emotional responses are similar ; as the influence of learning and environment are felt , emotional behavior becomes individualized . SOCIAL CHARACTERISTICS Although no national norms exist for the social development of children , the teacher can find a great deal of information concerning types of social behavior normally displayed by children at various age levels . The following summary will give the student some idea about the social characteristics of elementary-school children ; the student will certainly want to explore more deeply into the fascinating study of immature individuals , struggling to meet their developmental needs , and at the same time trying to learn the rules of the game in the ever-expanding number of groups in which they hold membership . 1 . During early childhood , children are more interested in the approval of their parents and teachers than they are in the approval of other children ; after they have been in school a few years , their interest in playmates of their own age increases , and their interest in adults decreases ; the child who had once considered it a treat to accompany his parents on picnics and family gatherings now considers it a bore . In late childhood the influence of the group on the social behavior of the child continues to increase ; the group sets the styles in clothing , the kind of play engaged in , and the ideals of right and wrong behavior . 2 . In early childhood the choice of a companion is likely to be for another child of his own age or a year or two older , who can do the things he likes to do ; such factors as sex , intelligence , and status in the group do not influence his choice much at this time . 3 . In later childhood , an interest in team games replaces individual play ; loyalty to the group , a feeling of superiority over those who are not members , and unwillingness to play with members of the opposite sex become dominant traits . 4 . During early childhood boys tease and bully , on the average , more than girls ; those who feel inferior or insecure engage in these activities more than do well-adjusted children . 5 . During late childhood boys like to tease , jostle , and talk smart to girls ; girls , who are more mature than boys , frown upon the youthful antics of boys of their own age . 6 . By the time pupils reach the sixth grade , their ethical and moral standards are fairly well developed ; they exhibit a keen interest in social , political , and economic problems , but they frequently have vague and incorrect notions about the terms they use rather glibly in their routine school work . 7 . Between the ages of two and four years , negativism or resistance to adult authority is noticeable ; after the fourth year it begins to decline . However , as we have seen , in later childhood the child begins to substitute the standards of the peer group for those of parents and teachers . 8 . The elementary-school child grows gradually in his ability to work in groups . The child in the primary grades can play harmoniously with one companion , but his desire to be first in everything gets him into trouble when the group gets larger ; he wants to be with people , but he has n't yet learned to cooperate . In the middle grades , however , he begins to participate more effectively in group activities such as selecting a leader , helping to make plans and carry on group activities , and setting up rules governing the enterprise . WHY THE TEACHER SHOULD STUDY THE INDIVIDUAL PUPIL Much progress has been made in the last two decades in developing techniques for understanding children , yet in almost any classroom today can be found children whose needs are not being met by the school program . Some are failing to achieve as much as their ability would permit ; others never seem able to enter fully into the life of the classroom . These children have been described as those who were trying to say something to adults who did not understand . Many school systems now employ school psychologists and child guidance specialists . These specialists perform valuable services by helping teachers learn to identify children who need special attention , by suggesting ways of meeting the needs of individual children in the regular classroom , and by providing clinical services for severely maladjusted children . It is the classroom teacher , however , who has daily contacts with pupils , and who is in a unique position to put sound psychological principles into practice . Indeed , a study of the individual child is an integral part of the work of the elementary-school teacher , rather than merely an additional chore . Teachers and administrators in many elementary schools have assumed that dividing the pupils in any grade into groups on the basis of test scores solves the problem of meeting the needs of individuals . What they should recognize is that children who have been placed in one of these groups on a narrow academic basis still differ widely in attributes that influence success , and that they still must be treated as individuals . Although the teacher must be concerned with maintaining standards , he must also be concerned about understanding differences in ability , background , and experience . FACTORS THAT INHIBIT LEARNING AND LEAD TO MALADJUSTMENT Studies conducted in various sections of the United States indicate that many children in elementary schools are maladjusted emotionally , and that many of them are failing to make satisfactory progress in school subjects . One study , which involved 1,524 pupils in grades one to six , found that 12 percent of the pupils were seriously maladjusted and that 23 percent were reading a year below capacity . It is apparent , therefore , that the teacher needs to know what factors have a vital bearing on the learning and adjustment of children . When a child fails to meet the standards of the school in his rate of learning , insecurity , unhappiness , and other forms of maladjustment frequently follow . These maladjustments in turn inhibit learning , and a vicious cycle is completed . It is easy for the teacher to rationalize that the child who is not achieving in accordance with his known ability is just plain lazy , or that the child who lacks interest in school , who dislikes the teacher , or who is overaggressive is a hopeless delinquent . The causes of retardation and maladjustment may be found in physical factors , such as defective speech or hearing , impaired vision , faulty motor coordination , a frail constitution , chronic disease , malnutrition , and glandular malfunctioning . They may be caused by poor health habits , such as faulty eating and sleeping habits . They may be related to mental immaturity or lack of aptitude for certain types of school work . The curriculum may be too difficult for some and too easy for others . Teaching methods , learning materials , and promotion policies may inhibit learning and lead to maladjustments for some children . Unwholesome family relations , broken homes , and undesirable community influences may also be contributing factors . This is only a minimum list of the factors that inhibit learning and contribute to maladjustment among children . Moreover , these conditions do not influence all children in the same manner . A vision handicap that may produce nervous tension and reading disability for one child may spur another child on to even greater achievement in reading . An impoverished home that may discourage one child may constitute the motivation causing another to work harder for successful achievement in school . At any rate , the teacher who recognizes common causes of retardation and maladjustment can frequently do a great deal to eliminate the causes of pupil discouragement , failure , and maladjustment . SOURCES OF INFORMATION ABOUT CHILDREN Successful teaching involves getting enough information about each pupil to understand why he behaves as he does in certain situations and how his achievement in school is being influenced by various factors in his environment . The classroom teacher can not be expected to be as proficient in the use of the techniques of child study as the clinical psychologist ; he can not be expected to administer all the tests and gather all the information needed about each child in his classroom . He can be expected , however , to examine and interpret the information already available ; to refine and extend his own techniques for studying individual children ; and to utilize opportunities , arising in connection with regular classroom activities , for gaining a better understanding of his pupils . This section deals with some of the sources of information that can be tapped by the classroom teacher ; Chapter 15 provides more detailed information about specific techniques used in evaluating pupil progress . CUMULATIVE RECORDS Most school systems today maintain a system of cumulative records of pupils . These records , when systematically maintained , provide much information about the children , which the teacher can use in guidance , instruction , grouping , and reporting to parents . Each teacher has in his classroom a metal file , equipped with a lock , which is used to store cumulative record folders . During summer vacation periods these records are stored in the office of the principal . Only the teacher and other professional personnel are permitted to see or use these records . Each new teacher to whom the pupil goes is expected to study the information in the cumulative record and to bring it up to date . Some school systems provide written instructions to principals and teachers designating when certain information is to be recorded on cumulative record forms and explaining how the information is to be summarized and used . THE SUMMARY REPORT ON DESEGREGATION PROGRESS IN EDUCATION IN THE MIDDLE-SOUTH REGION , 1959-1960 " clearly shows two pieces of information . The Summary Report , which was prepared for this Conference , indicates , first , that actual or pending school desegregation is increasing ; second , that both actual and pending desegregation is , with few exceptions , the product or result of court order . The Report together with other information suggests that desegregation in the schools is slow . The Middle-South Region , as defined by the National Association of Intergroup Relations Officials ( NAIRO ) , consists of the states of Kentucky , Maryland , Tennessee , West Virginia , Delaware , Virginia and the District of Columbia . The states and the Nation 's Capital all have some desegregation , in fact some dating back to 1954 ; but the region also embraces some of the staunchest opposition . Desegregation has been opposed by massive resistance , interposition , pupil assignment ( with no assignments of Negro children ) , and hate bombings . DESEGREGATION AND COURT ORDER Now let 's look at the evidence that shows the increase in desegregation and such increase as a result of court order . First Kentucky . Elementary school desegregation came to Owen and Union Counties , which already had high school desegregation . The action was a result of a court order , the citation for which ( and for other court action mentioned in this paper ) is taken from the Summary Report for this Conference . In Maryland the Harford County Board of Education had prepared a desegregation plan which the Court approved but which a plaintiff had challenged ; thus , county school board and Federal court joined hands here to promote school desegregation . Additional school desegregation in Tennessee resulted from a court order opening a school serving children of military personnel . Similarly , further desegregation may come from suits pending in three Tennessee cities , Chattanooga , Knoxville , and Memphis . In West Virginia the number of white and Negro children attending the same school has increased almost twofold . There are no court decisions here . As in Maryland , a District court has approved an official plan of school desegregation in Delaware . As a result of the State Board of Education plan , Negro children entered heretofore white elementary schools in five districts . The Third Circuit Court of Appeals is reviewing an appeal from the plan . In Virginia court orders led to desegregation in Charlottesville and Floyd Counties . Desegregation in Pulaski County is pending because of court order , although date of admission is not yet determined . Negro parents have filed application for admission of additional children to schools in Alexandria , Arlington , Fairfax , and Warren Counties . Desegregation can also result from additional suits brought by Negro plaintiffs against school boards in Newport News , Fairfax County , Arlington County , and Norfolk . As a school district , the District of Columbia has had desegregated schools since 1954 , shortly after the Supreme Court decision . This recapitulation makes it clear that school desegregation continues , including the Old Dominion State , in spite of its stern resistance . The record is clear that increase in school desegregation last year came largely as a result of a court order ; that on the immediate horizon , if further large-scale ( relatively speaking ) desegregation comes , it will result from court orders on suits filed in several Middle-South states . Knowledge that thousands of school districts are involved and observation that school desegregation has occurred in only a handful in 1959-1960 leads to a conclusion that TOOLONG is slow . Before turning to my views as to the problems and issues before us at this Regional Conference , I wish to note a small item in the Summary Report as it refers to the District of Columbia . That reference in the Report is " continuation of the trend toward an all-Negro school system " , a remark apparently occasioned by the increase of Negro school population from 74.1 per cent to 76.7 per cent . I see no real prospects for an all-Negro school population . West of Rock Creek Park is still monolithically white and is in fact increasingly white as a result of Georgetown 's conversion-by-renovation housing program . Nearby Foggy Bottom is ousting Negroes . The large acreage in the Southwest Redevelopment area beckons white people — what with high-priced town houses and elevator apartments . The Capitol Hill rehabilitation , like Foggy Bottom , replaces Negroes with whites ( but also replaces some whites with other whites ) . The sharpest break with tradition , the past and present of " White Ring Around a Black Core " , may come with the opening of nearby Montgomery County suburbs to Negro residents and , presumably , the consequent conclusion of some whites that they can not escape the Negro by fleeing to the suburbs . In fact , short of fleeing to Warrenton , Virginia , or Rockville , Maryland , white people may have to live with Negroes . All of this must be taken into account before the image of an " all-Negro " D.C. public school system is conjured up . PROBLEMS TO SOLVE From the Summary Report before us at this Conference , a number of problems are apparent . They vex us and perplex us but generally do not divide us like the issues which follow the problems . First , how can we step up the desegregation movement ? It is slow . I believe we all want more schools where white and Negro together can and do attend . I believe we all want no child denied admission to a school on account of his color . In general , members of NAIRO would certainly want a child admitted to a school nearest his residence or within his residence zone . How to achieve this objective is a problem , but we are not divided on what we want . Second , as we increase the number of desegregated school districts and schools themselves , how can we achieve this action through school board action ? It may be county school board or state school board action , as well as that of municipal school boards . Correlatively , can we reduce the role of the district courts , so that the action is that of the people of the community or other school district and not that of the law court ? This is a problem , and I believe there is little difference of opinion that wherever possible a local school board should devise and effect a plan of desegregation . Third , how can we insure a systematic and continuing group relations education in the schools ? Not simply a brief program when the schools are actually desegregated but a continuing program that also promotes integration , that encourages the children and teachers not to look at each other as white or Negro , but as human beings . Again the problem is how to get it done and in what form to offer the group relations education ; not whether it should be done . Fourth , in the segregated school system , during the period before desegregation , how can we assure equal opportunity ? In fact , in the desegregated school system which may have a good many schools with all-Negro population , how can we assure equal opportunity ? This is a problem , but we are not divided over its importance or by its existence . Fifth , in the segregated school system or in the all-Negro or all-white schools , how can we encourage better group relations or an improved attitude toward people who do not belong to the group ? Can we help children adjust to " images of other children " when the latter are not actually present . NOW , THE ISSUES If we have five problems whose solution we seek in relatively united fashion , then there are twice as many issues which , I judge , sharply divide us , intergroup relations practitioners and lay people . ISSUE NO. 1 . PUPIL ASSIGNMENT . Since on the one hand school desegregation has come in Virginia hand-in-glove with pupil assignment , shall we support the plan ? On the basis of pupil assignment criteria , Judge Albert Bryan has assigned Negro children to formerly white schools in Arlington and Alexandria , Virginia . Shall we support pupil assignment ? On the other hand , looking at the larger picture , is it true that pupil assignment has effectively cut off , blocked , or reduced school desegregation to a " trickle " ? Shall we therefore oppose the plan ? This question is an issue because it likely divides us into two camps — those for or against pupil assignment . ISSUE NO. 2 . TEACHER ASSIGNMENT IN ORDER TO DESEGREGATE . In large cities like Baltimore , Louisville , and Washington , D.C. , should school desegregation be extended to all-Negro and all-white schools by assigning white and Negro teachers , respectively ? On the one hand do we argue the Supreme Court decision required only that a child not be denied admission to a school on account of his race ? Or should we argue that if we want adjustment of children to children of different races and that that is impossible in an TOOLONG school , we must at least provide him some opportunity to adjust to people of another race within the school namely , to a teacher of another race . We can argue that where residence makes pupil desegregation impossible teacher assignment can create a partially desegregated situation . ISSUE NO. 3 . THE PLAINTIFF IN SCHOOL DESEGREGATION CASES . The earlier part of my statement deals with the court orders that resulted in desegregation . In each instance the plaintiff was a private citizen . In thousands of school districts , indeed , in the entire State of Mississippi , no plaintiff has come forth . And I have established that the action of municipal , county , or state school boards or boards of education is small , infinitesimally small in comparison with the number of districts . Is the requirement that the plaintiff be a person actually denied admission to a school a sound requirement ? Should Congress authorize the Attorney General to file suit to accomplish admission of a child to a school to which he is denied entrance ? Even though in civil rights legislation in 1957 and 1960 the provision for the Attorney General to act was eliminated , should we nevertheless support such a clause ? This is an issue , for it divides people rather sharply . ISSUE NO. 4 . WITHHOLDING OF FUNDS TO SCHOOLS THAT DENY CHILDREN ON ACCOUNT OF RACE . This is the Powell Amendment , which in 1957 divided even a " liberal " group like the American Veterans Committee ( AVC ) . Should we support a clause in Federal school construction or school assistance legislation that would deny Federal funds to a school district that denies admission to a child on account of his race ? This is softer than earlier Powell amendments which would have denied funds to all segregated school districts . There is nonetheless considerable argument against the clause , softened though it be , on the grounds that Federal aid is so necessary to the public schools . The Federal funds limitation enlists the support of many , the opposition of quite a few . ISSUE NO. 5 . REQUIRED PUBLIC EDUCATION . Should a political subdivision , state or county or municipality , be required to furnish public education ? For the school year , 1959-1960 , the Prince Edward County ( Virginia ) Board of Supervisors voted not to provide funds for public education , and the school board therefore could provide no public education — for white or Negro children . Is public education in this American democracy of such importance that no child should be denied public education ? Or is this subject a matter of self-determination , a matter of states rights or county rights ? If people do n't want to provide public education , should they be forced to do so ? Even if we marshal substantial agreement behind mandatory public education , we likely can not expect that all the states will enact the legislation . Should the requirement , which must therefore be Federal in nature , be legislated by the United States Congress ? Or must it become law by amendment of the United States Constitution ? We actually have two issues in this question — goal and method . ISSUE NO. 6 . FEDERAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR EDUCATION OF THE CITIZENS . If the above issue is settled by requiring public education for all citizens , Issue No. 6 may be moot . If , on the other hand , it is not settled , or while it is being debated and resolved , does the Federal government have a responsibility in situations like that in Prince Edward County ? Nearly half the children still receive no education . Must or should the Federal government help ? Should the government directly provide education for the children who want public education ? The next question is whether board members favor their own social classes in their roles as educational policy-makers . On the whole , it appears that they do not favor their own social classes in an explicit way . Seldom is there an issue in which class lines can be clearly drawn . A hypothetical issue of this sort might deal with the establishment of a free public junior college in a community where there already was a good private college which served the middle-class youth adequately but was too expensive for working-class youth . In situations of this sort the board generally favors the expansion of free education . Campbell studied the records of 172 school board members in twelve western cities over the period of 1931-40 and found " little or no relationship between certain social and economic factors and school board competence " , as judged by a panel of professional educators who studied the voting records on educational issues . The few cases of clear favoritism along social-class lines are as likely as not to involve representatives of the working class on the school board who favor some such practice as higher wages for janitors rather than pay increases for teachers , and such issues are not issues of educational policy . In general , it appears that trustees and board members attempt to represent the public interest in their administration of educational policy , and this is made easier by the fact that the dominant values of the society are middle-class values , which are generally thought to be valid for the entire society . There have been very few cases of explicit conflict of interest between the middle class and any other class in the field of educational policy . If there were more such cases , it would be easier to answer the question whether the policy-makers favor their own social classes . There is currently a major controversy of public education in which group interests and values are heavily engaged . This is the issue of segregated schools in the South . In this case it is primarily a matter of conflict of racial groups rather than social-class groups . Thus , the white middle and lower classes are arrayed against the Negro middle and lower classes . This conflict may be resolved in a way which will suit white middle-class people better than it suits white lower-class people . If this happens , there may be some class conflict in the South , with school boards and school teachers taking the middle-class position . THE EDUCATIONAL PROFESSION The members of the educational profession have a major voice in the determination of educational policy , their position being strongest in the universities . They are mostly upper-middle — and lower-middle-class people , with a few in the upper class . Do they make class-biased decisions ? In a society dominated by middle-class values and working in an institution which transmits and strengthens these social values , it is clear that the educational profession must work for the values which are characteristic of the society . There is no problem here . The problem arises , if it does arise , when the educator has to make a choice or a decision within the area of his professional competence , but which bears some relation to the social structure . For instance , in giving school grades or in making recommendations for the award of a college scholarship , does he consciously or unconsciously favor students of one or another social class ? Again , in deciding on the content and method of his teaching , does he favor a curriculum which will make his students stronger competitors in the race for higher economic status , or does he favor a curriculum which strengthens students in other ways ? The answers to questions such as these certainly depend to some extent upon the educator 's own social-class position and also upon his social history , as well as upon his personality and what he conceives his mission to be as an educator . In a set of case studies of teachers with various social-class backgrounds , Wattenberg illustrates a variety of approaches to students and to teaching which depend upon the teacher 's personality as well as on his social-class background . One upward-mobile teacher may be a hard taskmaster for lower-class pupils because she wants them to develop the attitudes and skills that will enable them to climb , while another upward-mobile teacher may be a very permissive person with lower-class pupils because he knows their disadvantages and deprivations at home , and he hopes to encourage them by friendly treatment . One social-class factor which plays a large part in educational policy today is the fact that a great many school and college teachers are upward mobile from urban lower-class and lower-middle-class families . Their own experience in the social system influences their work and attitudes as teachers . While this influence is a complex matter , depending upon personality factors in the individual as well as upon his social-class experience , there probably are some general statements about social-class background and educational policy that can be made with a fair degree of truth . Teachers who have been upward mobile probably see education as most valuable for their students if it serves students as it has served them ; that is , they are likely to favor a kind of education that has vocational-advancement value . This does not necessarily mean that such teachers will favor vocational education , as contrasted with liberal education , but they are likely to favor an approach to liberal education which has a maximal vocational-advancement value , as against a kind of " pure " liberal education that is not designed to help people get better jobs . There is no doubt that higher education since World War /2 , has moved away from " pure " liberal education toward greater emphasis on technology and specialization . There are several causes for this , one being rapid economic development with increasing numbers of middle-class positions requiring engineering or scientific training . But another cause may lie in the experience of so many new postwar faculty members with their own use of education as a means of social advancement . Compared with the college and university faculty members of the period from 1900 to 1930 , the new postwar faculty members consist of more children of immigrants and more children of urban working-class fathers . Their experience is quite in contrast with that of children of upper — and upper-middle-class native-born parents , who are more likely to regard education as good for its own sake and to discount the vocational emphases in the curriculum . THE " PUBLIC INTEREST " GROUPS Educational policies are formed by several groups who are officially or unofficially appointed to act in the public interest . Legislators are one such group , and state legislators have major responsibility for educational legislation . They generally vote so as to serve their own constituency , and if the constituency should be solidly middle class or solidly lower class , they might be expected to vote and work for middle — or for lower-class interests in education . However , there are relatively few such political constituencies , and , as has been pointed out , there is seldom a clear-cut distinction between the educational interests of one social class and those of another . Another public interest group is the commission of laymen or educators which is appointed to study an educational problem and to make recommendations . Generally these commissions work earnestly to represent the interest of the entire society , as they conceive it . Nevertheless , their conclusions and recommendations can not please everybody , and they often represent a particular economic or political point of view . For instance , there have been two Presidential Commissions on higher education since World War /2 , . President Truman 's Commission on Higher Education tended to take a liberal , expansionist position , while President Eisenhower 's Committee on Education Beyond the High School was slightly more conservative . Both Commissions consisted of upper-middle — and upper-class people , who attempted to act in the public interest . An example of a more definite class bias is noted in proceedings of the Commission on the Financing of Higher Education sponsored by the Association of American Universities and supported by the Rockefeller Foundation and the Carnegie Corporation . This Commission recommended against the use of federal government funds for the assistance of private universities and against a broad program of government-supported scholarships . This might be said to be an upper — or an upper-middle-class bias , but the Commission published as one of its staff studies a book by Byron S. Hollingshead entitled Who Should Go to College ? which recommended a federal government scholarship program . Furthermore , the Commission set up the Council for Financial Aid to Education as a means of encouraging private business to increase its support of private higher education . Thus , the Commission acted with a sense of social responsibility within the area of its own convictions about the problem of government support to private education . Then there are the trustees and officers of the great educational foundations , who inevitably exert an influence on educational decisions by their support or refusal to support various educational programs , experiments , and demonstrations . These people are practically always upper — or upper-middle-class persons , who attempt to act in what they regard as the interest of the entire society . Finally there are the parent organizations and the laymen 's organizations such as the National Association of Parents and Teachers , and the Citizens Committee on Public Schools . These have an upper-middle-class leadership and a middle-class membership , with rare exceptions , where working-class parents are active in local P.-T.A. matters . Like the other policy-making groups , these are middle class in their educational attitudes , and they attempt to act in the general public interest , as they see it . In general it appears that educational decisions and educational policies are made by people who intend to act in the interests of the society as a whole . They are predominantly middle — and upper-class people , and undoubtedly share the values and attitudes of those classes . They may be unaware of the existence of lower-class values and consequently fail to take them into account . But there is very little frank and conscious espousal of the interests of any one social class by the people who have the power to make decisions in education . They think of themselves as trustees for the entire society and try to serve the entire society . ATTEMPTS TO INFLUENCE SOCIAL STRUCTURE THROUGH EDUCATION Educational policy in the United States has as an explicit goal the maximization of economic and cultural opportunity . In so far as this goal is achieved , the society becomes more fluid , artificial barriers to social mobility are reduced , and people at the lower end of the social hierarchy share more fully in the material and cultural goods of society . On the other hand , there is a counterbalancing purpose in education which is to pass on the advantages of the parents to their children . This leads to efforts at exclusiveness through private schools and to the maintenance of social stratification in the schools . Both of these purposes exist side by side without much overt conflict under present conditions . MAXIMIZING ECONOMIC AND CULTURAL OPPORTUNITY The broad expansion of free education results both in raising the average economic and cultural level of the society and in promoting fluidity within the social structure . Fifty years ago the general raising of the school-leaving age to sixteen was an example of this movement . During the past decade the program has been carried on through expansion of free higher education in state universities , state colleges , and community colleges . The reaffirmation of American faith in the comprehensive high school , as expressed in the Conant study , is another indication of the liveliness of the ideal of maximizing opportunity through the equalizing of educational opportunity . The recent federal government 's student-loan program is another step in the direction of making higher education more available to lower-status youth . It is probably more effective than the expanded scholarship programs of the past decade , because the scholarship programs mainly aided the students with the best academic records ( who were usually middle-class ) , and these students tended to use the scholarship funds to go to more expensive colleges . Meanwhile , the private colleges have increased their tuition rates so much that they have raised an economic barrier which dwarfs their scholarship funds . The gains in educational opportunity during the past decade have taken place largely in the publicly supported institutions . Unfortunately , however , and for reasons to be discussed in the following chapter , no rate relationships can be made completely nondiscriminatory as long as all or some of the rates must be set above marginal costs in order to yield adequate revenues . And this fact may explain some of the disagreements among the experts as to the more rational formulas for the apportionment of total costs among different units of service . One such disagreement , which will receive attention in this next chapter , concerns the question whether rates for different kinds of service , in order to avoid the attribute of discrimination , must be made directly proportional to marginal costs , or whether they should be based instead on differences in marginal costs . Here , the choice is that between the horns of a dilemma . TWO MAJOR TYPES OF FULLY DISTRIBUTED COST ANALYSIS 1 . THE DOUBLE-STEP TYPE Despite an ambiguity due to its failure clearly to define " relative costs " , the above exposition of fully distributed costing goes about as far as one can go toward expressing the basic philosophy of the practice . For more explicit expositions , one must distinguish different types of analyses . By all means the most important distinction is that between those total-cost apportionments which superimpose a distribution of admittedly unallocable cost residues on estimates of incremental or marginal costs , and those other apportionments which recognize no difference between true cost allocation and mere total-cost distribution . The first , or double-step , type might also be called the " railroad type " because of its application to railroads ( and other transportation agencies ) by the Cost Section of the Interstate Commerce Commission . The Cost Section distinguishes between ( directly ) variable costs and constant costs in a manner noted in the preceding chapter . The variable costs alone are assigned to the different units of freight traffic as representing " long-run out-of-pocket costs " — a term with a meaning here not distinctly different from that of the economist 's " long-run marginal costs " . There remains a residue of total costs , or total " revenue requirements " which , since it is found to behave as if it were constant over substantial variations in traffic density , is strictly unallocable on a cost-finding basis . Nevertheless , because the Cost Section has felt impelled to make some kind of a distribution of total costs , it has apportioned this residue , which it sometimes calls " burden " , among the units of carload traffic on a basis ( partly ton , partly ton-mile ) which is concededly quite arbitrary from the standpoint of cost determination . In recent years , this burden ( which includes allowances for revenue deficiencies in the passenger business and in less-than-carload freight traffic ! ) has amounted to about one third of those total revenue requirements which the carload freight business is supposed to be called upon to meet . Since this book is concerned only incidentally with railroad rates , it will not attempt to analyze the methods by which the staff of the Interstate Commerce Commission has estimated out-of-pocket costs and apportioned residue costs . Suffice it to say that the usefulness of the latter apportionment is questionable . But in any event , full credit should be given to the Cost Section for its express and overt recognition of a vital distinction too often ignored in utility-cost analyses : namely , that between a cost allocation designed to reflect the actual behavior of costs in response to changes in rates of output of different classes of utility service ; and a mere cost apportionment which somehow spreads among the classes and units of service even those costs that are strictly unallocable from the standpoint of specific cost determination . 2 . THE SINGLE-STEP TYPE We turn now to a type of fully distributed cost analysis which , unlike the " railroad type " , draws no distinction between cost allocation and cost apportionment : the single-step type . It might be called the " public utility " type because of the considerable use to which it has been put in gas and electric utility rate cases . Here no attempt is made , first to determine out-of-pocket or marginal costs and then to superimpose on these costs " reasonably distributed " residues of total costs . Instead , all of the total costs are treated as variable costs , although these costs are divided into costs that are deemed to be functions of different variables . Moreover , whereas in Interstate Commerce Commission parlance " variable cost " means a cost deemed to vary in direct proportion to changes in rate of output , in the type of analysis now under review " variable cost " has been used more broadly , so as to cover costs which , while a function of some one variable ( such as output of energy , or number of customers ) , are not necessarily a linear function . As already noted in an earlier paragraph , the more familiar cost analyses of utility enterprises or utility systems divide the total costs among a number of major classes of service , such as residential , commercial , industrial power , street lighting , etc . This " grand division " permits many costs to be assigned in their entirety to some one class , such as street lighting , or at least to be excluded completely from some important class or classes . High-tension industrial power service , for example , would not be charged with any share of the maintenance costs or capital costs of the low-tension distribution lines . But the major portions of the total costs of a utility business are common or joint to all , or nearly all , classes of customers ; and these costs must somehow be apportioned among the various classes and then must somehow be reapportioned among the units of service in order to report unit costs than can serve as tentative measures of reasonable rates . The general basis on which these common costs are assigned to differently measured units of service will be illustrated by the following highly simplified problem of an electric-utility cost analysis . But before turning to this example , we must distinguish two subtypes of analysis , both of which belong to the single-step type rather than to the double-step type . In the first subtype , the analyst ( following the practice of railroad analysis in this particular respect ) distributes both total operating costs and total annual capital costs ( including an allowance for " cost of capital " or " fair rate of return " ) among the different classes and units of service . Here , an apportionment , say , of $5,000,000 of the total costs to residential service as a class would include an allowance of perhaps 6 per cent as the cost of whatever capital is deemed to have been devoted to the service of the residential consumers . But in the second subtype , which I take to be the one more frequently applied , only the operating expenses and not the " cost of capital " or " fair return " are apportioned directly among the various classes of service . To be sure , the capital investments in ( or , alternatively , the estimated " fair values " of ) the plant and equipment are apportioned among the different classes , as are also the gross revenues received from the sales of the different services . But any resulting excess of revenues received from a given class of service over the operating costs imputed to this class is reported as a " return " realized on the capital investment attributed to the same service . Thus , during any given year ( a ) if the revenues from the residential service are $7,000,000 , ( b ) if the operating expenses imputed to this class of service come to $5,000,000 , and ( c ) if the net investment in ( or value of ) the plant and equipment deemed devoted to this service amounts to $30,000,000 , the cost analyst will report that residential service , in the aggregate , has yielded a return of $2,000,000 or 6-2/3 per cent . Other services will show different rates of return , some probably much lower and some higher . There are obvious reasons of convenience for this practice of excluding " cost of capital " from the direct apportionment of annual costs among the different classes of service — notably , the avoidance of the controversial question what rate of return should be held to constitute " cost of capital " or " fair rate of return " . But the practice is likely to be misleading , since it may seem to support a conclusion that , as long as the revenues from any class of service cover the imputed operating expenses plus some return on capital investment , however low , the rates of charge for this service are compensatory . Needless to say , any such inference would be quite unwarranted . For the reason just suggested , I shall assume the use of the first subtype of fully distributed cost apportionment in the following simplified example . That is to say , an allowance for " cost of capital " will be assumed to be included directly in the cost apportionment . THREE-PART ANALYSIS OF THE COSTS OF AN ELECTRIC UTILITY BUSINESS In order to simplify the exposition of a typical fully apportioned cost analysis , let us assume the application of the analysis to an electric utility company supplying a single city with power generated by its own steam-generation plant . Let us also assume the existence of only one class or type of service , all of which is supplied at the same voltage , phase , etc. to residential , commercial , and industrial customers . This latter assumption will permit us to center attention on the most controversial aspect of modern public utility cost analysis — the distinction among costs that are functions of outputs of the same service measured along different dimensions . Since the company under review is supplying what we are here regarding as only one kind of service , we might suppose that the problem of total cost apportionment would be very simple ; indeed , that it would be limited to a finding of the total annual operating and capital costs of the business , followed by a calculation of this total in terms of annual cost per kilowatt-hour of consumption . In fact , however , the problem is not so simple . For a statement of costs per kilowatt-hour would ignore the fact that many of these costs are not a function of kilowatt-hour output ( or consumption ) of energy . A recognition of multiple cost functions is therefore required . The simplest division , and the one most frequently used ( with subdivisions ) in gas and electric rate cases , is a threefold division of the total operating and capital costs into " customer costs " , " energy " or " volumetric costs " , and " demand " or " capacity " costs . If this threefold division of costs were to have its counterpart in the actual rates of charge for service , as it actually does have in some rates , there would result a three-part rate for any one class of service . For example , the monthly bill of a residential consumer might be the sum of a $1 customer charge , a $5 charge for 250 kilowatt-hours of energy at 2 per kilowatt-hour , and a $2 charge for a maximum demand of 2 kilowatts during the month at the rate of $1 per kilowatt — a total bill of $8 for that month . But our present interest lies in the measurement of costs of service , and only indirectly in rates that may or may not be designed to cover these costs . Let us therefore consider each of the three types of cost in turn , recognizing that this simplified classification is used only for illustrative purposes ; costs actually vary in much more complex ways . 1 . THE CUSTOMER COSTS These are those operating and capital costs found to vary with number of customers regardless , or almost regardless , of power consumption . Included as a minimum are the costs of metering and billing along with whatever other expenses the company must incur in taking on another consumer . These minimum costs may come to $1 per month , more or less , for residential and small commercial customers , although they are substantially higher for large industrial users , who require more costly connections and metering devices . While costs on this order are sometimes separately charged for in residential and commercial rates , in the form of a mere " service charge " , they are more frequently wholly or partly covered by a minimum charge which entitles the consumer to a very small amount of gas or electricity with no further payment . But the really controversial aspect of customer-cost imputation arises because of the cost analyst 's frequent practice of including , not just those costs that can be definitely earmarked as incurred for the benefit of specific customers but also a substantial fraction of the annual maintenance and capital costs of the secondary ( low-voltage ) distribution system — a fraction equal to the estimated annual costs of a hypothetical system of minimum capacity . The preconditions of sociology have remained largely unexamined by the sociologist . Like primitive numbers in mathematics , the entire axiological framework is taken to rest upon its operational worth . But what is the operational worth of a sociology which mimetically reproduces the idea of physical models ? Is it not the task of philosophy to see what intelligible meaning can be assigned to the most sacred canons in social science ? It has become painfully clear that the very attempt to make the language of social research free of values by erecting mathematical and physical models , is itself a conditioned response to a world which pays a premium price for technological manipulation . This push to confine the study of mass behaviour to the measurements of parameters involved in differential equations has led sociology perilously close to the reduction of the word " mass " to mean a small group in which certain relations between all pairs of individuals in such a group can be studied . ( Cf. Rapoport , 1959 : ch. 11 . ) Here I think the role of the philosopher becomes apparent . The simple pragmatic success of the sociology of small groups needs to be questioned . For if the small group notion involves the implicit claim that the phenomena of sociological investigations are of atomic or subatomic proportions , the philosopher needs to know the extent to which such entities are valid . The mere exploration of the unconscious ground of present-day sociology offers a rich vein of philosophical and logical investigation . ( Cf. Brodbeck , 1959 : Ch. 12 . ) A parallel function for philosophy is the study of the relation between perceptions experientially received and conceptions logically formed . Philosophy can supply adequate criteria of meaning in the selection of socially viable categories . This involves a sifting of the empirical and rational elements entering into each social science statement . Merton 's functional sociology may have great practical use in the study of different cultures , yet it is perfectly clear as Nagel ( 1957:247-83 ) and Hempel ( 1959:271-307 ) indicate , that the concept of function in sociology has been built up from physiological and biological models , in which the notions of teleology , i.e. , metaphysical purpose , are central . ( Cf. Chapter /9 , . ) Functionalism as a sociological credo is , therefore , not a direct consequence of observations , but rather an indirect consequence of philosophical inference and judgment . The purpose of this sort of philosophical study of sociology is not to tyrannize but to clarify the principles of social science . It is absurd to speak of philosophy as a superior enterprise to sociology , since the former is a logical , rational discipline , where sociology is essentially descriptive and empirical . Such a position entails the negation of philosophy in its Platonic form as something soaring above and embracing the empirical and mathematical sciences . But contrary to Whitehead , philosophy is not a synonym for Plato . The uses of philosophy as a logical clearing house are manifest to any approach that does not descend to pure sensationalism . However , when philosophy attempts to stand above the sciences , to dictate the conditions of empirical research , it becomes formal metaphysics ; shaping the contours of life to fit the needs of legends . The notion of philosophy as Queen Bee may fit well with authoritarian modes of political ideology , but it has been noted that the price of such an imperial notion of philosophy is the frustration and flagellation of the social sciences . ( Cf. Wetter , 1952 : Pt. /2 , Ch. 5 ; Horowitz 1957b . ) Metaphysics is no longer a direct grappling with nature as it was in antiquity . It has surrendered any claims of description in favor of psychological accounts of nothingness , as in Heidegger 's system ( 1929 ) . Science is mocked for wishing to know nothing of Nothing , in a last ditch effort to save the gods at the expense of men . It is not positivism which has isolated metaphysics from reality by distinguishing between description and prescription . It is simply revealing the state to which metaphysical thinking has fallen during this century . Consider the traditional " four fields " of philosophy : logic , ethics , epistemology and esthetics . It is a commonplace that to the degree these special preserves of past philosophic hunting grounds establish an empirical content and suitable methodological criteria , they move away from philosophy as such . What is left to traditional systems of philosophy is , in effect , only the history of these fields prior to their becoming rigorous enough to abide by the canons of scientific method . In this situation , philosophy has survived by separating itself from metaphysics , by showing the ultimate questions to be the meaningless questions . The relinquishing by philosophy of pretentious claims to empirical priority gives it an ability to treat problems of meaning and truth which in the past it was unable to examine because of its missionary attitude to knowledge of more humble sorts . In the new situation , philosophy is able to provide the social sciences with the same guidance that mathematics offers the physical sciences , a reservoir of logical relations that can be used in framing hypotheses having explanatory and predictive value . Beyond this , philosophy may urge the social sciences forward by asking the type of question that falls outside the present scope of social inquiry , but within its potential domain of relevance . In this connection , it might be noted that the theory of games was a mathematical discovery long before its uses in political science were exploited . Likewise , Kant formulated the nebular hypothesis , according to which the solar system was evolved from a rotating mass of incandescent gas , nearly a half century before its scientific value was made plain by Laplace in his Systeme du Monde . This does not mean that philosophy resolves the problems it generates , any more so than Riemann 's geometry settled the physical status of the space-time continuum . But the forceful presentation of new issues for the sciences to work on is itself a monumental task . To those raised on Marcel 's Homo Viator and Heidegger 's das Nichtige , this may seem a modest role for philosophy . However , modesty and triviality are different qualities . Philosophy conceived of as servant to the sciences might appear as less dramatic than philosophy which jeers as the sciences evolve . The ceaseless effort to understand and measure the distance mankind has traversed since its primitive anthropological status offers a more durable sort of drama . By clarifying fundamental premises in the social sciences , and defining the logical problems emergent at the borderlands of each new scientific discipline , philosophy can offer the sort of distinction that can accelerate growth in human understanding . Philosophy can prevent the working scientist from becoming slothful and self-content by noting the assumptions and level at which a hypothesis or theory is framed . The dissection of scientific theory , the examination of a theory from the vantage-points of language , epistemology , and ethics , is itself a distinct contribution to knowledge , no less so because of its removal from empirical research . The realm of science , whatever the degree of precision in formulations , covers the range of prediction and explanation . ( Cf. Hempel and Oppenheim , 1948:135-75 . ) Whatever philosophy is conceived to be , its rationalist , logistic attitude to evidence should make it clear that it is something other than science . For some forms of philosophy , this very division between the empirical and the rational becomes a sign of the metaphysical superiority of the latter . Bergson and Leroy announce that " the secret is the center of a philosophy " and thereafter a hundred followers declare secrecy a higher verity . This is simply a confession of intellectual sterility spruced up to look virtuous . For as Merleau-Ponty indicated ( 1953 ) , it is not the secret which is important , but the removal of secrecy . In this , philosophy and science share a common goal . The hypostatization of the secret nonetheless guarantees that the division of analytical and synthetic philosophies shall not be overcome by even the most persuasive argument ; for this division is but an abstract representation of the social struggle between mysticism and science . The mystification of metaphysical systems does not imply the demise of philosophy , only the close of a philosophic age which demanded metaphysics to be rational and logical . The tenacity with which present metaphysical attitudes fetishize private intuition offers the strongest evidence that the gulf between scientific and delphic ways of philosophizing is built into the present conflict over the limits and purpose of science , religion and ideology . ( Cf. McGlynn : 1958 . ) Scientific systems , and this includes even the relation of mechanist to relativist physics , are built upon , refined and corrected . Philosophic systems , by the very nature of their completeness , are overthrown by rival systems . In addition to the incompleteness of science and the completeness of metaphysics , they differ in that science is essentially descriptive , while philosophy in its inherited forms , tends to be goal-oriented , teleological and prescriptive . The threadbare notion that belief , unlike behaviour , is not subject to objective analysis , has placed intuitive metaphysics squarely against the sociology of knowledge , since it is precisely the job of the sociology of knowledge to treat beliefs as social facts no less viable than social behaviour . When dealing with the actual relation of philosophy to the sociology of knowledge , or better the role of philosophy in assisting research on the social sources of ideas , one has to become necessarily selective . Certain features we have touched upon : philosophy as a logical , deductive system from which a social science methodology can be built up ; philosophic analysis of the assumptions and presumptions of the social sciences ; and philosophy as a guide to possible integration of supposedly disparate sociological investigations . The objection will be raised that the most important role of philosophy in relation to social science has been omitted , namely the status of ultimate value questions and norms operative in the social sciences . Specifically , it will be asked whether the " real " questions people ask are not the " ultimate " questions that social science finds itself impotent in the face of . What then is the status of such questions as : is society the ground of human existence or a means to an individual goal ? Do societies develop according to cosmic patterns or are they subject only to the free choice of individuals ? Does society really exist as an entity over and above the agglomeration of men ? I think it must be said that , contrary to metaphysical insistence , these are questions so framed as to defy either empirical exploration or rational solutions . As Simmel ( 1908 ) and Dilthey ( 1922 ) indicated , questions of whether the value of life is individual or social are not questions , but assertions of faith made to appear as legitimate questions . Such pseudo-questions assume that answers of concrete significance can be supplied to statements involving undefined universals . Social theory has no more right to expect results from meaningless questions , than physics has the right to expect a theological solution to the wave-particle controversy . It is not that such questions are not asked . It is rather that introducing them into social analysis reflects not so much a search for truth as for certainty . An operational approach to sociology can never expect abstract certainty , since it is certainty which every new discovery in science either replaces or reshapes . To raise the added objection that men require certainty on psychological grounds , answers to ultimate questions having an irrational rather than scientific basis , is in a real sense to undermine the objection itself . For what concerns all scientific disciplines is precisely that which can be captured for the rational , i.e. , for the scientific determination of what in past ages was considered ultimate and irrational . A philosophy which attempts to supply ultimate answers in an ultimate way reveals its acquiescence in the shortcomings of men , an impatience with partial , tentative solutions . Men have always lived in a tentative world , and in suspension of ultimate judgments where and when necessary . Uncertainty overcoming itself is the precondition of the quest for new and more precise information about the world . Without such uncertainty we are left with a set of dogmas and myths . The functional interplay of philosophy and science should , as a minimum , guarantee a meaningful option to myth-making . A degree of indefiniteness is a salutary condition for the growth of science . But neither was the statement empirical , for goodness was not a quality like red or squeaky that could be seen or heard . What were they to do , then , with these awkward judgments of value ? To find a place for them in their theory of knowledge would require them to revise the theory radically , and yet that theory was what they regarded as their most important discovery . It appeared that the theory could be saved in one way only . If it could be shown that judgments of good and bad were not judgments at all , that they asserted nothing true or false , but merely expressed emotions like " Hurrah " or " Fiddlesticks " , then these wayward judgments would cease from troubling and weary heads could be at rest . This is the course the positivists took . They explained value judgments by explaining them away . Now I do not think their view will do . But before discussing it , I should like to record one vote of thanks to them for the clarity with which they have stated their case . It has been said of John Stuart Mill that he wrote so clearly that he could be found out . This theory has been put so clearly and precisely that it deserves criticism of the same kind , and this I will do my best to supply . The theory claims to show by analysis that when we say , " That is good " , we do not mean to assert a character of the subject of which we are thinking . I shall argue that we do mean to do just that . Let us work through an example , and the simpler and commoner the better . There is perhaps no value statement on which people would more universally agree than the statement that intense pain is bad . Let us take a set of circumstances in which I happen to be interested on the legislative side and in which I think every one of us might naturally make such a statement . We come upon a rabbit that has been caught in one of the brutal traps in common use . There are signs that it has struggled for days to escape and that in a frenzy of hunger , pain , and fear , it has all but eaten off its own leg . The attempt failed : the animal is now dead . As we think of the long and excruciating pain it must have suffered , we are very likely to say : " It was a bad thing that the little animal should suffer so " . The positivist tells us that when we say this we are only expressing our present emotion . I hold , on the contrary , that we mean to assert something of the pain itself , namely , that it was bad — bad when and as it occurred . Consider what follows from the positivist view . On that view , nothing good or bad happened in the case until I came on the scene and made my remark . For what I express in my remark is something going on in me at the time , and that of course did not exist until I did come on the scene . The pain of the rabbit was not itself bad ; nothing evil was happening when that pain was being endured ; badness , in the only sense in which it is involved at all , waited for its appearance till I came and looked and felt . Now that this is at odds with our meaning may be shown as follows . Let us put to ourselves the hypothesis that we had not come on the scene and that the rabbit never was discovered . Are we prepared to say that in that case nothing bad occurred in the sense in which we said it did ? Clearly not . Indeed we should say , on the contrary , that the accident of our later discovery made no difference whatever to the badness of the animal 's pain , that it would have been every whit as bad whether a chance passer-by happened later to discover the body and feel repugnance or not . If so , then it is clear that in saying the suffering was bad we are not expressing our feelings only . We are saying that the pain was bad when and as it occurred and before anyone took an attitude toward it . The first argument is thus an ideal experiment in which we use the method of difference . It removes our present expression and shows that the badness we meant would not be affected by this , whereas on positivist grounds it should be . The second argument applies the method in the reverse way . It ideally removes the past event , and shows that this would render false what we mean to say , whereas on positivist grounds it should not . Let us suppose that the animal did not in fact fall into the trap and did not suffer at all , but that we mistakenly believe it did , and say as before that its suffering was an evil thing . On the positivist theory , everything I sought to express by calling it evil in the first case is still present in the second . In the only sense in which badness is involved at all , whatever was bad in the first case is still present in its entirety , since all that is expressed in either case is a state of feeling , and that feeling is still there . And our question is , is such an implication consistent with what we meant ? Clearly it is not . If anyone asked us , after we made the remark that the suffering was a bad thing , whether we should think it relevant to what we said to learn that the incident had never occurred and no pain had been suffered at all , we should say that it made all the difference in the world , that what we were asserting to be bad was precisely the suffering we thought had occurred back there , that if this had not occurred , there was nothing left to be bad , and that our assertion was in that case mistaken . The suggestion that in saying something evil had occurred we were after all making no mistake , because we had never meant anyhow to say anything about the past suffering , seems to me merely frivolous . If we did not mean to say this , why should we be so relieved on finding that the suffering had not occurred ? On the theory before us , such relief would be groundless , for in that suffering itself there was nothing bad at all , and hence in its nonoccurrence there would be nothing to be relieved about . The positivist theory would here distort our meaning beyond recognition . So far as I can see , there is only one way out for the positivist . He holds that goodness and badness lie in feelings of approval or disapproval . And there is a way in which he might hold that badness did in this case precede our own feeling of disapproval without belonging to the pain itself . The pain in itself was neutral ; but unfortunately the rabbit , on no grounds at all , took up toward this neutral object an attitude of disapproval and that made it for the first time , and in the only intelligible sense , bad . This way of escape is theoretically possible , but since it has grave difficulties of its own and has not , so far as I know , been urged by positivists , it is perhaps best not to spend time over it . I come now to a third argument , which again is very simple . When we come upon the rabbit and make our remark about its suffering being a bad thing , we presumably make it with some feeling ; the positivists are plainly right in saying that such remarks do usually express feeling . But suppose that a week later we revert to the incident in thought and make our statement again . And suppose that the circumstances have now so changed that the feeling with which we made the remark in the first place has faded . The pathetic evidence is no longer before us ; and we are now so fatigued in body and mind that feeling is , as we say , quite dead . In these circumstances , since what was expressed by the remark when first made is , on the theory before us , simply absent , the remark now expresses nothing . It is as empty as the word " Hurrah " would be when there was no enthusiasm behind it . And this seems to me untrue . When we repeat the remark that such suffering was a bad thing , the feeling with which we made it last week may be at or near the vanishing point , but if we were asked whether we meant to say what we did before , we should certainly answer Yes . We should say that we made our point with feeling the first time and little or no feeling the second time , but that it was the same point we were making . And if we can see that what we meant to say remains the same , while the feeling varies from intensity to near zero , it is not the feeling that we primarily meant to express . I come now to a fourth consideration . We all believe that toward acts or effects of a certain kind one attitude is fitting and another not ; but on the theory before us such a belief would not make sense . Broad and Ross have lately contended that this fitness is one of the main facts of ethics , and I suspect they are right . But that is not exactly my point . My point is this : whether there is such fitness or not , we all assume that there is , and if we do , we express in moral judgments more than the subjectivists say we do . Let me illustrate . In his novel The House of the Dead , Dostoevsky tells of his experiences in a Siberian prison camp . Whatever the unhappy inmates of such camps are like today , Dostoevsky 's companions were about as grim a lot as can be imagined . " I have heard stories " , he writes , " of the most terrible , the most unnatural actions , of the most monstrous murders , told with the most spontaneous , childishly merry laughter " . Most of us would say that in this delight at the killing of others or the causing of suffering there is something very unfitting . If we were asked why we thought so , we should say that these things involve great evil and are wrong , and that to take delight in what is evil or wrong is plainly unfitting . Now on the subjectivist view , this answer is ruled out . For before someone takes up an attitude toward death , suffering , or their infliction , they have no moral quality at all . There is therefore nothing about them to which an attitude of approval or condemnation could be fitting . They are in themselves neutral , and , so far as they get a moral quality , they get it only through being invested with it by the attitude of the onlooker . But if that is true , why is any attitude more fitting than any other ? Would applause , for example , be fitting if , apart from the applause , there were nothing good to applaud ? Would condemnation be fitting if , independently of the condemnation , there were nothing bad to condemn ? In such a case , any attitude would be as fitting or unfitting as any other , which means that the notion of fitness has lost all point . Indeed we are forced to go much farther . If goodness and badness lie in attitudes only and hence are brought into being by them , those men who greeted death and misery with childishly merry laughter are taking the only sensible line . If there is nothing evil in these things , if they get their moral complexion only from our feeling about them , why should n't they be greeted with a cheer ? To greet them with repulsion would turn what before was neutral into something bad ; it would needlessly bring badness into the world ; and even on subjectivist assumptions that does not seem very bright . On the other hand , to greet them with delight would convert what before was neutral into something good ; it would bring goodness into the world . The injured German veteran was a former miner , twenty-four years old , who had been wounded by shrapnel in the back of the head . This resulted in damage to the occipital lobe and very probably to the left side of the cerebellum also . In any event , the extraordinary result of this injury was that he became " psychically blind " , while at the same time , apparently , the sense of touch remained essentially intact . Psychical blindness is a condition in which there is a total absence of visual memory-images , a condition in which , for example , one is unable to remember something just seen or to conjure up a memory-picture of the visible appearance of a well-known friend in his absence . This circumstance in the patient 's case plus the fact that his tactual capacity remained basically in sound working order constitutes its exceptional value for the problem at hand since the evidence presented by the authors is overwhelming that , when the patient closed his eyes , he had absolutely no spatial ( that is , third-dimensional ) awareness whatsoever . The necessary inference , as the authors themselves interpret it , would seem to be this : " ( 1 ) Spatial qualities are not among those grasped by the sense of touch , as such . We do not arrive at spatial images by means of the sense of touch by itself . ( 2 ) Spatiality becomes part of the tactual sensation only by way of visual representations ; that is , there is , in the true sense , only a visual space " . The underlying assumption , of course , is that only sight and touch enable us , in any precise and fully dependable way , to locate objects in space beyond us , the other senses being decidedly inferior , if not totally inadequate , in this regard . This is an assumption with which few would be disposed to quarrel . Therefore , if the sense of touch is functioning normally and there is a complete absence of spatial awareness in a psychically-blind person when the eyes are closed and an object is handled , the conclusion seems unavoidable that touch by itself can not focus and take possession of the third-dimensionality of things and that actual sight or visual representations are necessary . The force of the authors ' analysis ( if indeed it has any force ) can be felt by the reader , I believe , only after three questions have been successfully answered . ( 1 ) What allows us to think that the patient had no third-dimensional representations when his eyes were closed ? ( 2 ) What evidence is there that he was psychically blind ? ( 3 ) How can we be sure that his sense of touch was not profoundly disturbed by his head injury ? We shall consider these in the inverse order of their presentation . Obviously , a satisfactory answer to the third question is imperative , if the argument is to get under way at all , for if there is any possibility of doubt whether the patient 's tactual sensitivity had been impaired by the occipital lesion , any findings whatsoever in regard to the first question become completely ambiguous and fail altogether , of course , as evidence to establish the desired conclusion . The answer the authors give to it , therefore , is of supreme importance . It is as follows : " The usual sensitivity tests showed that the specific qualities of skin-perceptiveness ( pressure , pain , temperature ) , as well as the kinesthetic sensations ( muscular feelings , feelings in the tendons and joints ) , were , as such , essentially intact , although they seemed , in comparison with normal reactions , to be somewhat diminished over the entire body . The supposed tactual sense of spatial location and orientation in the patient and his ability to specify the location of a member , as well as the direction and scope of a movement , passively executed ( with one of his members ) , proved to have been , on the contrary , very considerably affected " . The authors insist , however , that these abnormalities in the sense of touch were due absolutely to no organic disorders in that sense faculty but rather to the injuries which the patient had sustained to the sense of sight . First of all , what is their evidence that the tactual apparatus was fundamentally undamaged ? ( 1 ) When an object was placed in the patient 's hand , he had no difficulty determining whether it was warm or cold , sharp or blunt , rough or smooth , flexible , soft , or hard ; and he could tell , simply by the feel of it , whether it was made of wood , iron , cloth , rubber , and so on . And he could recognize , by touch alone , articles which he had handled immediately before , even though they were altogether unfamiliar to him and could not be identified by him ; that is , he was unaware what kind of objects they were or what their use was . ( 2 ) The patient attained an astonishing efficiency in a new trade . Because of his brain injury and the extreme damage suffered to his sight , the patient had to train himself for a new line of work , that of a portfolio-maker , an occupation requiring a great deal of precision in the making of measurements and a fairly well-developed sense of form and contour . It seems clear , when one takes into consideration the exceedingly defective eyesight of the patient ( we shall describe it in detail in connection with our second question , the one concerning the psychical blindness of the patient ) , that he had to rely on his sense of touch much more than the usual portfolio-maker and that consequently that faculty was most probably more sensitive to shape and size than that of a person with normal vision . And so the authors conclude : " The conduct of the patient in his every-day life and in his work , even more than the foregoing facts [ mentioned above under 1 ] , leave positively no room for doubt that the sense of touch , in the ordinary sense of the word , was unaffected ; or , to put the same thing in physiological terms , that the performance-capacity of the tactual apparatus , from the periphery up to the tactual centers in the brain , — that is , from one end to the other — was unimpaired " . If the argument is accepted as essentially sound up to this point , it remains for us to consider whether the patient 's difficulties in orienting himself spatially and in locating objects in space with the sense of touch can be explained by his defective visual condition . But before we can do this , we must first find answers to our original questions 1 and 2 ; then we shall perhaps be in a position to provide something like a complete answer to the question at hand . In what ways , then , did the patient 's psychical blindness manifest itself ? He could not see objects as unified , self-contained , and organized figures , as a person does with normal vision . The meaning of this , as we shall see , is that he had no fund of visual memory-images of objects as objects ; and , therefore , he could not recognize even long-familiar things upon seeing them again . Instead , he constantly became lost in parts and components of them , confused some of their details with those of neighboring objects , and so on , unless he allowed time to " trace " the object in question through minute movements of the head and hands and in this way to discover its contours . According to his own testimony , he never actually saw things as shaped but only as generally amorphous " blots " of color of a more or less indefinite size ; at their edges they slipped pretty much out of focus altogether . But by the tracing procedure , he could , in a strange obviously kinesthetic manner , find the unseen form ; could piece , as it were , the jumbled mass together into an organized whole and then recognize it as a man or a triangle or whatever it turned out to be . If , however , the figure to be discerned were complicated , composed of several interlocking subfigures , and so on , even the tracing process failed him , and he could not focus even relatively simple shapes among its parts . This meant , concretely , that the patient could not read at all without making writing-like movements of the head or body , became easily confused by " hasher marks " inserted between hand-written words and thus confused the mark for one of the letters , and could recognize a simple straight line or a curved one only by tracing it . The patient himself denied that he had any visual imagery at all ; and there was ample evidence of the following sort to corroborate him . After a conversation with another man , he was able to recount practically everything that had been said but could not describe at all what the other man looked like . Nor could he call up memory-pictures of close friends or relatives . In short , both his own declarations and his figural blindness , when he looked at objects , seem to present undeniable evidence that he had simply no visual memory at all . He was oblivious of the form of the object actually being viewed , precisely because he could not assign it to a visual shape , already learned and held in visual memory , as persons of normal vision do . He could not recognize it ; he was absolutely unfamiliar with it because he had no visual memory at all . Therefore , his only recourse was to learn the shape all over again for each new visual experience of the same individual object or type of object ; and this he could do only by going over its mass with the tracing procedure . Then he might finally recognize it , apparently by combining the visual blot , actually being seen , with tactual feelings in the head or body accompanying the tracing movements . This would mean , it can readily be seen , that , again , for each new visual experience the tracing motions would have to be repeated because of the absence of visual imagery . As one would surmise , the procedure , however , could be repeated with the same object or with the same type of object often enough , so that the corresponding visual blots and the merest beginning of the tracing movement would provide clues as to the actual shape , which the patient then immediately could determine by a kind of inference . Men , trees , automobiles , houses , and so on — objects continually confronted in everyday life — had each its characteristic blot-appearance and became easily recognizable , at the very beginning of tracing , by an inference as to what each was . Dice , for example , he inferred from black dots on a white surface . He evidently could not actually see the corners of these objects , but their size and the dots gave them away . And the authors give numerous instances of calculated guessing on the patient 's part to show how large a role it played in his process of readapting himself and how proficient he became at it . Often he seems even to have been able to guess correctly , without the tracing motions , solely on the basis of qualitative differences among the blot-like things which appeared in his visual experience . Perhaps the very important question — What is , then , exactly the role of kinesthetic sensations in the patient 's ability to recognize forms and shapes by means of the tracing movements when he is actually looking at things ? — has now been raised in the reader 's mind and in the following form . If the patient can perceive figure kinesthetically when he can not perceive it visually , then , it would seem , the sense of touch has immediate contact with the spatial aspects of things in independence of visual representations , at least in regard to two dimensions , and , as we shall see , even this much spatial awareness on the part of unaided touch is denied by the authors . How , then , do the kinesthetic sensations function in all this ? The authors set about answering this fundamental question through a detailed investigation of the patient 's ability , tactually , ( 1 ) to perceive figure and ( 2 ) to locate objects in space , with his eyes closed ( or turned away from the object concerned ) . Quite naturally , they make the investigation , first , by prohibiting the patient from making any movements at all and then , later , by repeating it and allowing the patient to move in any way he wanted to . When the patient was not allowed to move his body in any way at all , the following striking results occurred . Whenever artists , indeed , turned to actual representations or molded three-dimensional figures , which were rare down to 800 B.C. , they tended to reflect reality ( see Plate 6a , 9b ) ; a schematic , abstract treatment of men and animals , by intent , rose only in the late eighth century . To speak of this underlying view of the world is to embark upon matters of subjective judgment . At the least , however , one may conclude that Geometric potters sensed a logical order ; their principles of composition stand very close to those which appear in the Homeric epics and the hexameter line . Their world , again , was a still simple , traditional age which was only slowly beginning to appreciate the complexity of life . And perhaps an observer of the vases will not go too far in deducing that the outlook of their makers and users was basically stable and secure . The storms of the past had died away , and the great upheaval which was to mark the following century had not yet begun to disturb men 's minds . Throughout the work of the later ninth century a calm , severe serenity displays itself . In the vases this spirit may perhaps at times bore or repel one in its internal self-satisfaction , but the best of the Geometric pins have rightly been considered among the most beautiful ever made in the Greek world . The ninth century was in its artistic work " the spiritually freest and most self-sufficient between past and future " , and the loving skill spent by its artists upon their products is a testimonial to their sense that what they were doing was important and was appreciated . THE AEGEAN IN 800 B.C. GEOMETRIC POTTERY has not yet received the thorough , detailed study which it deserves , partly because the task is a mammoth one and partly because some of its local manifestations , as at Argos , are only now coming to light . From even a cursory inspection of its many aspects , however , the historian can deduce several fundamental conclusions about the progress of the Aegean world down to 800 B.C. The general intellectual outlook which had appeared in the eleventh century was now consolidated to a significant degree . Much which was in embryo in 1000 had become reasonably well developed by 800 . In this process the Minoan-Mycenaean inheritance had been transmuted or finally rejected ; the Aegean world which had existed before 1000 differed from that which rises more clearly in our vision after 800 . Those modern scholars who urge that we must keep in mind the fundamental continuity of Aegean development from earliest times — granted occasional irruptions of peoples and ideas from outside — are correct ; but all too many observers have been misled by this fact into minimizing the degree of change which took place in the early first millennium . The focus of novelty in this world now lay in the south-eastern districts of the Greek mainland , and by 800 virtually the entire Aegean , always excepting its northern shores , had accepted the Geometric style of pottery . While Protogeometric vases usually turn up , especially outside Greece proper , together with as many or more examples of local stamp , these " non-Greek " patterns had mostly vanished by the later ninth century . In their place came local variations within the common style — tentative , as it were , in Protogeometric products but truly distinct and sharply defined as the Geometric spirit developed . Attica , though important , was not the only teacher of this age . One can take a vase of about 800 B.C. and , without any knowledge of its place of origin , venture to assign it to a specific area ; imitation and borrowing of motifs now become ascertainable . The potters of the Aegean islands thus stood apart from those of the mainland , and in Greece itself Argive , Corinthian , Attic , Boeotian , and other Geometric sequences have each their own hallmarks . These local variations were to become ever sharper in the next century and a half . The same conclusions can be drawn from the other physical evidence of the Dark ages , from linguistic distribution , and from the survivals of early social , political , and religious patterns into later ages . By 800 B.C. the Aegean was an area of common tongue and of common culture . On these pillars rested that solid basis for life and thought which was soon to be manifested in the remarkably unlimited ken of the Iliad . Everywhere within the common pattern , however , one finds local diversity ; Greek history and culture were enduringly fertilized , and plagued , by the interplay of these conjoined yet opposed factors . Further we can not go , for the Dark ages deserve their name . Many aspects of civilization were not yet sufficiently crystallized to find expression , nor could the simple economic and social foundations of this world support a lofty structure . The epic poems , the consolidation of the Greek pantheon , the rise of firm political units , the self-awareness which could permit painted and sculptured representations of men — all these had to await the progress of following decades . What we have seen in this chapter , we have seen only dimly , and yet the results , however general , are worth the search . These are the centuries in which the inhabitants of the Aegean world settled firmly into their minds and into their institutions the foundations of the Hellenic outlook , independent of outside forces . To interpret , indeed , the era from 1000 to 800 as a period mainly of consolidation may be a necessary but unfortunate defect born of our lack of detailed information ; if we could see more deeply , we probably would find many side issues and wrong turnings which came to an end within the period . The historian can only point out those lines which were major enough to find reflection in our limited evidence , and must hope that future excavations will enrich our understanding . Throughout the Dark ages , it is clear , the Greek world had been developing slowly but consistently . The pace could now be accelerated , for the inhabitants of the Aegean stood on firm ground . CHAPTER 5 THE EARLY EIGHTH CENTURY THE LANDSCAPE of Greek history broadens widely , and rather abruptly , in the eighth century B.C. , the age of Homer 's " rosy-fingered Dawn " . The first slanting rays of the new day can not yet dispel all the dark shadows which lie across the Aegean world ; but our evidence grows considerably in variety and shows more unmistakably some of the lines of change . For this period , as for earlier centuries , pottery remains the most secure source ; the ceramic material of the age is more abundant , more diversified , and more indicative of the hopes and fears of its makers , who begin to show scenes of human life and death . Figurines and simple chapels presage the emergence of sculpture and architecture in Greece ; objects in gold , ivory , and bronze grow more numerous . Since writing was practiced in the Aegean before the end of the century , we may hope that the details of tradition will now be occasionally useful . Though it is not easy to apply the evidence of the Iliad to any specific era , this marvelous product of the epic tradition had certainly taken definitive shape by 750 . The Dipylon Geometric pottery of Athens and the Iliad are amazing manifestations of the inherent potentialities of Greek civilization ; but both were among the last products of a phase which was ending . Greek civilization was swirling toward its great revolution , in which the developed qualities of the Hellenic outlook were suddenly to break forth . The revolution was well under way before 700 B.C. , and premonitory signs go back virtually across the century . The era , however , is Janus-faced . While many tokens point forward , the main achievements stand as a culmination of the simple patterns of the Dark ages . The dominant pottery of the century was Geometric ; political organization revolved about the basileis ; trade was just beginning to expand ; the gods who protected the Greek countryside were only now putting on their sharply anthropomorphic dress . The modern student , who knows what was to come next , is likely to place first the factors of change which are visible in the eighth century . Not all men of the period would have accepted this emphasis . Many potters clung to the past the more determinedly as they were confronted with radically new ideas ; the poet of the Iliad deliberately archaized . Although it is not possible to sunder old and new in this era , I shall consider in the present chapter primarily the first decades of the eighth century and shall interpret them as an apogee of the first stage of Greek civilization . On this principle of division I must postpone the evolution of sculpture , architecture , society , and politics ; for the developments in these areas make sense only if they are connected to the age of revolution itself . The growing contacts between Aegean and Orient are also a phase which should be linked primarily to the remarkable broadening of Hellenic culture after 750 . We shall not be able entirely to pass over these connections to the East as we consider Ripe Geometric pottery , the epic and the myth , and the religious evolution of early Greece ; the important point , however , is that these magnificent achievements , unlike those of later decades , were only incidentally influenced by Oriental models . The antecedents of Dipylon vases and of the Iliad lie in the Aegean past . DIPYLON POTTERY THE POTTERY of the first half of the eighth century is commonly called Ripe Geometric . The severe yet harmonious vases of the previous fifty years , the Strong Geometric style of the late ninth century , display as firm a mastery of the principles underlying Geometric pottery ; but artists now were ready to refine and elaborate their inheritance . The vases which resulted had different shapes , far more complex decoration , and a larger sense of style . Beyond the aesthetic and technical aspects of this expansion we must consider the change in pottery style on broader lines . In earlier centuries men had had enough to do in rebuilding a fundamental sense of order after chaos . They had had to work on very simple foundations and had not dared to give rein to impulses . The potters , in particular , had virtually eschewed freehand drawing , elaborate motifs , and the curving lines of nature , while yet expressing a belief that there was order in the universe . In their vases were embodied the basic aesthetic and logical characteristics of Greek civilization , at first hesitantly in Protogeometric work , and then more confidently in the initial stages of the Geometric style . By 800 social and cultural security had been achieved , at least on a simple plane ; it was time to take bigger steps , to venture on experiments . Ripe Geometric potters continued to employ the old syntax of ornaments and shapes and made use of the well-defined though limited range of motifs which they had inherited . In these respects the vases of the early eighth century represent a culmination of earlier lines of progress . To the ancestral lore , however , new materials were added . Painters left less and less of a vase in a plain dark color ; instead they divided the surface into many bands or covered it by all-over patterns into which freehand drawing began to creep . Wavy lines , feather-like patterns , rosettes of indefinitely floral nature , birds either singly or in stylized rows , animals in solemn frieze bands ( see Plates 11-12 ) — all these turned up in the more developed fabrics as preliminary signs that the potters were broadening their gaze . The rows of animals and birds , in particular , suggest awareness of Oriental animal friezes , transmitted perhaps via Syrian silver bowls and textiles , but the specific forms of these rows on local vases and metal products are nonetheless Greek . Though the spread of this type of decoration in the Aegean has not yet been precisely determined , it seems to appear first in the Cyclades , which were among the leading exporters of pottery throughout the century . As the material at the command of the potters grew and the volume of their production increased , the local variations within a common style became more evident . Plate 12 illustrates four examples , which are Ripe or Late Geometric work of common spirit but of different schools . Cook had discovered a beef in his possession a few days earlier and , when he could not show the hide , arrested him . Thinking the evidence insufficient to get a conviction , he later released him . Even while suffering the trip to his home , Cook swore to Moore and Lane that he would kill the Indian . Three weeks later following his recovery , armed with a writ issued by the Catskill justice on affidavits prepared by the district attorney , Cook and Russell rode to arrest Martinez . Arriving at daybreak , they found Julio in his corral and demanded that he surrender . Instead , he whirled and ran to his house for a gun forcing them to kill him , Cook reported . Both Cook 's and Russell 's lives were threatened by the Mexicans following the killing , but the company officers felt that in the end , it would serve to quiet them despite their immediate emotion . General manager Pels even suggested that it might be wise to keep the Mexicans in suspense rather than accept their offers to sell out and move away , and try to have a few punished . On February 17 , Russell and Cook were sent to the Pena Flor community on the Vermejo to see about renting out ranches the company had purchased . While talking with Julian M. Beall , Francisco Archuleta and Juan Marcus appeared , both heavily armed , and after watching the house for a while , rode away . It was nearly sundown before they finished the business with Beall and began riding down the stream . They had traveled only a short distance when they spotted five Mexicans riding along a horse-trail across the stream just ahead of them . Suspecting an ambush , the two deputies decided to ride up a side canyon taking a short cut into Catskill . After spending two nights ( Wednesday and Thursday ) in Catskill , the deputies again headed for the Vermejo to finish their business . They stayed with a rancher Friday night and by eleven o'clock Saturday morning passed the old Garnett Lee ranch . Half a mile below at the mouth of Salyer 's Canyon was an old ranch that the company had purchased from A. J. Armstrong , occupied by a Mexican , his wife , and an old trapper . There were three houses in Salyer 's Canyon just at the foot of a low bluff , the road winding along the top , entering above , and then passing down in front of the houses , thence to the Vermejo . To the west of this road was another low bluff , forty or fifty feet high , covered with scrub oak and other brush . As they were riding along this winding road on the bench of land between the two bluffs , a volley of rifle fire suddenly crashed around the two officers . Not a bullet touched Cook who was nearer the ambush , but one hit Russell in the leg and another broke his arm , passing on through his body . With the first reports , Russell 's horse wheeled to the right and ran towards the buildings while Cook , followed by a hail of bullets , raced towards the arroyo of Salyer 's Canyon immediately in front of him , just reaching it as his horse fell . Grabbing his Winchester from its sheath , Cook prepared to fight from behind the arroyo bank . Bullets were so thick , throwing sand in his face , that he found it difficult to return the fire . Noticing Russell 's horse in front of the long log building , he assumed his friend had slipped inside and would be able to put up a good fight , so he began working his way down the ditch to join him . At a very shallow place , two Mexicans rushed into the open for a shot . Dropping to one knee , Cook felled one , and the other struggled off with his comrade , sending no further fire in his direction . Just before leaving the arroyo where he was partially concealed , he did hear shots down at the house . Russell had reached the house as Cook surmised , dismounted , but just as the old trapper opened the door to receive him , he fell into the trapper 's arms — dead . A bullet fired by one of the Mexicans hiding in a little chicken house had passed through his head , tearing a hole two-inches square on the outgoing side . Finding him dead , Cook caught Russell 's horse and rode to the cattle foreman 's house to report the incident and request bloodhounds to trail the assassins . Before daylight Sunday morning , a posse of twenty-three men under the leadership of Deputy Sheriff Frank MacPherson of Catskill followed the trail to the house of Francisco Chaves , where 100 to 150 Mexicans had gathered . MacPherson boldly approached the fortified adobe house and demanded entrance . The men inside informed him that they had some wounded men among them but he would not be allowed to see them even though he offered medical aid . The officer demanded the names of the injured men ; the Mexicans not only refused to give them , but told the possemen if they wanted a fight they could have it . Since the strength of the Mexicans had been underrated , too small a posse had been collected , and since the deputy had not been provided with search warrants , MacPherson and his men decided it was much wiser to withdraw . The posse 's retreat encouraged the Mexicans to be overbearing and impudent . During the following week , six tons of hay belonging to one rancher were burned ; some buildings , farm tools , two horses , plows , and hay owned by Bonito Lavato , a friendly interpreter for the company , and Pedro Chavez' hay were stolen or destroyed ; and a store was broken into and robbed . District Attorney M. W. Mills warned that he would vigorously prosecute persons caught committing these crimes or carrying arms — he just did n't catch anyone . Increasing threats on his life finally convinced Cook that he should leave New Mexico . His friends advised that it would be only a question of time until either the Mexicans killed him by ambuscade or he would be compelled to kill them in self-defense , perpetuating the troubles . By early summer , he wrote from Laramie that he was suffering from the wound inflicted in the ambush and was in a bad way financially , so Pels sent him a draft for $100 , warning that it was still not wise for him to return . Pels also sent a check for $100 to Russell 's widow and had a white marble monument erected on his grave . Cattle stealing and killing , again serious during the spring of 1891 , placed the land grant company officers in a perplexing position . They were reluctant to appoint sheriffs to protect the property , thus running the risk of creating disturbances such as that on the Vermejo , and yet the cowboys protested that they got no salary for arresting cattle thieves and running the risk of being shot . And the law virtually ignored the situation . The judge became ill just as the Colfax District Court convened , no substitute was brought in , no criminal cases heard , only 5 out of 122 cases docketed were tried , and court adjourned sine die after sitting a few days instead of the usual three weeks . Pels complained : " Litigants and witnesses were put to the expense and inconvenience of going long distances to transact business ; public money spent ; justice delayed ; nothing accomplished , and the whole distribution of justice in this county seems to be an absolute farce " . Word reached the company that the man behind these depredations was Manuel Gonzales , a man with many followers , including a number who were kept in line through fear of him . Although wanted by the sheriff for killing an old man named Asher Jones , the warrant for his arrest had never been served . On May 19 , a deputy sheriff 's posse of eight men left Maxwell City and rode thirty-five miles up the Vermejo where they were joined by Juan Jose Martinez . By 3:00 A.M. they reached his house and found it vacant . When they were refused entrance to his brother 's house nearby , they smashed down the door , broke the window , and threw lighted clothes wet with kerosene into the room . Still there was no Gonzales and the family would say nothing . About 300 yards up the creek was a cluster of Mexican houses containing six rooms in the form of a square . While prowling around these buildings , two of the posse recognized the voice of Gonzales speaking to the people inside . He was promised that no harm would befall him if he would come out , but he cursed and replied that he would shoot any man coming near the door . The posse then asked that he send out the women and children as the building would be fired or torn down over his head if necessary to take him dead or alive . Again he refused . In deadly earnest , the besiegers methodically stripped away portions of the roof and tossed lighted rags inside , only to have most stamped out by the women as soon as they hit the floor . When it became obvious that he could stay inside no longer , taking a thousand to one chance Gonzales rushed outside , square against the muzzle of a Winchester . Shot near the heart , he turned to one side and plunged for a door to another room several feet away , three bullets following him . As he pushed open the door he fell on his face , one of his comrades pulling him inside . Not realizing the seriousness of the wound , the besiegers warned that if he did not surrender the house would be burned down around him . Receiving no answer , they set the fire . When the house was about half consumed , his comrade ran to the door and threw up his hands , declaring repeatedly that he did not know the whereabouts of Manuel . Finding it true that he was not inside , the deputies returned to the first house and tore holes through the side and the roof until they could see a body on the bed covered by a blanket . Several slugs fired into the bed jerked aside the blanket to reveal an apparently lifeless hand . Shot six or eight times the body was draped with Russell 's pistol , belt , and cartridges . There was no extra horse so it was left to his comrades who , though numbering in the fifties , had stood around on the hillside nearby without firing a shot during the entire attack . Early the next morning , a Mexican telephoned Pels that Celso Chavez , one of the posse members , was surrounded by ten Mexicans at his father 's home on the upper Vermejo . The sheriff and District Attorney Mills hastily swore out a number of warrants against men who had been riding about armed , according to signed statements by Chavez and Dr. I. P. George , and ordered Deputy Barney Clark of Raton to rescue the posseman . Traveling all night , Clark and twelve men arrived at about seven o'clock May 22 . Occasionally they heard gun-shot signals and a number of horsemen were sighted on the hills , disappearing at the posse 's approach . A Mexican justice of the peace had issue a writ against Chavez for taking part in the " murder " of Manuel Gonzales so he and his father were anxious to be taken out of danger . The men helped them gather their belongings and escorted them to Raton along with three other families desiring to leave . The ten or more dangerous parties singled out for prosecution were still at large , and Pels realized that if these men entrenched themselves in their adobe houses , defending themselves through loopholes , it would be most difficult to capture them . Thus he wired J. P. Lower and Sons of Denver : " Have you any percussion hand grenades for throwing in a house or across a well loaded with balls or shrapnel shot ? If not , how long to order and what is the price " ? He wisely decided that it would be foolish to create a disturbance during the coming roundup , particularly since the Mexicans were on their guard . His problem then became one of restraining the American fighters who wanted to clean out the Vermejo by force immediately . The plant was located west of the Battenkill and south of the location of the former electric light plant . The Manchester Depot Sewer Company issued 214 shares of stock at $10 each for construction of a sewer in that locality , and assessments were made for its maintenance . It has given considerable trouble at times and empties right into the Battenkill . Fire District No. 1 discussed its possible purchase in 1945 , but considered it an unwise investment . The sewer on Bonnet Street was constructed when there were only a few houses on the street . as new homes were built they were connected so that all residences south of School Street are served by it . B. J. Connell is the present treasurer and manager . The 1946 town meeting voted to have the Selectmen appoint a committee to investigate and report on the feasibility of some system of sewage disposal and a disposal plant to serve Manchester Center , Depot , and Way 's Lane . The committee submitted a report signed by Louis Martin and Leon Wiley with a map published in the 1946 town report . The layout of the sewer lines was designed by Henry W. Taylor , who was the engineer for the Manchester Village disposal plant . No figures were submitted with the report and no action was taken on it by the town . The 1958 town meeting directed town authorities to seek federal and state funds with which to conduct a preliminary survey of a proposed sewage plant with its attendant facilities . The final step was a vote for a $230,000 bond issue for the construction of a sewage system by the 1959 town meeting , later confirmed by a two-thirds vote at a special town meeting June 21 , 1960 . There the matter stands with the prospect that soon Manchester may be removed from the roster of towns contributing raw sewage to its main streams . TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH MANCHESTER 'S unusual interest in telegraphy has often been attributed to the fact that the Rev. J. D. Wickham , headmaster of Burr and Burton Seminary , was a personal friend and correspondent of the inventor , Samuel F. B. Morse . At any rate , Manchester did not lag far behind the first commercial system which was set up in 1844 between Baltimore and Washington . In 1846 Matthew B. Goodwin , jeweler and watchmaker , became the town 's first telegrapher in a dwelling he built for himself and his business " two doors north of the Equinox House " or " one door north of the Bank , Manchester , Vermont " . Goodwin was telegrapher for the " American Telegraph Company " and the " Troy and Canada Junction Telegraph Company " . Shares of capital stock at $15 each in the latter company were payable at the Bank of Manchester or at various other Vermont banks . A message of less than fifteen words to Bennington cost twenty-five cents . By 1871 L. C. Orvis , manager of the " Western Union Telegraph Company " , expressed willingness to send emergency telegrams on Sundays from his Village drugstore . Orvis even needed to hire an assistant , Clark J. Wait . The Manchester Journal commented editorially on the surprising amount of local telegraphic business . In the fall of 1878 , the " Popular Telegraph Line " was established between Manchester and Factory Point by the owners , Paul W. Orvis , Henry Gray , J. N. Hard , and Clark J. Wait . The line soon lived up to its name , as local messages of moderate length could be sent for a dime and the company was quickly able to declare very liberal dividends on its capital stock . In 1879 the same Clark Wait , with H. H. Holley of South Dorset , formed the " American Telegraph Line " , extending from Manchester Depot via Factory Point and South Dorset to Dorset . Besides being most convenient , the line " soon proved a good investment for the owners " . Telegraphers at the Depot at this time were Aaron C. Burr and Mark Manley of " Burr and Manley " , dealers in lumber and dry goods . Early equipment was very flimsy ; the smallest gusts of wind toppled poles , making communications impossible . But companies continued to spring up . By 1883 the " Battenkill Telegraph Company " was in existence and Alvin Pettibone was its president . Operating in 1887 was the " Valley Telegraph Line " , officers of which were E. C. Orvis , president ; H. K. Fowler , vice-president and secretary ; J. N. Hard , treasurer ; F. H. Walker , superintendent ; H. S. Walker , assistant superintendent . Two companies now had headquarters with Clark J. Wait , who by then had his own drugstore at Factory Point — the " Northern Union Telegraph Company " and the " Western Union " . Operators were Arthur Koop and Norman Taylor . Still existing on a " Northern Union " telegraph form is a typical peremptory message from Peru grocer J. J. Hapgood to Burton and Graves ' store in Manchester — " Get and send by stage sure four pounds best Porterhouse or serloin stake , for Mrs. Hapgood send six sweet oranges " . About 1888 J. E. McNaughton of Barnumville and E. G. Bacon became proprietors of the " Green Mountain Telegraph Company " , connecting all offices on the Western Union line and extending over the mountain from Barnumville to Peru , Londonderry , South Londonderry , Lowell Lake , Windham , North Windham , Grafton , Cambridgeport , Saxton 's River , and Bellows Falls . From 1896 until 1910 John H. Whipple was manager of Western Union at the Center in the drugstore he purchased from Clark Wait . The Village office of Western Union with George Towsley as manager and telegrapher continued in Hard 's drugstore until 1905 . During the summers , Towsley often needed the assistance of a company operator . These were the years when people flocked to Manchester not only to play golf , which had come into vogue , but also to witness the Ekwanok Country Club tournaments . New Yorkers were kept informed of scores by reporters who telegraphed fifteen to twenty thousand words daily to the metropolitan newspapers . This boosted local telegraph business and Manchester basked in all the free advertising . In 1914 when the town was chosen for the U. S. Amateur Golf tournament , a representative hurried here from the Boston manager 's office . In his wake came the District Traffic Supervisor and the cream of the telegraphic profession , ten of Boston 's best , chosen for their long experience and thorough knowledge of golf . During that tournament alone , some 250,000 words winged their way out of Manchester . The old Morse system was replaced locally by the Simplex modern automatic method in 1929 , when Ellamae Heckman ( Wilcox ) was manager of the Western Union office . During summers , business was so brisk that Mrs. Wilcox had two assistants and a messenger . She was succeeded by Clarence Goyette . Since that time the telegraph office has shifted in location from the railroad station at the Depot and shops at the Center back to the town clerk 's office and drugstore at the Village . After being located for some years in the Village at the Equinox Pharmacy under the supervision of Mrs. Harry Mercier , it is presently located in the Hill and Dale Shop , Manchester Center . The first known telephone line in Manchester was established in July 1883 between Burr and Manley 's store at Manchester Depot and the Kent and Root Marble Company in South Dorset . This was extended the following year to include the railroad station agent 's office and Thayer 's Hotel at Factory Point . In November 1887 a line connecting several dwelling houses in Dorset was extended to Manchester Depot . Telephone wires from Louis Dufresne 's house in East Manchester to the Dufresne lumber job near Bourn Pond were up about 1895 . Eber L. Taylor of Manchester Depot recorded the setting of phone poles in East Dorset and Barnumville in his diary for 1906 . These must have been for local calls strictly , as in May 1900 the " only long distance telephone " in town was transferred from C. B. Carleton 's to Young 's shoe store . A small single switchboard was installed in the Village over Woodcock 's hardware store ( later E. H. Hemenway 's ) . George Woodcock was manager and troubleshooter ; Elizabeth Way was the first operator ; and a night operator was also employed . Anyone fortunate enough to have one of those early phones advertised the fact along with the telephone number in the Manchester Journal . In 1918 the New England Telephone Company began erecting a building to house its operations on the corner of U. S. Rte. 7 and what is now Memorial Avenue at Manchester Center . Service running through Barnumville and to Bennington County towns east of the mountains was in the hands of the " Gleason Telephone Company " in 1925 , but major supervision of telephone lines in Manchester was with the New England Telephone and Telegraph Company , which eventually gained all control . More aerial and underground equipment was installed as well as office improvements to take care of the expanding business . In 1931 Mrs. F. H. Briggs , agent and chief operator , who was to retire in 1946 with thirty years ' service , led agency offices in sales for the year with $2,490 . William Hitchcock , who retired in 1938 , was a veteran of thirty-four years ' local service . Another veteran telephone operator was Edith Fleming Blackmer , who had been in the office forty years at the time of her death in 1960 . In 1932 Dorset received its own exchange , which made business easier for the Manchester office , but it was not until February 1953 that area service was extended to include Manchester and Dorset . This eliminated toll calls between the two towns . Within a month , calls were up seventy per cent . ELECTRIC POWER ELECTRICITY plays such an important part in community life today that it is difficult to envision a time when current was not available for daily use . Yet one has to go back only some sixty years . The first mention of an electric plant in Manchester seems to be one installed in Reuben Colvin 's and Houghton 's gristmill on the West Branch in Factory Point . No records are available as to the date or extent of installation , but it may have been in 1896 . On June 14 , 1900 the Manchester Journal reported that an electrical engineer was installing an electric light plant for Edward S. Isham at " Ormsby Hill " . This was working by the end of August and giving satisfactory service . In November 1900 surveying was done under John Marsden on the east mountains to ascertain if it would be possible to get sufficient water and fall to operate an electric power plant . Nothing came of it , perhaps due to lack of opportunity for water storage . The next step was construction by the Manchester Light and Power Company of a plant on the west bank of the Battenkill south of Union Street bridge . This was nearly completed May 23 , 1901 with a promise of lights by June 10 , but the first light did not go on until September 28 . It was at the end of the sidewalk in front of the Dellwood Cemetery cottage . The first directors of the Manchester Light and Power Company were John Marsden , M. L. Manley , William F. Orvis , George Smith , and John Blackmer . The officers were John Marsden , president ; John C. Blackmer , vice-president ; George Smith , treasurer ; and William F. Orvis , secretary . Marsden was manager of the company for ten years and manager of its successor company , the Colonial Light and Power Company , for one year . At about the time the Marsden enterprise was getting under way , the Vail Light and Lumber Company started construction of a chair stock factory on the site of the present Bennington Co-operative Creamery , intending to use its surplus power for generating electricity . Manchester then had two competing power companies until 1904 , when the Manchester Light and Power Company purchased the transmission system of the Vail Company . This was fortunate , as the Vail plant burned in 1905 . The Colonial Light and Power Company was succeeded by the Vermont Hydro-Electric Corporation , which in turn was absorbed by the Central Vermont Public Service Corporation . The latter now furnishes the area with electricity distributed from a modern sub-station at Manchester Depot which was put into operation February 19 , 1930 and was improved in January 1942 by the installation of larger transformers . For a time following the abandonment of the local plant , electric current for Manchester was brought in from the south with an emergency tie-in with the Vermont Marble Company system to the north . Some who have written on Utopia have treated it as " a learned diversion of a learned world " , " a phantasy with which More amused himself " , " a holiday work , a spontaneous overflow of intellectual high spirits , a revel of debate , paradox , comedy and invention " . With respect to this view , two points are worth making . First , it appears to be based on the fact that on its title page Utopia is described as " festivus " , " gay " . It overlooks the other fact that it is described as " Nec minus salutaris quam festivus " , " no less salutary than gay " . It also overlooks the fact that in a rational lexicon , and quite clearly in More 's lexicon , the opposite of serious is not gay but frivolous , and the opposite of gay is not serious but solemn . More believed that a man could be both serious and gay . That a writer who is gay can not be serious is a common professional illusion , sedulously fostered by all too many academics who mistakenly believe that their frivolous efforts should be taken seriously because they are expressed with that dreary solemnity which is the only mode of expression their authors are capable of . Secondly , to find a learned diversion and a pleasing joke in More 's account of the stupid brutalities of early sixteenth century wars , of the anguish of the poor and dispossessed , of the insolence and cruelty of the rich and powerful requires a callousness toward suffering and sin that would be surprising in a moral imbecile and most surprising in More himself . Indeed , it is even surprising in the Canon of Christ Church and Regius Professor of Ecclesiastical History , who fathered this most peculiar view , and in the brilliant Professor of Medieval and Renaissance English at Cambridge , who inherited it and is now its most eminent proponent . But to return to the main line of our inquiry . It is doubtful that Utopia is still widely read because More was medieval or even because he was a martyr — indeed , it is likely that these days many who read Utopia with interest do not even know that its author was a martyr . Utopia is still widely read because in a sense More stood on the margin of modernity . And if he did stand on the margins of modernity , it was not in dying a martyr for such unity as Papal supremacy might be able to force on Western Christendom . It was not even in writing Latin epigrams , sometimes bawdy ones , or in translating Lucian from Greek into Latin or in defending the study of Greek against the attack of conservative academics , or in attacking the conservative theologians who opposed Erasmus 's philological study of the New Testament . Similar literary exercises were the common doings of a Christian humanist of the first two decades of the sixteenth century . Had More 's writings been wholly limited to such exercises , they would be almost as dimly remembered as those of a dozen or so other authors living in his time , whose works tenuously survive in the minds of the few hundred scholars who each decade in pursuit of their very specialized occasions read those works . More stands on the margins of modernity for one reason alone — because he wrote Utopia . And the evidence that he does , indeed , stand there derives quite simply from the vigorous interest with which rather casual readers have responded to that book for the past century or so . Only one other contemporary of More 's evokes so immediate and direct a response , and only one other contemporary work — Niccolo Machiavelli and The Prince . Can we discover what it is in Utopia that has evoked this response ? Remember that in seeking the modern in Utopia we do not deny the existence of the medieval and the Renaissance there ; we do not even need to commit ourselves to assessing on the same inconceivable scale the relative importance of the medieval , the Renaissance , and the modern . The medieval was the most important to Chambers because he sought to place Thomas More , the author of Utopia , in some intelligible relation with St. Thomas More , the martyr . To others whose concern it is to penetrate the significance of Christian Humanism , the Renaissance elements are of primary concern . But here we have a distinctly modern preoccupation ; we want to know why that book has kept on selling the way it has ; we want to know what is perennially new about Utopia . What is new about it ? To that question the answer is simple ; it can be made in two words , Utopian communism . But it is an answer which opens the door wide to an onrush of objections and denials . Surely there is nothing new about communism . We find it in Plato 's republic , and in Utopia More acknowledges his debt to that book . We find it in that " common way of life … pleasing to Christ and … still in use among the truest societies of Christians " , that is , the better monasteries which made it easier to convert the Utopians to Christianity . We find it in the later Stoic conception of man 's natural condition which included the community of all possessions . This conception was taken up by the early Church Fathers and by canon lawyers and theologians in the Middle Ages ; and More was far too well read not to have come across it in one or several of the forms thus given it . But although the idea of communism is very old even in More 's day and did not spring full-clad from his imagination in 1515 , it is not communism as such that we are concerned with . We are concerned not with the genus communism nor with other species of the genus : Platonic , Stoic , early Christian , monastic , canonist or theological communism ; we are concerned with Utopian communism — that is , simply communism as it appears in the imaginary commonwealth of Utopia , as More conceived it . Perhaps one way to sharpen our sense of the modernity of Utopian communism is to contrast it with the principal earlier types of communistic theory . We will achieve a more vivid sense of what it is by realizing what it is not . In Plato 's Republic communism is — to speak anachronistically — a communism of Janissaries . Its function is to separate from the base ruled mass , among whom private ownership prevails , the governing warrior elite . Moreover , it is too readily forgotten that in the Republic what gave the initial impetus to Plato 's excursus into the construction of an imaginary commonwealth with its ruling-class communism of goods , wives , and children , was his quest for a canon for the proper ordering of the individual human psyche ; and it is to this problem that the Republic ultimately returns . In More 's Utopia communism is not a means of separating out a warrior elite from the lumpish mass . Utopian communism applies to all Utopians . And in the economy of the book it is not peripheral but central . The concern of Utopia is with the optimo reipublicae statu , the best ordering of a civil society ; and it is again and again made clear that Utopian communism provides the institutional array indispensible to that best ordering . To derive Utopian communism from the Jerusalem Christian community of the apostolic age or from its medieval successors-in-spirit , the monastic communities , is with an appropriate shift of adjectives , misleading in the same way as to derive it from Plato 's Republic : in the Republic we have to do with an elite of physical and intellectual athletes , in the apostolic and monastic communities with an elite of spiritual and religious athletes . The apostolic community was literally an elite : chosen by Christ himself . And the monastic communities were supposed to be made up of volunteers selected only after a novitiate which would test their religious aptitude for monastic rigors , their spiritual athleticism . Finally , the conception of the natural community of all possessions which originated with the Stoics was firmly fixed in a tradition by More 's time , although it was not accepted by all the theologian-philosophers of the Middle Ages . In that tradition communism lay a safe distance back in the age of innocence before the Fall of Man . It did not serve to contrast the existing order of society with a possible alternative order , because the age of innocence was not a possible alternative once man had sinned . The actual function of TOOLONG communism was adequately set forth by St. Gregory almost a millenium before More wrote Utopia . " The soil is common to all men … . When we give the necessities of life to the poor , we restore to them what is already theirs . We should think of it more as an act of justice than compassion " . Because community not severalty of property is the law of nature no man can assert an absolutely unalterable right to what is his . Indeed , of all that is his every man is by nature and reason and therefore by conscience obligated to regard himself as a custodian . He is a trustee for the common good , however feeble the safeguards which the positive or municipal law of property provides against his misuse of that share of the common fund , wisely or unwisely , entrusted to his keeping . In contrast to this Stoic-patristic view , Utopia implies that the nature of man is such that to rely on individual conscience to supply the deficiencies of municipal law is to embark on the bottomless sea of human sinfulness in a sieve . The Utopians brace conscience with legal sanctions . In a properly ordered society the massive force of public law performs the function which in natural law theory ineptly is left altogether to a small voice so often still . In all the respects just indicated Utopian communism differs from previous conceptions in which community of possessions and living plays a role . Neither from one of these conceptions nor from a combination of them can it be deduced . We do not deny originality to the Agamemnon because Aeschylus found the tales of the house of Atreus among the folk lore of the Greeks . In a like sense whatever bits or shreds of previous conceptions one may find in it , Utopian communism remains , as an integral whole , original — a new thing . It is not merely a new thing ; it is one of the very few new things in Utopia ; most of the rest is medieval or humanist or part of an old tradition of social criticism . But to say that at a moment in history something is new is not necessarily to say that it is modern ; and for this statement the best evidence comes within the five years following the publication of Utopia , when Martin Luther elaborates a new perception of the nature of the Divine 's encounter with man . New , indeed , is Luther 's perception , but not modern , as anyone knows who has ever tried to make intelligible to modern students what Luther was getting at . Although Utopian communism is both new in 1516 and also modern , it is not modern communism or even modern socialism , as they exist or have ever existed in theory or in practice . Consider the features of Utopian communism : generous public provision for the infirm ; democratic and secret elections of all officers including priests , meals taken publicly in common refectories ; a common habit or uniform prescribed for all citizens ; even houses changed once a decade ; six hours of manual labor a day for all but a handful of magistrates and scholars , and careful measures to prevent anyone from shirking ; no private property , no money ; no sort of pricing at all for any goods or services , and therefore no market in the economic sense of the term . Whatever the merits of its intent , Utopian communism is far too naive , far too crude , to suit any modern socialist or communist . It is not the details of Utopian communism that make Utopia modern , it is the spirit , the attitude of mind that informs those details . What that spirit and attitude were we can best understand if we see more precisely how it contrasts with the communist tradition with the longest continuous history , the one which reached Christianity by the way of Stoicism through the Church Fathers of Late Antiquity . During the Dorr trial the Democratic press condemned the proceedings and heralded Dorr as a martyr to the principles of the Declaration of Independence . During the Brown trial , however , the state 's most powerful Democratic newspaper , the Providence Daily Post , stated that Brown was a murderer , a man of blood , and that he and his associates , with the assistance of Republicans and Abolitionists , had plotted not only the liberation of the slaves but also the overthrow of state and federal governments . The Providence Daily Journal answered the Daily Post by stating that the raid of John Brown was characteristic of Democratic acts of violence and that " He was acting in direct opposition to the Republican Party , who proclaim as one of their cardinal principles that they do not interfere with slavery in the states " . The two major newspapers in Providence continued , throughout the crisis , to accuse each other of misrepresenting the facts and attempting to falsify history . While the Daily Post continued to accuse Republicans and the Daily Journal continued to accuse Democrats , the Woonsocket Patriot complained that the Virginia authorities showed indecent and cowardly haste to condemn Brown and his men . Editor Foss stated , " Of their guilt … there can be no doubt … but they are entitled to sufficient time to prepare for trial , and … a fair trial " . The Providence Daily Post thought that there were probably good reasons for the haste in which the trial was being conducted and that the only thing gained by a delay would be calmer feelings . The Providence Daily Journal stated that although the guilt of Brown was evident , the South must guarantee him a fair trial to preserve domestic peace . On October 31 , 1859 , John Brown was found guilty of treason against the state of Virginia , inciting slave rebellion , and murder . For these crimes he was sentenced to be hanged in public on Friday , December 2 , 1859 . Upon receiving the news , Northern writers , editors , and clergymen heaped accusations of murder on the Southern states , particularly Virginia . Although Rhode Islanders were preparing for the state elections , they watched John Brown 's trial with extreme interest . On Wednesday morning , November 2 , 1859 , the Providence Daily Journal stated that although Brown justly deserved the extreme penalty , no man , however criminal , ought to suffer the penalty without a fairer trial . The editor 's main criticism of the trial was the haste with which it was conducted . The readers of the Providence Daily Post , however , learned that it was generally conceded that " Old Brown " had a fair trial . Concerning the sentence the editor asked , " What else can Virginia do than to hang the men who have defied her laws , organized treason , and butchered her citizens " . In the eastern section of the state the newspapers ' reaction to Brown 's trial and sentence were basically identical . J. Wheaton Smith , editor of the Warren Telegraph stated that " the ends of justice must be satisfied , a solitary example must be set , in order that all those misnamed philantropists [ sic ] , who , actuated by a blind zeal , dare to instigate riot , treason , and murder , may heed it and shape their future course accordingly " . The editor of the Newport Advertiser could discover no evidence of extenuating circumstances in the Brown trial which would warrant making an exception to the infliction of capital punishment . In direct contrast to the other Rhode Island editors , Samuel S. Foss of the Woonsocket Patriot outwardly condemned the trial as being completely unfair . Concerning the sentence , Foss wrote , " If it be possible … that mercy shall override vengeance … and that John Brown 's sentence shall be commuted to imprisonment , it would be well — well for the country … and for Virginia " . Despite the excitement being caused by the trial and sentence of John Brown , Rhode Islanders turned their attention to the state elections . The state had elected Republican candidates in the past two years . There was no doubt as to the control the Republican party exercised throughout the state . If it failed on occasion to elect its candidates for general state offices by majorities , the failure was due to a lingering remnant of the Know-Nothing party , which called itself the American Republican party . The American Republicans and the Republicans both nominated Lieutenant-Governor Turner for governor . Elisha R. Potter was the Democratic candidate . The results of the election of 1859 found Republican candidates not only winning the offices of governor and lieutenant-governor but also obtaining the two Congressional offices from the eastern and western sections of the state . During the month of November hardly a day passed when there was not some mention of John Brown in the Rhode Island newspapers . On November 7 , 1859 , the Providence Daily Journal reprinted a letter sent to John Brown from " E. B. " , a Quaker lady in Newport . In reference to Brown 's raid she wrote , " though we are non-resistants and religiously believe it better to reform by moral and not by carnal weapons … we know thee was anemated [ sic ] by the most generous and philanthropic motives " . " E. B. " compared John Brown to Moses in that they were both acting to deliver millions from oppression . In contrast to " E. B. " , most Rhode Islanders hardly thought of John Brown as being another Moses . Most attempts to develop any sympathy for Brown and his actions found an unresponsive audience in Rhode Island . On Wednesday evening , November 23 , 1859 , in Warren , Rev. Mark Trafton of New Bedford , gave a " Mission of Sympathy " lecture in which he favorably viewed the Harper 's Ferry insurrection . The Warren Telegraph stated that many of Rev. Trafton 's remarks were inappropriate and savored strongly of radicalism and fanaticism . In its account of the Trafton lecture , the Providence Daily Post said that the remarks of Rev. Trafton made the people indignant . No sympathy or admiration for Brown could be found in the Providence Daily Post , for the editor claimed that there were a score of men in the state prison who were a thousand times more deserving of sympathy . The Providence Daily Journal , however , stated that Brown 's courage , bravery , and heroism " in a good cause would make a man a martyr ; it gives something of dignity even to a bad one " . The Woonsocket Patriot admitted that John Brown might deserve punishment or imprisonment " but he should no more be hung than Henry A. Wise or James Buchanan " . The Newport Mercury exhibited more concern over the possibility of the abolitionists making a martyr of Brown than it did over the development of sympathy for him . In her letter to John Brown , " E. B. " , the Quakeress from Newport , had suggested that the American people owed more honor to John Brown for seeking to free the slaves than they did to George Washington . During the latter days of November to the day of Brown 's execution , it seems that most Rhode Islanders did not concur in " E. B. 's " suggestion . On November 22 , 1859 , the Providence Daily Journal stated that although Brown 's " pluck " and honest fanaticism must be admired , any honor paid to Brown would only induce other fanatics to imitate his actions . A week later the Daily Journal had discovered the initial plans of some Providence citizens to hold a meeting honoring John Brown on the day of his execution . The editor of the Daily Journal warned , " … that if such a demonstration be made , it will not find support or countenance from any of the men whose names are recognized as having a right to speak for Providence " . The Providence Daily Post 's editor wrote that he could not believe that a meeting honoring Brown was to be held in Providence . He further called upon the people of Providence to rebuke the meeting and avoid disgrace . On December 2 , 1859 , John Brown was hanged at Charles Town , Virginia . Extraordinary precautions were taken so that no stranger be allowed in the city and no citizen within the enclosure surrounding the scaffold . In many Northern towns and cities meetings were held and church bells were tolled . Such was not the case in Rhode Island . The only public demonstration in honor of John Brown was held at Pratt 's Hall in Providence , on the day of his execution . Despite the opposition of the city newspapers , the Pratt Hall meeting " brought together a very respectable audience , composed in part of those who had been distinguished for years for their radical views upon the subject of slavery , of many of our colored citizens , and of those who were attracted to the place by the novelty of such a gathering " . Seated on the platform were Amos C. Barstow , ex-mayor of Providence and a wealthy Republican stove manufacturer ; Thomas Davis , an uncompromising Garrisonian ; the Reverend Augustus Woodbury , a Unitarian minister ; the Reverend George T. Day , a Free-Will Baptist ; Daniel w . Vaughan , and William H. H. Clements . The latter two were appointed secretaries . The first speaker was Amos C. Barstow who had been unanimously chosen president of the meeting . He spoke of his desire to promote the abolition of slavery by peaceable means and he compared John Brown of Harper 's Ferry to the John Brown of Rhode Island 's colonial period . Barstow concluded that as Rhode Island 's John Brown became a canonized hero , if not a saint , so would it be with John Brown of Harper 's Ferry . The next speaker was George T. Day . Although admitting Brown 's guilt on legal grounds , Day said that , " Brown is no common criminal ; his deed was not below , but above the law " . Following Day was Woodbury who spoke of his disapproval of Brown 's attempt at servile insurrection , his admiration of Brown 's character , and his opposition to slavery . Woodbury 's remarks were applauded by a portion of the audience several times and once there was hissing . The fourth and last speaker was Thomas Davis . By this time large numbers of the audience had left the hall . Davis commenced his remarks by an allusion to the general feeling of opposition which the meeting had encountered from many of the citizens and all the newspapers of the city . He said that the propriety or impropriety of such a gathering was a question that was to be settled by every man in accordance with the convictions of private judgments . In the remainder of his speech Davis spoke of his admiration for Brown and warned those who took part in the meeting that they " are liable to the charge that they are supporting traitors and upholding men whom the laws have condemned " . He recalled that in Rhode Island a party opposed to the state 's condemnation of a man ( Thomas W. Dorr ) proclaimed the state 's action as a violation of the law of the land and the principles of human liberty . At the close of Davis ' speech the following preamble and resolutions were read by the president , and on the question of their adoption passed unanimously : Whereas , John Brown has cheerfully risked his life in endeavoring to deliver those who are denied all rights … and is this day doomed to suffer death for his efforts in behalf of those who have no helper : Therefore , Resolved that , while we most decidedly disapprove the methods he adopted to accomplish his objects , yet … in his willingness to die in aid of the great cause of human freedom , we still recognize the qualities of a noble nature and the exercise of a spirit which true men have always admired and which history never fails to honor . Resolved that his wrongs and bereavements in Kansas , occasioned by the violence and brutality of those who were intent on the propagation of slavery in that territory , call for a charitable judgment upon his recent efforts in Virginia to undermine the despotism from which he had suffered , and commend his family to the special sympathy and aid of all who pity suffering and reverence justice . Resolved … that the anti-slavery sentiment is becoming ripe for resolute action . Resolved , that we find in this fearful tragedy at Harper 's Ferry a reason for more earnest effort to remove the evil of slavery from the whole land as speedily as possible … . On the morning following the Pratt Hall meeting the editor of the Providence Daily Journal wrote that although the meeting was milder and less extreme than those held in other areas for similar purposes , it could have been avoided completely . Rather than being deceived , the eye is puzzled ; instead of seeing objects in space , it sees nothing more than — a picture . Through 1911 and 1912 , as the Cubist facet-plane 's tendency to adhere to the literal surface became harder and harder to deny , the task of keeping the surface at arm 's length fell all the more to eye-undeceiving contrivances . To reinforce , and sometimes to replace , the simulated typography , Braque and Picasso began to mix sand and other foreign substances with their paint ; the granular texture thus created likewise called attention to the reality of the surface and was effective over much larger areas . In certain other pictures , however , Braque began to paint areas in exact simulation of wood graining or marbleizing . These areas by virtue of their abrupt density of pattern , stated the literal surface with such new and superior force that the resulting contrast drove the simulated printing into a depth from which it could be rescued — and set to shuttling again — only by conventional perspective ; that is , by being placed in such relation to the forms depicted within the illusion that these forms left no room for the typography except near the surface . The accumulation of such devices , however , soon had the effect of telescoping , even while separating , surface and depth . The process of flattening seemed inexorable , and it became necessary to emphasize the surface still further in order to prevent it from fusing with the illusion . It was for this reason , and no other that I can see , that in September 1912 , Braque took the radical and revolutionary step of pasting actual pieces of imitation-woodgrain wallpaper to a drawing on paper , instead of trying to simulate its texture in paint . Picasso says that he himself had already made his first collage toward the end of 1911 , when he glued a piece of imitation-caning oilcloth to a painting on canvas . It is true that his first collage looks more Analytical than Braque 's , which would confirm the date he assigns it . But it is also true that Braque was the consistent pioneer in the use of simulated textures as well as of typography ; and moreover , he had already begun to broaden and simplify the facet-planes of Analytical Cubism as far back as the end of 1910 . When we examine what each master says was his first collage we see that much the same thing happens in each . ( It makes no real difference that Braque 's collage is on paper and eked out in charcoal , while Picasso 's is on canvas and eked out in oil . ) By its greater corporeal presence and its greater extraneousness , the affixed paper or cloth serves for a seeming moment to push everything else into a more vivid idea of depth than the simulated printing or simulated textures had ever done . But here again , the surface-declaring device both overshoots and falls short of its aim . For the illusion of depth created by the contrast between the affixed material and everything else gives way immediately to an illusion of forms in bas-relief , which gives way in turn , and with equal immediacy , to an illusion that seems to contain both — or neither . Because of the size of the areas it covers , the pasted paper establishes undepicted flatness bodily , as more than an indication or sign . Literal flatness now tends to assert itself as the main event of the picture , and the device boomerangs : the illusion of depth is rendered even more precarious than before . Instead of isolating the literal flatness by specifying and circumscribing it , the pasted paper or cloth releases and spreads it , and the artist seems to have nothing left but this undepicted flatness with which to finish as well as start his picture . The actual surface becomes both ground and background , and it turns out — suddenly and paradoxically — that the only place left for a three-dimensional illusion is in front of , upon , the surface . In their very first collages , Braque and Picasso draw or paint over and on the affixed paper or cloth , so that certain of the principal features of their subjects as depicted seem to thrust out into real , bas-relief space — or to be about to do so — while the rest of the subject remains imbedded in , or flat upon , the surface . And the surface is driven back , in its very surfaceness , only by this contrast . In the upper center of Braque 's first collage , Fruit Dish ( in Douglas Cooper 's collection ) , a bunch of grapes is rendered with such conventionally vivid sculptural effect as to lift it practically off the picture plane . The trompe-l'oeil illusion here is no longer enclosed between parallel flatnesses , but seems to thrust through the surface of the drawing paper and establish depth on top of it . Yet the violent immediacy of the wallpaper strips pasted to the paper , and the only lesser immediacy of block capitals that simulate window lettering , manage somehow to push the grape cluster back into place on the picture plane so that it does not " jump " . At the same time , the wallpaper strips themselves seem to be pushed into depth by the lines and patches of shading charcoaled upon them , and by their placing in relation to the block capitals ; and these capitals seem in turn to be pushed back by their placing , and by contrast with the corporeality of the woodgraining . Thus every part and plane of the picture keeps changing place in relative depth with every other part and plane ; and it is as if the only stable relation left among the different parts of the picture is the ambivalent and ambiguous one that each has with the surface . And the same thing , more or less , can be said of the contents of Picasso 's first collage . In later collages of both masters , a variety of extraneous materials are used , sometimes in the same work , and almost always in conjunction with every other eye-deceiving and eye-undeceiving device they can think of . The area adjacent to one edge of a piece of affixed material — or simply of a painted-in form — will be shaded to pry that edge away from the surface , while something will be drawn , painted or even pasted over another part of the same shape to drive it back into depth . Planes defined as parallel to the surface also cut through it into real space , and a depth is suggested optically which is greater than that established pictorially . All this expands the oscillation between surface and depth so as to encompass fictive space in front of the surface as well as behind it . Flatness may now monopolize everything , but it is a flatness become so ambiguous and expanded as to turn into illusion itself — at least an optical if not , properly speaking , a pictorial illusion . Depicted , Cubist flatness is now almost completely assimilated to the literal , undepicted kind , but at the same time it reacts upon and largely transforms the undepicted kind — and it does so , moreover , without depriving the latter of its literalness ; rather , it underpins and reinforces that literalness , re-creates it . Out of this re-created literalness , the Cubist subject reemerged . For it had turned out , by a further paradox of Cubism , that the means to an illusion of depth and plasticity had now become widely divergent from the means of representation or imaging . In the Analytical phase of their Cubism , Braque and Picasso had not only had to minimize three-dimensionality simply in order to preserve it ; they had also had to generalize it — to the point , finally , where the illusion of depth and relief became abstracted from specific three-dimensional entities and was rendered largely as the illusion of depth and relief as such : as a disembodied attribute and expropriated property detached from everything not itself . In order to be saved , plasticity had had to be isolated ; and as the aspect of the subject was transposed into those clusters of more or less interchangeable and contour-obliterating facet-planes by which plasticity was isolated under the Cubist method , the subject itself became largely unrecognizable . Cubism , in its 1911-1912 phase ( which the French , with justice , call " hermetic " ) was on the verge of abstract art . It was then that Picasso and Braque were confronted with a unique dilemma : they had to choose between illusion and representation . If they opted for illusion , it could only be illusion per se — an illusion of depth , and of relief , so general and abstracted as to exclude the representation of individual objects . If , on the other hand , they opted for representation , it had to be representation per se — representation as image pure and simple , without connotations ( at least , without more than schematic ones ) of the three-dimensional space in which the objects represented originally existed . It was the collage that made the terms of this dilemma clear : the representational could be restored and preserved only on the flat and literal surface now that illusion and representation had become , for the first time , mutually exclusive alternatives . In the end , Picasso and Braque plumped for the representational , and it would seem they did so deliberately . ( This provides whatever real justification there is for the talk about " reality " . ) But the inner , formal logic of Cubism , as it worked itself out through the collage , had just as much to do with shaping their decision . When the smaller facet-planes of Analytical Cubism were placed upon or juxtaposed with the large , dense shapes formed by the affixed materials of the collage , they had to coalesce — become " synthesized " — into larger planar shapes themselves simply in order to maintain the integrity of the picture plane . Left in their previous atom-like smallness , they would have cut away too abruptly into depth ; and the broad , opaque shapes of pasted paper would have been isolated in such a way as to make them jump out of plane . Large planes juxtaposed with other large planes tend to assert themselves as independent shapes , and to the extent that they are flat , they also assert themselves as silhouettes ; and independent silhouettes are apt to coincide with the recognizable contours of the subject from which a picture starts ( if it does start from a subject ) . It was because of this chain-reaction as much as for any other reason — that is , because of the growing independence of the planar unit in collage as a shape — that the identity of depicted objects , or at least parts of them , re-emerged in Braque 's and Picasso 's papiers colles and continued to remain more conspicuous there — but only as flattened silhouettes — than in any of their paintings done wholly in oil before the end of 1913 . Analytical Cubism came to an end in the collage , but not conclusively ; nor did Synthetic Cubism fully begin there . Only when the collage had been exhaustively translated into oil , and transformed by this translation , did Cubism become an affair of positive color and flat , interlocking silhouettes whose legibility and placement created allusions to , if not the illusion of , unmistakable three-dimensional identities . Synthetic Cubism began with Picasso alone , late in 1913 or early in 1914 ; this was the point at which he finally took the lead in Cubist innovation away from Braque , never again to relinquish it . But even before that , Picasso had glimpsed and entered , for a moment , a certain revolutionary path in which no one had preceded him . It was as though , in that instant , he had felt the flatness of collage as too constricting and had suddenly tried to escape all the way back — or forward — to literal three-dimensionality . This he did by using utterly literal means to carry the forward push of the collage ( and of Cubism in general ) literally into the literal space in front of the picture plane . Some time in 1912 , Picasso cut out and folded a piece of paper in the shape of a guitar ; to this he glued and fitted other pieces of paper and four taut strings , thus creating a sequence of flat surfaces in real and sculptural space to which there clung only the vestige of a picture plane . The affixed elements of collage were extruded , as it were , and cut off from the literal pictorial surface to form a bas-relief . ( Los Angeles in 1957 finally bowed to the skyscraper . ) And without high density in the core , rapid-transit systems can not be maintained economically , let alone built from scratch at today 's prices . However , the building of freeways and garages can not continue forever . The new interchange among the four Los Angeles freeways , including the grade-constructed accesses , occupies by itself no less than eighty acres of downtown land , one-eighth of a square mile , an area about the size of Rockefeller Center in New York . It is hard to believe that this mass of intertwined concrete constitutes what the law calls " the highest and best use " of centrally located urban land . As it affects the city 's fiscal situation , such an interchange is ruinous ; it removes forever from the tax rolls property which should be taxed to pay for the city services . Subways improved land values without taking away land ; freeways boost valuation less ( because the garages they require are not prime buildings by a long shot ) , and reduce the acreage that can be taxed . Downtown Los Angeles is already two-thirds freeway , interchange , street , parking lot and garage — one of those preposterous " if " statistics has already come to pass . The freeway with narrowly spaced interchanges concentrates and mitigates the access problem , but it also acts inevitably as an artificial , isolating boundary . City planners do not always use this boundary as effectively as they might . Less ambitious freeway plans may be more successful — especially when the roadways and interchanges are raised , allowing for cross access at many points and providing parking areas below the ramp . Meanwhile , the automobile and its friend the truck have cost the central city some of its industrial dominance . In ever greater numbers , factories are locating in the suburbs or in " industrial parks " removed from the city 's political jurisdiction . The appeal of the suburb is particularly strong for heavy industry , which must move bulky objects along a lengthy assembly line and wants enough land area to do the entire job on one floor . To light industry , the economies of being on one floor are much slighter , but efficiency engineers usually believe in them , and manufacturers looking for ways to cut costs can not be prevented from turning to efficiency engineers . This movement of industry away from the central cities is not so catastrophically new as some prophets seem to believe . It is merely the latest example of the leapfrog growth which formed the pattern of virtually all American cities . The big factories which are relatively near the centers of our cities — the rubber factories in Akron , Chrysler 's Detroit plants , U.S.Steel 's Pittsburgh works — often began on these sites at a time when that was the edge of the city , yet close to transport ( river ) , storage ( piers ) and power ( river ) . The " leapfrog " was a phenomenon of the railroad and the steam turbine , and the time when the belts of residence surrounding the old factory area were not yet blighted . The truck and the car gave the manufacturer a new degree of freedom in selecting his plant site . Until internal combustion became cheap , he had to be near a railroad siding and a trolley line or an existing large community of lower-class homes . The railroad siding is still important — it is usually , though not always , true that long-haul shipment by rail is cheaper than trucking . But anybody who promises a substantial volume of business can get a railroad to run a short spur to his plant these days , and many businesses can live without the railroad . And there are now many millions of workers for whom the factory with the big parking lot , which can be reached by driving across or against the usual pattern of rush hour traffic and grille-route bus lines , is actually more convenient than the walk-to factory . Willow Run , General Electric 's enormous installations at Louisville and Syracuse , the Pentagon , Boeing in Seattle , Douglas and Lockheed in Los Angeles , the new automobile assembly plants everywhere — none of these is substantially served by any sort of conventional mass rapid transit . They are all suburban plants , relying on the roads to keep them supplied with workers . And wherever the new thruways go up their banks are lined by neat glass and metal and colored brick light industry . The drive along Massachusetts ' Route 128 , the by-pass which makes an arc about twenty miles from downtown Boston , may be a vision of the future . The future could be worse . The plants along Route 128 are mostly well designed and nicely set against the New England rocks and trees . They can even be rather grand , like Edward Land 's monument to the astonishing success of Polaroid . But they deny the values of the city — the crowded , competitive , tolerant city , the " melting pot " which gave off so many of the most admirable American qualities . They are segregated businesses , combining again on one site the factory and the office , drawing their work force from segregated communities . It is interesting to note how many of the plants on Massachusetts ' Route 128 draw most of their income either from the government in non-competitive cost-plus arrangements , or from the exploitation of patents which grant at least a partial monopoly . While the factories were always the center of the labor market , they were often on the city 's periphery . In spreading the factories even farther , the automobile may not have changed to any great extent the growth pattern of the cities . Even the loss of hotel business to the outskirt 's motel has been relatively painless ; the hotel-motel demarcation is becoming harder to find every year . What hurts most is the damage the automobile has done to central-city retailing , especially in those cities where public transit is feeble . Some retailing , of course , always spreads with the population — grocery stores , drugstores , local haberdasheries and dress shops , candy stores and the like . But whenever a major purchase was contemplated forty years ago — a new bedroom set or a winter coat , an Easter bonnet , a bicycle for Junior — the family set off for the downtown department store , where the selection would be greatest . Department stores congregated in the " one hundred per cent location " , where all the transit lines converged . These stores are still there , but the volume of the " downtown store " has been on a relative decline , while in many cities the suburban " branch " sells more and more dry goods . If the retailer and hotelman 's downtown unit sales have been decreasing , however , his dollar volume continues to rise , and it is dollars which you put in the bank . In most discussions of this phenomenon , the figures are substantially inflated . No suburban shopping-center branch — not even Hudson 's vast Northland outside Detroit — does anything like the unit volume of business or carries anything like the variety of merchandise to be found in the home store . Telephone orders distort the picture : the suburbanite naturally calls a local rather than a central-city number if both are listed in an advertisement , especially if the local call eliminates city sales tax . The suburban branch is thereby credited with a sale which would have been made even if its glass doors had never opened . Accounting procedures which continue to charge a disproportionate overhead and warehouse expense to the main store make the branches seem more profitable than they are . In many cases that statement " We break even on our downtown operation and make money on our branches " would be turned around if the cost analysis were recalculated on terms less prejudicial to the old store . Fear of the competition — always a great motivating force in the American economy — makes retailers who do not have suburban operations exaggerate both the volume and the profitability of their rival 's shiny new branches . The fact seems to be that very many large branch stores are uneconomical , that the choice of location in the suburbs is as important as it was downtown , and that even highly suburbanized cities will support only so many big branches . Moreover , the cost of operations is always high in any new store , as the conservative bankers who act as controllers for retail giants are beginning to discover . When all has been said , however , the big branch store remains a major break with history in the development of American retailing . Just as the suburban factory may be more convenient than the downtown plant to the worker with a car , the trip to the shopping center may seem far easier than to the downtown department store , though both are the same distance from home . Indeed , there are some cities where the suburban shopping pulls customers who are geographically much nearer to downtown . Raymond Vernon reports that residents of East St. Louis have been driving across the Mississippi , through the heart of downtown St. Louis and out to the western suburbs for major shopping , simply because parking is easier at the big branches than it is in the heart of town . To the extent that the problem is merely parking , an aggressive downtown management , like that of Lazarus Brothers in Columbus , Ohio , can fight back successfully by building a garage on the lot next door . If the distant patron of the suburban branch has been frightened away from downtown by traffic problems , however , the city store can only pressure the politicians to do something about the highways or await the completion of the federal highway program . And if the affection for the suburban branch reflects a desire to shop with " nice people " , rather than with the indiscriminate urban mass which supports the downtown department store , the central location may be in serious trouble . Today , according to land economist Homer Hoyt , shopping centers and their associated parking lots cover some 46,000 acres of land , which is almost exactly the total land area in all the nation 's Central Business Districts put together . The downtown store continues to offer the great inducement of variety , both within its gates and across the street , where other department stores are immediately convenient for the shopper who wants to see what is available before making up her mind . If anything may be predicted in the quicksilver world of retailing , it seems likely that the suburban branch will come to dominate children 's clothing ( taking the kid downtown is too much of a production ) , household gadgetry and the discount business in big-ticket items . Department stores were built on dry goods , especially ladies ' fashions , and in this area , in the long run , the suburban branches will be hard put to compete against downtown . If this analysis is correct , the suburban branches will turn out to be what management 's cost accountants refuse to acknowledge , marginal operations rather than major factors . Historically in America the appeal of cities has been their color and life , the variety of experience they offered . " How ya gon na keep 'em down on the farm " ? was a question that had to be asked long before they saw Paree . Though Americans usually lived in groups segregated by national origin or religious belief , they liked to work and shop in the noise and vitality of downtown . Only a radical change in the nature of the population in the central city would be likely to destroy this preference — and we must now turn our attention to the question of whether such a change , gloomily foreseen by so many urban diagnosticians , is actually upon us . 4 . SUBURBS AND NEGROES In their book American Skyline , Christopher Tunnard and Henry Hope Reed argue that Franklin Roosevelt 's New Deal was what made the modern suburb a possibility — a fine ironical argument , when you consider how suburbanites tend to vote . The first superhighways — New York 's Henry Hudson and Chicago 's Lake Shore , San Francisco 's Bay Bridge and its approaches , a good slice of the Pennsylvania Turnpike — were built as part of the federal works program which was going to cure the depression . At the same time , Roosevelt 's Federal Housing Administration , coupled with Henry Morgenthau 's cheap-money policy , permitted ordinary lower-middle-class families to build their own homes . Bankers who had been reluctant to lend without better security than the house itself got that security from the U. S. government ; householders who had been unable to pick up the burden of short-term high-interest mortgages found they could borrow for twenty-five years at 4 per cent , under government aegis . Before losing itself in the sands of the 19th Century , the grand stream of Italian Renaissance architectural decoration made a last appearance in the Brumidi frescos of the Capitol Rotunda in Washington . The artistic generation after Brumidi was trained in the Paris of that time to a more meticulous standard of execution , and tended to overlook greatness of conception where faults and weakness were easy to find . But it is a great conception . The open ceiling , with allegorical and classical figures thrown in masses against the sky : the closed frieze , formally divided into historical scenes and tightly tied to the stone walls , belong in their large ordering to the line of Correggio and his Baroque followers . The descent may be remote , but this is surely the only full-scale example of that vigorous inheritance in the United States . Constantino Brumidi designed the decorative scheme as a whole , in collaboration with the architect Charles U. Walter , at the time when plans were being made to replace the wooden dome of Bullfinch with the present much larger iron structure . After many years and many interruptions he was able to finish the canopy fresco , and slightly less than half the frieze , beginning with the Liberty group opposite the East door , and ending with William Penn , all but one leg , when a tragic accident ended his career . He left at his death sketches , drawn to scale , for the rest of the circle . These were carried out not too faithfully by Filippo Costaggini , who began by supplying the missing member to the founder of Pennsylvania and noting in pencil , in Italian , that he " began at this point " . When Costaggini had used up all the sketches thirty-six feet of empty frieze were left over . A blank undecorated void , plastered in roughcast , disfigured the wall of the Rotunda until 1951 . Then , advised by the Architect of the Capitol , the Joint Committee for the Library , traditionally responsible for the works of art in the building , ordered the space cleared and painted in fresco , to show " the Peace after the Civil War " , " the Spanish-American War " , and " the Birth of Aviation " , to match as nearly as feasible Brumidi 's technique and composition . Later the cleaning and restoration were ordered , first of the older part of the frieze , finally of the canopy . What follows is therefore a description of three separate undertakings , the new frescoing of the gap , and the successive essays in conservation , with some discussion of problems that arose in connection with each . For the use of students and future restorers , a full , day-by-day record was kept of all three undertakings , complete technical reports on what we found and what we did . These may be consulted in the office of the Architect of the Capitol , or the Library of Congress . The first preliminary was inspecting the unfinished length of frieze , a jumble of roughcast and finish coats , all in bad condition . It was decided to strip the whole area down to the bricks , and to replace the rough coats up to one inch thickness to agree with the older artists ' preparation , with a mortar , one part slaked lime , three parts sand , to be put on in two layers . Cartoons were drawn full size , after sketches had been made to satisfy all the authorities . There was some difficulty here . One had to manage the given subjects , three diverse recent events , so as to make them part of a classical frieze , — that is , a pattern of large figures filling the space , with not much else , against a blank background . Moreover , all three representations must be squeezed comfortably into little more than the length Brumidi allowed for each one of his . When it was all arranged to fit , and not to interrupt the lengthwise flow of movement in the frieze , the cartoons were tried in place . The scaffolding , a confusion of heavy beams hanging from the gallery above , was strong and safe , but obscured visibility . Nothing could be seen from the floor , but by moving around the gallery one could get glimpses ; and we were able to decide on some amplification of scale . To be sure of matching color as well as form , pieces of cartoon were traced on the roughcast , and large samples painted in fresco , then left two months to dry out to their final key . Later it was gratifying to note that they had set so solidly as to be hard to remove when the time came . The scaffold was the length of the space to be painted . What bits of Brumidi and Costaggini could be reached at either end seemed in good order , though the roughish sandy surface was thick with dust . Washed , they came out surprisingly clear and bright . It could be seen that both artists used a very thick final coat of plaster , one half inch , and that both followed the traditional Italian fresco technique as described by Cennino Cennini in the 14th Century , and current in Italy to this day . That is , they used opaque color throughout , getting solid highlights with active lime white . Painting " a secco " is much in evidence . A brown hatching reinforces and broadens shadows , and much of the background is solidly covered with a dark coat . This brown is sometimes so rich in medium as to appear to be oil paint . In our own practice , to have the last " intonaco " plaster coat thick enough to match , and at the same time to avoid fine cracks in drying , we found that it had to be put on in two layers , letting the first set awhile before applying the second . The mortar was three parts sand to two of lime . Some of the lime that is always on hand in the Capitol basement for plaster repairs was slaked several months for us ; but to make it stiffer , of a really putty-like consistency to avoid cracking , we added a little hydrated lime — hard on the hands , but we could see no other disadvantage . I am told that a mortar longer slaked might have remained longer in condition for painting . As it was , it took the pigment well for six hours , enough for our purpose , and held it firmly in setting . It was obvious that to match Brumidi , white must be mixed with all but the darkest tones . Lime white , hard and brilliant , has a tendency to " jump " away from the other colors in drying , and also by its capacity to set , to preclude the use of ready-made gradations , so useful in decorative work . In older Italian practice , lime , dried and reground " bianco sangiovanni " , entered into such prepared shades . For convenience we chose a stronger pigment , unknown to the early Italians or to Brumidi , titanium oxide , reserving the active lime white for highest lights , put on at the end of the day 's stint . Other pigments were mostly raw umber , some burnt umber , and a little yellow ochre . This last was probably not in Brumidi 's palette , but was needed to take the chill , bluish look off the new work next to the old , where softening effects of time were seen , even after thorough cleaning . The use of " secco " we tried to restrict to covering joints . Experience showed , however , that it is very difficult to paint a dark umber background in fresco that will not dry out spotty and uneven . Later Brumidi and Costaggini will be seen coping with this same problem . We were forced , as they were , to work a good deal of tempera into background and dark areas . We made it by Doerner 's recipe , five parts thoroughly washed cheese curd to one of lime putty ; ground together they made a strong adhesive , which became waterproof in drying . Figure 1 was taken in 1953 . The new part is finished . On the right is the Brumidi Liberty group , as it looked after cleaning operations , which had not yet come around to the other end ; where , of Costaggini , only some foliage has been washed , at the point where his work stopped . One is led to speculate as to why the empty space was there , left for our century to finish . Costaggini said it was Brumidi 's fault in not providing enough material to fill the circle . Brumidi 's son later maintained that Costaggini had compressed and mutilated his father 's designs , ambitiously coveting a bit he could claim for his very own . This question might be settled by comparing the measurement of the actual circumference with the dimensions noted , presumably in Brumidi 's hand , above the various sections of his long preparatory drawing , which has been kept . Whose ever fault , it is evident that Brumidi intended to fill out the whole frieze with his " histories " and come full circle with the scene of the discovery of California gold . In painting a fresco , the handling of wet mortar compels one always to move from top to bottom and from left to right , not to spoil yesterday 's work with today 's plastering . At the very first , then , Brumidi was required , by the classically pyramidal shape of his central group , to fill in the triangular space above the seated girl on Liberty 's right , before starting on the allegorical figures themselves . Here he put a small man , whose missing hands might have left his function doubtful , until comparison with the first sketches showed that when the artist came back to the beginning , this was to be the closing figure of the party of " forty-niners " , and was to hold a basket . One sees Costaggini 's rendering of the same figure more than thirty feet away . The photograph , Figure 1 of the completed frieze , shows how , having been separated from his fellows in useless isolation for eighty years , he has now been given a hand , and by juxtaposition ( and the permission of the Committee ) , given a new job , to represent the witnesses of the first flight at Kitty Hawk in 1903 . The startlingly bright effect of the first washings led the Committee to order the rest of the Brumidi-Costaggini cycle cleaned and restored to go with them . The fixed wooden scaffold was removed , and , so as to reach all the frieze , one of pipe , on wheels , built up from the floor . Every few days , in the early morning , as the work progressed , twenty men would appear to push it ahead and to shift the plank foundation that distributed its weight widely on the Rotunda pavement , supported as it is by ancient brick vaulting . On this giddy and oscillating platform over fifty feet from the floor , after a first dusting , we began to wash . A most useful tool for wetting the surface without running down was made from a greenhouse " mist spray " nozzle welded to a hose connection , to be used at low water pressure . A valve in the handle let us cut the pressure still lower . One man sprayed , with a sponge in hand to check excess wetting . A second assistant mopped with two sponges . In parts a repeated sponging was needed , but everywhere we found that water alone was enough to restore the original brightness . No soap or other cleaning agent was used that might bring in unwanted chemical reactions . The painting " a fresco " stood up superbly ; a little of the " secco " came off . Necessary retouching was put on at once . Altogether we found the craftsmanship first rate , especially Brumidi 's . We were greatly helped by there being no traces of former restoring . Apparently not more than dusting had ever been done , and not much of that . The plaster was sound , the intonaco firmly attached all over , and the pigment solidly incorporated with it in all but a few unimportant places . The greatest source of trouble was rain which had repeatedly flowed from openings above , soaking the surface and leaving streaks of dissolved lime , very conspicuous even after cleaning , particularly in the " Landing of Columbus " , " Oglethorpe and the Indians " , and " Yorktown " . Here the Architect , referring to the use of the Capitol as a public building , not a museum , requested some repainting to maintain decorative effect , rather than leaving blank , unsightly patches . These frescos have had no care for eighty years . With naked gas jets below and leaky windows above , enough to ruin wall paintings in any medium , they have survived , in a building long unheated in winter , hot and damp under the iron dome in summer . Those whom I wish to address with this letter are for the most part unknown to me . It may well be that , when Rudy Pozzatti and I visited your country last spring , you were living and working close to the places we saw and the streets we walked . As American artists , it was natural that we would want to meet as many Soviet artists as possible . This letter might not have been necessary had our efforts to meet and talk with you been more successful . Even though we did not see many of your faces , it appears now quite evident that a considerable number of your profession heard , from those whom we had the fortune to encounter , that we had been in your midst . I am very pleased that quite a number of you found ways to communicate to me your desire to hear of our reactions and experiences in the U.S.S.R. I can well understand your curiosity . We , ourselves , are always eager to know how others feel about us and the way in which we live . it is my hope that this written message and report will reach you through the good offices of the Union of Soviet Artists . There should be no reason to misinterpret or ignore the intent of this letter . Pozzatti and I endeavored earnestly to record our impressions without the prejudice that the anxiety of our time so easily provokes . The time-span of little more than a month can not entitle me to pose as an expert on anything I saw . Too much damage is done by " experts " who have spent even less time , if any at all , in the U.S.S.R. Nevertheless I consider it reasonable , because of my commitment as an artist , to assume that the rights and responsibilities of creative individuals are related to humanity as a whole rather than to specific geo-political interests . If this attitude is seriously questioned in the Soviet Union , it does not necessarily follow that the majority of the society in which I live is too aware of the necessity for clarity on this ethical as well as aesthetic point of view . It is a matter of some disappointment to me that still many of my own countrymen are too shortsighted to ascribe any symbolic significance to the plight of a minority , such as artists , in any social order . I encountered many questions and great interest upon my return from the Soviet Union about my reactions to that experience . That which I found most profound and most disturbing appeared to evoke a curiously muted reaction . Almost as if I were talking about something quite unreal . Apparently this is not the time and the climate in which people will listen objectively , or at least dispassionately , to individual impressions of a subject which preoccupies a good deal of their waking moments . Personal predispositions tend to blunt the ear and , in turn , the voice as well . I can not be content with the anecdotal small talk of a somewhat unusual travelogue . I am equally impatient with the shrug of the shoulder , shake of the head of those who no longer care because they have known it for so long ; the aggressive disbelief of those who are romantically lost in a semantic jungle of the word " Revolution " ; the belligerent denunciations by the sick fanatics of ignorance who try to build a papier-mache wall of pseudo-patriotism on our physical horizons . Difficult as it may have been at times , Pozzatti and I saw enough , talked to enough artists , historians and others to realize that the issue is quite clear . Artists and poets are the raw nerve-ends of humanity ; they are small in number and their contribution is not immediately decisive in everyday life . By themselves they may not be able to save the life on this planet , but without them there would be very little left worth saving . It can not be said that our very first day in the Soviet Union turned out to be an ordinary one . On that cold , but bright , April day we were guests of your government in the reviewing stand of Red Square to witness the poeple 's celebration for Yuri Gagarin and later on that day we attended the somewhat more exclusive reception for him in one of the impressive palaces of the Kremlin . If we thus spent our very first day in the midst of a large number of your people honoring a new hero and a great national achievement , our last day , to us at least , was equally impressive and very moving , even though the crowds were absent and there was almost complete silence . We stood under a gigantic tree in the rolling country just outside of Moscow looking at silent flowers on the grave of a Russian poet and writer who cherished the love for his country to the point of foregoing the highest international honor . The grave , about half-way between his home and the blue turrets of a small church , rose above the forms and spaces of gently undisciplined pastures of green , the sounds of birds , the silence of other graves and the casual paths through small forests . Just yesterday we had met and talked with a living writer , a contemporary of the dead poet , who is known for his ability of manipulating his ideas and his craft more advantageously . But today we were aware of only two men . One had taken a flight into uncharted space , in the service of science , to return as a living hero . The other had assumed the right to explore the equally uncharted space of the human spirit . The flowers on his grave attested to the fact that he as well was somebody 's hero . These two recollections form the frame around a series of experiences and sights which , to me at least , symbolize the extremes in the aesthetic as well as ethical conflict between materialism and humanism . A struggle that is being waged all over the world in the half-light of disinterest . The prevalent opinion which we encountered in a variety of expressions in your country denied not only the existence of this conflict but it was elaborated even further with an incredible semantic dexterity . The socialist environment , it was stated , had cross-fertilized these two extreme seeds and was about to produce a new plant and fruit . When I speculated on one such occasion that the new growth , like other mutations , might be unable to propagate , I was immediately accused of preaching racial prejudice . I could not bring myself to answer that " some of my best friends are non-propagating mules " . This kind of reasoning and logic takes a little time to get used to . After a while we were perhaps less surprised , but still puzzled , when a friendly discussion would suddenly jump the track into the most irrelevant and illogical comparisons . A chance remark about Lenin 's sealed train brought the rejoinder that this was a myth akin to George Washington 's cherry tree . Theories of the behavior pattern of population masses were compared to scientific discoveries concerning the motion-pattern of gaseous masses . No wonder that Pozzatti and I had at times difficulty in remembering the real purpose of our presence , namely , Cultural Exchange . Typical of such an experience was the occasion of a somewhat formal official welcome in the offices of the Union of Soviet Artists . We had looked forward to what we hoped to be our first informal meeting with a number of Moscow 's artists . Instead , we became involved in a series of friendly , but overly formal , welcoming addresses to which we had no choice but to reply in kind . The terms of friendship , understanding , cooperation , etc. , tend to become somewhat shopworn because of constant and indiscriminate use . I can only hope that the continuing exchange of groups and individuals between our countries will not wear out all language pertinent to the occasion . The presiding female functionary , of massive proportions and forbidding appearance , initially did not contribute to the expressions of friendship and welcome by a number of dignified gentlemen representing the arts . It was only after we had responded , with what I fear were similar cliches , that she went into action by questioning our desire for friendship and understanding with a challenge about aggressive and warlike actions by the U.S. Government in Cuba and Laos . She retreated by leaving the room when we suggested that our meeting might well terminate right then and there . Unfortunately she returned later , just as I had taken advantage of the friendlier atmosphere in the room by stating that perhaps an unexpected result of the Cultural Exchange Program would be the re-emergence of Abstract Art in Russia , with Social Realism regaining dominance in the U.S. This gave her an opportunity to ring down the curtain with the petulant admonition that we should not presume to lecture her on Abstraction . She did not go so far as to say , as was done on other occasions , that Abstraction as well as Impressionism were a Russian invention that had been discarded as unwanted by the people of the U.S.S.R. Pozatti and I could not know then that we would experience this sort of treatment more often in Moscow than elsewhere . We were to discover , in fact , that quite a number of people share with us the impression that , in contrast to other Soviet regions , Moscow 's atmosphere is depressingly subdued and official . To have one 's intentions deliberately or unintentionally misunderstood is always a waste of time . Until our Moscow experience , I had not considered it necessary to prepare any argument formally or informally . Artists simply do not talk to each other in that fashion ; and , furthermore , I could not presume the implication that I spoke for American artists as a group . To save time , some clarification seemed necessary . The following is a statement read to a large and friendly group of your fellow artists in Leningrad : " We have come to your land with the express intention of understanding and respecting your ideas and your ways . Our presence here should also be considered further , sincere evidence of the attempts by our people and their chosen government to seek any and all possible ways to effect closer , peaceful ties among all people . We are quite convinced that one of the main hopes for the future depends upon the informal contacts and exchanges of ideas between individuals . In spite of the relatively short period of time that we have experienced among you , we have already seen many indications of your character and spirit . We are acutely aware that yours is a society which , in spite of several wars and many privations , has developed itself into one of the foremost nations of the world . Your past history is resplendent with the fruits of the intellect . Your present history is equally admirable for its industrial and scientific achievements . We have come to you to experience something of your way of life while also attempting to acquaint you with that of ours . While we , as American artists , believe deeply in the universal character of all intellectual activity , we would be less than honest with you , or ourselves , if we failed to state a specific attitude toward our own society as well as the international community as a whole . In stating this position , we should like to make it clear to you that we can not expect artists and intellectuals in other lands to share our opinion in every respect . As a matter of fact , we prize the diversity among our own people so much that we will not presume to speak for all other American artists . But certainly , all will agree that it is not so much the knowledge and search for similarities between you and us , but rather the thoughtful exploration and acceptance of our differences which may lead us to our respective and desired goals with a minimum of misunderstanding . Like yourselves , we have pride and love for our country . To many of us , this is a land to which we or our parents fled from totalitarian terror in order to live in dignified freedom . As artists we feel the same obligation , as do other individuals , in considering ourselves responsible citizens of a great nation . The Sane Society is an ambitious work . Its scope is as broad as the question : What does it mean to live in modern society ? A work so broad , even when it is directed by a leading idea and informed by a moral vision , must necessarily " fail " . Even a hasty reader will easily find in it numerous blind spots , errors of fact and argument , important exclusions , areas of ignorance and prejudice , undue emphases on trivia , examples of broad positions supported by flimsy evidence , and the like . Such books are easy prey for critics . Nor need the critic be captious. a careful and orderly man , who values precision and a kind of tough intellectual responsibility , might easily be put off by such a book . It is a simple matter , for one so disposed , to take a work like The Sane Society and shred it into odds and ends . The thing can be made to look like the cluttered attic of a large and vigorous family — a motley jumble of discarded objects , some outworn and some that were never useful , some once whole and bright but now chipped and tarnished , some odd pieces whose history no one remembers , here and there a gem , everything fascinating because it suggests some part of the human condition — the whole adding up to nothing more than a glimpse into the disorderly history of the makers and users . That could be easily done , but there is little reason in it . It would come down to saying that Fromm paints with a broad brush , and that , after all , is not a conclusion one must work toward but an impression he has from the outset . I mention these features of the book because they are inherent in the book 's character and therefore must be mentioned . It would be superfluous to build a critique around them . There are more substantial criticisms to be made of Fromm 's account of capitalist civilization . It is worthwhile to recall that Fromm 's treatment has both descriptive and normative aspects . Since I have already discussed his moral position , that discussion is incorporated by reference into the following pages , which will focus on the empirical and analytic side of Fromm 's treatment . I shall first indicate a couple of weaknesses in Fromm 's analysis , then argue that , granted these weaknesses , he still has much left that is valuable , and , finally , raise the general question of a philosophical versus a sociological approach to the question of alienation . Almost no empirical work has been done on the problem of alienation . Despite its rather long intellectual history , alienation is still a promising hypothesis and not a verified theory . The idea has received much attention in philosophy , in literature , and in a few works of general social criticism , such as The Sane Society . What is missing is work that would answer , presumably by the use of survey methods and Guttman-type attitude scales , such questions as these : What are the components of the feeling-state described as alienation ? How widespread is alienation ? What is its incidence among the various classes and subgroups of the population ? Taking alienation as a dependent variable , with what socio-structural factors is it most highly associated ? Considered as an independent variable , how does it affect behavior in various sectors of life ? Until such work is done , there must remain the nagging suspicion that alienation may be little more than an expression of the malaise of the intellectual , who , rejected by and in turn rejecting the larger society , projects his own fear and despair onto the broader social screen . I am not suggesting that Fromm ought to do this kind of work . Nor do I think that alienation is nothing more than a projection of the malaise of the intellectual . I am saying only that until a fuller and different kind of evidence comes in , any discussion of alienation must be understood to have certain important limitations . Until such evidence appears , we must make do with the evidence we have . Here , perhaps , Fromm is vulnerable , for he does not always use the best and most recent evidence available , and he sometimes selects and interprets the evidence in rather special ways . Three examples follow . Fromm 's analysis of alienation in the sphere of production centers around the concepts of the bureaucratization of the corporation , the separation of ownership from control , and the broad ( and thus from the point of view of corporate control , ineffective ) dispersion of stock ownership . For all these points he relies exclusively on Berle and Means 's study of 1932 , The Modern Corporation and Private Property . The broad conclusions of that pioneering work remain undisturbed , but subsequent research has expanded and somewhat altered their empirical support , has suggested important revisions in the general analytic frame of reference , and has sharpened the meaning of particular analytic concepts in this area . Fromm seems unaware of these developments . Another example is his very infrequent use of the large amount of data from surveys designed to discover what and how people actually do feel and think on a broad range of topics : he cites such survey-type findings just three times . Moreover , the conclusions he draws from the findings are not always the only ones possible . For example , he cites the following data from two studies on job satisfaction : in the first study , 85 per cent of professionals and executives , 64 per cent of white collar people , and 41 per cent of factory workers expressed satisfaction with their jobs ; in the second study , the percentages were 86 for professionals , 74 for managerial persons , 42 for commercial employees , 56 for skilled workers , and 48 for semi-skilled workers . He concludes that these data show a " remarkably high " percentage of consciously dissatisfied and unhappy persons among factory and clerical workers . Starting from other value premises than Fromm 's , some analysts might conclude that the percentages really tell us very little at all , while others might even conclude that the figures are remarkably low . Eric Hoffer , for example , once said that America was a paradise — the only one in the history of the world — for workingmen and small children . What matters is that while Fromm 's reading of the data is not the only one possible , it is precisely the one we would expect from a writer who earnestly believes that every man can and ought to be happy and satisfied . Fromm also cites a poll on attitudes toward work restriction conducted by the Opinion Research Corporation in 1945 , in which 49 per cent of manual workers said a man ought to turn out as much as he could in a day 's work , while 41 per cent said he should not do his best but should turn out only the average amount . Fromm says these data show that job dissatisfaction and resentment are widespread . That is one way to read the findings , but again there are other ways . One might use such findings to indicate the strength of informal primary associations in the factory , an interpretation which would run counter to Fromm 's theory of alienation . Or , he might remind Fromm that the 41 per cent figure is really astonishingly low : after all , the medieval guild system was dedicated to the proposition that 100 per cent of the workers ought to turn out only the average amount ; and today 's trade unions announce pretty much the same view . In view of these shortcomings in both the amount and the interpretation of survey-type findings on public opinion , and considering the criticisms which can be brought against Fromm 's philosophical anthropology , such a passage as the following can not be taken seriously . " Are people happy , are they as satisfied , unconsciously , as they believe themselves to be ? Considering the nature of man , and the conditions for happiness , this can hardly be so " . The ambiguities suggested above stem from a more basic difficulty in Fromm 's style of thought . He seems to use the term alienation in two different ways . Sometimes he uses it as a subjective , descriptive term , and sometimes as an objective , diagnostic one . That is , sometimes it is used to describe felt human misery , and other times it is postulated to explain unfelt anxiety and discontent . The failure to keep these two usages distinct presents hazards to the reader . It also permits Fromm to do some dubious things with empirical findings . When alienation is used as an objective and diagnostic category , for example , it becomes clear that Fromm would have to say that awareness of alienation goes far toward conquering it . ( He in effect does say this in his discussion of the pseudo-happiness of the automaton conformist . ) Starting from this , and accepting his estimate of the iniquities of modern society , it would follow that the really disturbing evidence of alienation would be that of a work-satisfaction survey which reported widespread , stated worker satisfaction , rather than widespread , stated worker dissatisfaction . The point is that in a system such as Fromm 's which recognizes unconscious motivations , and which rests on certain ethical absolutes , empirical data can be used to support whatever proposition the writer is urging at the moment . Thus , in the example cited above Fromm rests his whole case on the premise that the workers are being deprived unconsciously , unknowingly , of fulfillment , and then supports this with survey data reporting conscious , experienced frustrations . He has his cake and eats it too : if the workers say they are dissatisfied , this shows conscious alienation ; if they say they are satisfied , this shows unconscious alienation . This sort of manipulation is especially troublesome in Fromm 's work because , although his system is derived largely from certain philosophic convictions , he asserts that it is based on empirical findings drawn both from social science and from his own consulting room . While the " empirical psychoanalytic " label which Fromm claims sheds no light on the validity of his underlying philosophy , it does increase the marketability of his product . The final example of the failure to use available evidence , though evidence of a different kind from that which has so far been considered , comes from Fromm 's treatment of some other writers who have dealt with the same themes . In a brief chapter dealing with " Various Other Diagnoses " , he quotes isolated passages from some writers whose views seem to corroborate his own , and finds it " most remarkable that a critical view of twentieth-century society was already held by a number of thinkers living in the nineteenth … " . He finds it equally " remarkable that their critical diagnosis and prognosis should have so much in common among themselves and with the critics of the twentieth century " . There is nothing remarkable about this at all . It is largely a matter of finding passages that suit one 's purposes . There is a difference between evidence and illustration , and Fromm 's citation of the other diagnosticians fits the latter category . Glance at the list : Burckhardt , Tolstoy , Proudhon , Thoreau , London , Marx , Tawney , Mayo , Durkheim , Tannenbaum , Mumford , A. R. Heron , Huxley , Schweitzer , and Einstein . This is a delightfully motley collection . One can make them say the same thing only by not listening to them very carefully and hearing only what one wants to hear . The method of selection Fromm uses achieves exactly that . Furthermore , the list is interesting for its omissions . It omits , for example , practically the whole line of great nineteenth century English social critics , nearly all the great writers whose basic position is religious , and all those who are with more or less accuracy called Existentialists . Of course , the list also excludes all writers who are fairly " optimistic " about the modern situation ; these , almost by definition , are spokesmen for an alienated ideology . It is not hard to find that concurrence of opinion which Fromm finds so remarkable when you ignore all who hold a different opinion . Turning from these problems of the use of evidence , one meets another type of difficulty in Fromm 's analysis , which is his loose and ambiguous use of certain important terms . One such instance has already been presented : his use of alienation . The only other one I shall mention here is his use of the term capitalism . For Fromm , capitalism is the enemy , the root of all evil . It is of course useful to have a sovereign cause in one 's social criticism , for it makes diagnosis and prescription much easier than they might otherwise be . If one characteristic distinguishes Boris Godunov , it is the consistency with which every person on the stage — including the chorus — comes alive in the music . Much of this lifelike quality results from Mussorgsky 's care in basing his vocal line on natural speech inflections . In this he followed a path that led back to the very source of opera ; such composers as Monteverdi , Lully and Purcell , with the same goal in mind , had developed styles of recitative sensitively attuned to their own languages . Through long experimentation in his songs , Mussorgsky developed a Russian recitative as different from others as the language itself . Giving most of his musical continuity to the orchestra , he lets the speech fall into place as if by coincidence , but controlling the pace and emphasis of the words . The moments of sung melody , in the usual sense , come most often when the character is actually supposed to be singing , as in folk songs and liturgical chants . Otherwise Mussorgsky reserves his vocal melodies for prolonged expressions of emotion — Boris ' first monologue , for example . Even then , the flexibility of the phrasing suggests that the word comes first in importance . Aside from Boris himself , one need but examine the secondary roles to place Mussorgsky among the masters of musical portraiture . Even those who appear in only one or two scenes are full personalities , defined with economical precision . Consider the four monks who figure prominently in the action : Pimen , Varlaam , Missail and the Jesuit Rangoni . Under no circumstances could we mistake one for the other ; each musical setting has an individual touch . Pimen is an old man , weak in body — his voice rarely rises to a full forte — but firm and clear of mind . His calmness offers contrast to Grigori 's youthful excitement . A quiet but sturdy theme , somewhat folklike in character , appears whenever the old monk speaks of the history he is recording or of his own past life : This theme comes to represent the outer world , the realm of battles and banquets — seen from a distance , quite distinct from the quieter spiritual life in the monastery . It changes and develops according to the text ; it introduces Pimen when he comes before Boris in the last act . Once he has been identified , however , a new melody is used to accompany his narrative , a bleak motif with barren octaves creating a rather ancient effect : An imaginative storyteller , Pimen takes on the character he describes , as if he were experiencing the old shepherd 's blindness and miraculous cure . Here the composer uses a favorite device of his , the intensification of the mood through key relationships . The original D minor seems to symbolize blindness , inescapable in spite of all attempts to move away from it . As the child addresses the shepherd in a dream , light — in the form of the major mode — begins to appear , and at the moment of the miracle we hear a clear and shining D major . Varlaam and Missail always appear together and often sing together , in a straightforward , rhythmically vigorous idiom that distinguishes them from the more subtle and well-educated Pimen . Their begging song might easily be a folk melody : The same could be said for the song to which they make their entrance in the final scene . Apparently their origin is humble , their approach to life direct and unsophisticated . Whatever learning they may have had in their order does n't disturb them now . Missail is the straight man , not very talkative , mild-mannered when he does speak . Varlaam is loud , rowdy , uninhibited in his pleasures and impatient with anyone who is not the same . A rough ostinato figure , heard first in the introduction to the inn scene , characterizes him amusingly and reappears whenever he comes into the action : The Song of Kazan , in which this figure becomes a wild-sounding accompaniment , fills in the picture of undisciplined high spirits . The phrasing is irregular , and the abrupt key changes have a primitive forcefulness . ( We can imagine how they startled audiences of the 1870 's . ) Varlaam 's music begins to ramble as he feels the effects of the wine , but he pulls himself together when the need arises . Both monks respond to the guard 's challenge with a few phrases of their begging song ; a clever naturalistic touch is Varlaam 's labored reading of the warrant . As the knack gradually comes back to him , his rhythm becomes steadier , with the rigid monotony of an unskilled reader . For the only time in the opera , words are not set according to their natural inflection ; to do so would have spoiled the dramatic point of the scene . Musically and dramatically , Rangoni is as far removed from the conventional monk as Varlaam . His music shows a sensuality coupled with an eerie quality that suggest somehow a blood-kinship with Dappertutto in Offenbach 's Hoffman . His speech shows none of the native accent of the Russian characters ; in spite of the Italian name , he sounds French . His personality appears more striking by contrast with Marina , who is — perhaps purposely — rather superficially characterized . Rangoni 's first entrance is a musical shock , a sudden open fifth in a key totally unrelated to what has preceded it . The effect is as if he had materialized out of nowhere . He speaks quietly , concealing his authority beneath a smooth humility , just as the shifting harmonies that accompany him all but hide the firm pedal point beneath them . He addresses Marina with great deference , calling her " Princess " at first ; it is only after he has involved her emotions in his scheme that he uses her given name , placing himself by implication in the position of a solicitous father . Curiously , this scene is a close parallel to one that Verdi was writing at the same time , the scene between Amonasro and Aida . Rangoni and Amonasro have the same purpose — forcing the girl to charm the man she loves into serving her country 's cause — and their tactics are much the same . Rangoni begins by describing the sad state of the Church ; this brings a reaction of distress from Marina . The music becomes ethereal as he calls up a vision of her own sainthood : it is she , he tells her , who can bring the truth to Russia and convert the heretics . As if in a trance , she repeats his words — then realizes , with a shock , her own audacity . This is no assignment for a frivolous girl , she assures him . Now Rangoni comes to the point , and we hear , for the first time , a long , downward chromatic scale that will become the characteristic motif of his sinister power . It is a phrase as arresting as a magician 's gesture , with a piquant turn of harmony giving an effect of strangeness . Another theme , sinuously chromatic , appears as he directs her to gain power over Grigori by any means , even at the cost of her honor . Coming from a priest , the music sounds as odd as the advice : Marina rebels at this suggestion . Her pride is as much at stake as her virtue ; she is the unattainable beauty , the princess who turns away suitors by the dozen . Indignantly she denounces Rangoni for his evil thoughts and orders him to leave her . At once the Jesuit pulls out all the stops . To music of a menacing darkness , he describes the powers of Satan gaining control of the girl , poisoning her soul with pride and destroying her beauty . The combined threat of hell-fire and ugliness is too much for her , and she falls terrified at his feet . With another sudden change of mood , he is again calm and protective , exhorting her to trust and obey him as God 's spokesman — and the chromatic scale descends in ominous contradiction . Whatever the source of Rangoni 's power , Marina is his captive now ; we are reminded of this at the end of the next scene , when his theme cuts through the warmth of the love duet , again throwing a chill over the atmosphere . The most unusual feature of Boris , however , is the use of the greatest character of all , the chorus . This is the real protagonist of the drama ; the conflict is not Boris versus Grigori or Shuiski or even the ghost of the murdered child , but Boris versus the Russian people . Mussorgsky makes this quite clear by the extent to which choral scenes propel the action . Boris ' first entrance seems almost a footnote to the splendor of the Coronation Scene , with its dazzling confusion of tonalities . We have a brief glimpse of the Tsar 's public personality , the " official Boris " , but our real focus is on the excitement of the crowd — a signigicant contrast with its halfhearted acclamation in the opening scene , its bitter resentment and fury in the final act . One reason for the unique vitality of the chorus is its great variety in expression . It rarely speaks as a unit . Even in its most conventional appearance , the guests ' song of praise to Marina , there are a few female dissenters criticizing the princess for her coldness . In many passages — for example , the council of boyars — each section of the chorus becomes a character group with a particular opinion . Hot arguments arise between tenors and basses , who will sing in harmony only when they agree on an idea . The opening scene shows this method at its most individual . Mussorgsky paints a telling picture of the common people , those who must suffer the effects of their rulers ' struggle for power without understanding the causes . They are held in control by force , but barely . They will kneel and plead for Boris ' leadership in a strangely intense song , its phrases irregularly broken as if gasping for breath , but when the police with their cudgels move away , they mock and grumble and fight among themselves . There is a quick change from the plaintive song to a conversational tone . " Hey , Mityukh " , asks one group , " what are we shouting about " ? And Mityukh , apparently the intellectual leader of the crowd , replies that he has no notion . The jokes and arguments grow louder until the police return ; then the people strike up their song with even more fervor than before , ending it with a wail of despair . Mussorgsky frequently uses liturgical music with considerable dramatic force . In Pimen 's cell the soft prayers of the monks , heard from offstage , not only help to set the scene but emphasize the contrast between young Grigori 's thoughts and his situation . This is especially striking between Pimen 's quiet exit and Grigori 's vehement outburst against Boris . Again , as Boris feels himself nearing death , a procession files into the hall singing a hymn , its modal harmonies adding a churchly touch to the grim atmosphere : The words are hardly calculated to put the Tsar 's mind at ease . They echo the words with which he has described his own vision of the dying child who " trembles and begs for mercy — and there is no mercy " . The living as well as the dead now accuse him ; this final reminder of his guilt is the fatal one . One of the outstanding assets of the present production is the restoration of the St. Basil 's scene , usually omitted from performances and rarely included in a published score . Though brief , it has a sharp dramatic edge and great poignancy . In addition , it is an important link in the plot , giving us a revealing glimpse of the people 's attitude toward Boris and the false Dimitri . The mayhem in the forest of Kromy is a natural sequel . The St. Basil 's scene opens with little groups of beggars milling around the square , the ever present police keeping them under scrutiny . In the orchestra we hear first a hushed , hesitant pizzicato figure , then the insistent " police " motif as it appeared in the opening scene . The service is over , and a number of people come from the church with their spokesman Mityukh in the lead . They bring the news that the Pretender has been excommunicated ; this is met with scorn by the hearers , who claim that Mityukh is lying or drunk . ( Mussorgsky cleverly contrasts the two groups by their orchestral accompaniment , solemn chords or mocking staccatos . ) There is still more news , Mityukh announces : they have prayed for the soul of the Tsarevich . SO FAR THESE remarks , like most criticisms of Hardy , have tacitly assumed that his poetry is all of a piece , one solid mass of verse expressing a sensibility at a single stage of development . For critics , Hardy has had no poetic periods — one does not speak of early Hardy or late Hardy , or of the London or Max Gate period , but simply of Hardy , as of a poetic monolith . This seems odd when one recalls that he wrote poetry longer than any other major English poet : " Domicilium " is dated " between 1857 and 1860 " ; " Seeing the Moon Rise " is dated August , 1927 . One might expect that in a poetic career of seventy-odd years , some changes in style and method would have occurred , some development taken place . This is not , however , the case , and development is a term which we can apply to Hardy only in a very limited sense . In a time when poetic style , and poetic belief as well , seem in a state of continual flux , Hardy stands out as a poet of almost perverse consistency . Though he struggled with philosophy all his life , he never got much beyond the pessimism of his twenties ; the " sober opinion " of his letter to Noyes , written when Hardy was eighty years old , is essentially that of his first " philosophical " notebook entry , made when he was twenty-five : " The world does not despise us : it only neglects us " ( Early Life , p. 63 ) . And though in his later years he revised his poems many times , the revisions did not alter the essential nature of the style which he had established before he was thirty ; so that , while it usually is easy to recognize a poem by Hardy , it is difficult to date one . There is only one sense in which it is valid to talk about Hardy 's development : he did develop toward a more consistent and more effective control of that tone which we recognize as uniquely his . There is only one Hardy style , but in the earlier poems that style is only intermittently evident , and when it is not , the style is the style of another poet , or of the fashion of the time . In the later poems , however , the personal tone predominates . The bad early poems are bad Shakespeare or bad Swinburne ; the bad late poems are bad Hardy . There are two ways of getting at a poet 's development : through his dated poems , and through the revisions which he made in later editions of his work . About a quarter of Hardy 's poems carry an appended date line , usually the year of completion , but sometimes inclusive years ( " 1908-1910 " ) or two separate dates when Hardy worked on the poem ( " 1905 and 1926 " ) or an approximate date ( " During the War " ) . These dates are virtually the only clues we have to the chronology of the poems , since the separate volumes are neither chronological within themselves nor in relation to each other . With the exception of Satires of Circumstance , each volume contains dated poems ranging over several decades ( Winter Words spans sixty-one years ) ; the internal organization rarely has any chronological order , except in obvious groups like the " Poems of Pilgrimage " , the " Poems of 1912-13 " , and the war poems . From the dated poems we can venture certain conclusions about Hardy 's career in poetry , always remembering that conclusions based on a fraction of the whole must remain tentative . The dated poems suggest that while Hardy 's concern with poetry may have been constant , his production was not . He had two productive periods , one in the late 1860 's , the other in the decade from 1910 to 1920 ( half of the dated poems are from the latter period , and these alone total about one-tenth of all Hardy 's poems ) . There was one sterile period : only one poem is dated between 1872 and 1882 and , except for the poems written on the trip to Italy in 1887 , very few from 1882 to 1890 . The dated poems also give us an idea of the degree to which Hardy drew upon past productions for his various volumes , and therefore probably are an indication of the amount of poetry he was writing at the time . Poems of the Past and the Present and Time 's Laughingstocks , both published while Hardy was at work on The Dynasts , draw heavily on poems written before 1900 . Satires of Circumstance and Moments of Vision , coming during his most productive decade , are relatively self-contained ; the former contains no poem dated before 1909-10 — that is , no poem from a period covered by a previous volume — and the latter has only a few such . The last three volumes are again more dependent on the past , as Hardy 's creative powers declined in his old age . These observations about Hardy 's productivity tally with the details of his life as we know them . The first productive period came when he was considering poetry as a vocation , before he had decided to write fiction for a living ( in his note for Who 's Who he wrote that he " wrote verses 1865-1868 ; gave up verse for prose , 1868-70 ; but resumed it later " ) . During the poetically sterile years he was writing novels at the rate of almost one a year and was , in addition , burdened with bad health ( he spent six months in bed in 1881 , too ill to do more than work slowly and painfully at A Laodicean ) . Two entries in the Early Life support the assumption that during this period Hardy had virtually suspended the writing of poetry . Mrs. Hardy records that " … at the end of November [ 1881 ] he makes a note of an intention to resume poetry as soon as possible " ( Early Life , p. 188 ) ; and on Christmas Day , 1890 , Hardy wrote : " While thinking of resuming 'the viewless wings of poesy' before dawn this morning , new horizons seemed to open , and worrying pettinesses to disappear " ( Early Life , p. 302 ) . There are more poems dated in the 1890 's than in the '80 's — Hardy had apparently resumed the viewless wings as he decreased the volume of his fiction — but none in 1891 , the year of Tess , and only one in 1895 , the year of Jude . After 1895 the number increases , and in the next thirty years there is only one year for which there is no dated poem — 1903 , when Hardy was at work on The Dynasts . The second productive period , the decade from 1910 to 1920 , can be related to three events : the completion of The Dynasts in 1909 , which left Hardy free of pressure for the first time in forty years ; the death of Emma Hardy in 1912 , which had a profound emotional effect on Hardy for which he found release in poetry ; and the First World War . It may seem strange that a poet should come to full fruition in his seventies , but we have it on Hardy 's own authority that " … he was a child till he was sixteen , a youth till he was five-and-twenty , and a young man till he was nearly fifty " ( Early Life , p. 42 ) . We may carry this sequence one step further and say that at seventy he was a poet at the height of his powers , wanting only the impetus of two tragedies , one personal , the other national , to loose those powers in poetry . Hardy 's two productive decades were separated by forty years , yet between them he developed only in that he became more steadily himself — it was a narrowing , not an expanding process . Like a wise gardener , Hardy pruned away the Shakespearian sonnets and songs , and the elements of meter and poetic diction to which his personal style was not suited , and let the main stock of his talent flourish . The range of the later poetry is considerably narrower , but the number of successful poems is far greater . We can see the general characteristics of the earlier decade if we look at two poems of very different qualities : " Revulsion " ( 1866 ) and " Neutral Tones " ( 1867 ) . There is not much to be said for " Revulsion " . Like about half of the 1860-70 poems , it is a sonnet on a conventional theme — the unhappiness of love . Almost anyone could have written it ; it is competent in the sense that it makes a coherent statement without violating the rules of the sonnet form , but it is entirely undistinguished and entirely unlike Hardy . The language is the conventional language of the form ; there is no phrase or image that sounds like Hardy or that is striking enough to give individuality to the poem . It is smoother than Hardy usually is , but with the smoothness of anonymity . It is obviously a young man 's poem , written out of books and not out of experience ; it asserts emotion without evoking it — that is to say , it is sentimental . There are many such competently anonymous performances among the earlier poems . " Neutral Tones " we immediately recognize as a fine poem in Hardy 's most characteristic style : the plain but not quite colloquial language , the hard , particular , colorless images , the slightly odd stanza-form , the dramatic handling of the occasion , the refusal to resolve the issue — all these we have seen in Hardy 's best poems . The poem does not distort the syntax of ordinary speech nor draw on exotic sources of diction , yet it is obviously not ordinary speech — only Hardy would say " a grin of bitterness swept thereby/Like an ominous bird a-wing " , or " wrings with wrong " , or would describe a winter sun as " God-curst " . The details of the setting of " Neutral Tones " are not , strictly speaking , metaphorical , but they combine to create a mood which is appropriate both to a dismal winter day and to the end of love , and in this way love and weather , the emotions and the elements , symbolize each other in a way that is common to many of Hardy 's best poems ( " Weathers " , " The Darkling Thrush " , and " During Wind and Rain " , for example ) and to some moving passages in the novels as well ( Far From the Madding Crowd is full of scenes constructed in this way ) . " Neutral Tones " is an excellent example of Hardy 's mature style , drawn from his earliest productive period ; I cite it as evidence that he did not develop through new styles as he grew older ( as Yeats did ) , but that he simply learned to use better what he already had . In the poem we recognize and acknowledge one man 's sense of the world ; if it is somber , it is also precise , and the precision lends authority to the vision . In " Revulsion " , on the other hand , the pessimism is a case not proven ; the poem offers nothing to persuade us of the speaker 's right to speak as he does . In the 1860-70 decade there are many poems like " Revulsion " , but there is only one " Neutral Tones " . Hardy was not Hardy very often . The " Poems of 1912-13 " offer a good example of Hardy 's style as it was manifested in the later productive decade . These are the poems Hardy wrote after the death of his first wife ; they compose a painful elegy to what might have been , to a marriage that began with a promise of happiness , and ended in long years of suffering and hatred . Hardy obviously felt that these poems were peculiarly personal and private ; he sometimes called them " an expiation " , and he would not allow them to be published in periodicals . They are the only poems that he rearranged as a group between their first appearance ( in Satires of Circumstance ) and the publication of the Collected Poems . The elegiac tone is Hardy 's natural tone of voice , and it is not surprising that the 1912-13 poems are consistently and unmistakably his . The view is always toward the past ; but the mood is not quite nostalgic — Hardy would not allow sentiment to soften his sense of the irredeemable pastness of the past , and the eternal deadness of the dead . The poems are , the epigraph tells us , the " traces of an ancient flame " ; the fire of love is dead , and Hardy stands , as the speaker does in the last poem of the sequence , over the burnt circle of charred sticks , and thinks of past happiness and present grief , honest and uncomforted . Critically invisible , modern revolt , like X-rays and radioactivity , is perceived only by its effects at more materialistic social levels , where it is called delinquency . " Disaffiliation " , by the way , is the term used by the critic and poet , Lawrence Lipton , who has written several articles on this subject , the first of which , in the Nation , quoted as epigraph , " We disaffiliate … " — John L. Lewis . Like the pillars of Hercules , like two ruined Titans guarding the entrance to one of Dante 's circles , stand two great dead juvenile delinquents — the heroes of the post-war generation : the great saxophonist , Charlie Parker , and Dylan Thomas . If the word deliberate means anything , both of them certainly deliberately destroyed themselves . Both of them were overcome by the horror of the world in which they found themselves , because at last they could no longer overcome that world with the weapon of a purely lyrical art . Both of them were my friends . Living in San Francisco I saw them seldom enough to see them with a perspective which was not distorted by exasperation or fatigue . So as the years passed , I saw them each time in the light of an accelerated personal conflagration . The last time I saw Bird , at Jimbo 's Bob City , he was so gone — so blind to the world — that he literally sat down on me before he realized I was there . " What happened , man " ? I said , referring to the pretentious " Jazz Concert " . " Evil , man , evil " , he said , and that 's all he said for the rest of the night . About dawn he got up to blow . The rowdy crowd chilled into stillness and the fluent melody spiraled through it . The last time I saw Dylan , his self-destruction had not just passed the limits of rationality . It had assumed the terrifying inertia of inanimate matter . Being with him was like being swept away by a torrent of falling stones . Now Dylan Thomas and Charlie Parker have a great deal more in common than the same disastrous end . As artists , they were very similar . They were both very fluent . But this fluent , enchanting utterance had , compared with important artists of the past , relatively little content . Neither of them got very far beyond a sort of entranced rapture at his own creativity . The principal theme of Thomas 's poetry was the ambivalence of birth and death — the pain of blood-stained creation . Music , of course , is not so explicit an art , but anybody who knew Charlie Parker knows that he felt much the same way about his own gift . Both of them did communicate one central theme : Against the ruin of the world , there is only one defense — the creative act . This , of course , is the theme of much art — perhaps most poetry . It is the theme of Horace , who certainly otherwise bears little resemblance to Parker or Thomas . The difference is that Horace accepted his theme with a kind of silken assurance . To Dylan and Bird it was an agony and terror . I do not believe that this is due to anything especially frightful about their relationship to their own creativity . I believe rather that it is due to the catastrophic world in which that creativity seemed to be the sole value . Horace 's column of imperishable verse shines quietly enough in the lucid air of Augustan Rome . Art may have been for him the most enduring , orderly , and noble activity of man . But the other activities of his life partook of these values . They did not actively negate them . Dylan Thomas 's verse had to find endurance in a world of burning cities and burning Jews . He was able to find meaning in his art as long as it was the answer to air raids and gas ovens . As the world began to take on the guise of an immense air raid or gas oven , I believe his art became meaningless to him . I think all this could apply to Parker just as well , although , because of the nature of music , it is not demonstrable — at least not conclusively . Thomas and Parker have more in common than theme , attitude , life pattern . In the practice of their art , there is an obvious technical resemblance . Contrary to popular belief , they were not great technical innovators . Their effects are only superficially startling . Thomas is a regression from the technical originality and ingenuity of writers like Pierre Reverdy or Apollinaire . Similarly , the innovations of bop , and of Parker particularly , have been vastly overrated by people unfamiliar with music , especially by that ignoramus , the intellectual jitterbug , the jazz aficionado . The tonal novelties consist in the introduction of a few chords used in classical music for centuries . And there is less rhythmic difference between progressive jazz , no matter how progressive , and Dixieland , than there is between two movements of many conventional symphonies . What Parker and his contemporaries — Gillespie , Davis , Monk , Roach ( Tristano is an anomaly ) , etc. — did was to absorb the musical ornamentation of the older jazz into the basic structure , of which it then became an integral part , and with which it then developed . This is true of the melodic line which could be put together from selected passages of almost anybody — Benny Carter , Johnny Hodges . It is true of the rhythmic pattern in which the beat shifts continuously , or at least is continuously sprung , so that it becomes ambiguous enough to allow the pattern to be dominated by the long pulsations of the phrase or strophe . This is exactly what happened in the transition from baroque to rococo music . It is the difference between Bach and Mozart . It is not a farfetched analogy to say that this is what Thomas did to poetry . The special syntactical effects of a Rimbaud or an Edith Sitwell — actually ornaments — become the main concern . The metaphysical conceits , which fascinate the Reactionary Generation still dominant in backwater American colleges , were embroideries . Thomas 's ellipses and ambiguities are ends in themselves . The immediate theme , if it exists , is incidental , and his main theme — the terror of birth — is simply reiterated . This is one difference between Bird and Dylan which should be pointed out . Again , contrary to popular belief , there is nothing crazy or frantic about Parker either musically or emotionally . His sinuous melody is a sort of na.iuml ; ve transcendence of all experience . Emotionally it does not resemble Berlioz or Wagner ; it resembles Mozart . This is true also of a painter like Jackson Pollock . He may have been eccentric in his behavior , but his paintings are as impassive as Persian tiles . Partly this difference is due to the nature of verbal communication . The insistent talk-aboutiveness of the general environment obtrudes into even the most idyllic poetry . It is much more a personal difference . Thomas certainly wanted to tell people about the ruin and disorder of the world . Parker and Pollock wanted to substitute a work of art for the world . Technique pure and simple , rendition , is not of major importance , but it is interesting that Parker , following Lester Young , was one of the leaders of the so-called saxophone revolution . In modern jazz , the saxophone is treated as a woodwind and played with conventional embouchure . Metrically , Thomas 's verse was extremely conventional , as was , incidentally , the verse of that other tragic enrage , Hart Crane . I want to make clear what I consider the one technical development in the first wave of significant post-war arts . Ornament is confabulation in the interstices of structure . A poem by Dylan Thomas , a saxophone solo by Charles Parker , a painting by Jackson Pollock — these are pure confabulations as ends in themselves . Confabulation has come to determine structure . Uninhibited lyricism should be distinguished from its exact opposite — the sterile , extraneous invention of the corn-belt metaphysicals , or present blight of poetic professors . Just as Hart Crane had little influence on anyone except very reactionary writers — like Allen Tate , for instance , to whom Valery was the last word in modern poetry and the felicities of an Apollinaire , let alone a Paul Eluard were nonsense — so Dylan Thomas 's influence has been slight indeed . In fact , his only disciple — the only person to imitate his style — was W. S. Graham , who seems to have imitated him without much understanding , and who has since moved on to other methods . Thomas 's principal influence lay in the communication of an attitude — that of the now extinct British romantic school of the New Apocalypse — Henry Treece , J. F. Hendry , and others — all of whom were quite conventional poets . Parker certainly had much more of an influence . At one time it was the ambition of every saxophone player in every high school band in America to blow like Bird . Even before his death this influence had begun to ebb . In fact , the whole generation of the founding fathers of bop — Gillespie , Monk , Davis , Blakey , and the rest — are just now at a considerable discount . The main line of development today goes back to Lester Young and by-passes them . The point is that many of the most impressive developments in the arts nowadays are aberrant , idiosyncratic . There is no longer any sense of continuing development of the sort that can be traced from Baudelaire to Eluard , or for that matter , from Hawthorne through Henry James to Gertrude Stein . The cubist generation before World War /1 , , and , on a lower level , the surrealists of the period between the wars , both assumed an accepted universe of discourse , in which , to quote Andre Breton , it was possible to make definite advances , exactly as in the sciences . I doubt if anyone holds such ideas today . Continuity exits , but like the neo-swing music developed from Lester Young , it is a continuity sustained by popular demand . In the plastic arts , a very similar situation exists . Surrealists like Hans Arp and Max Ernst might talk of creation by hazard — of composing pictures by walking on them with painted soles , or by tossing bits of paper up in the air . But it is obvious that they were self-deluded . Nothing looks anything like an Ernst or an Arp but another Ernst or Arp . Nothing looks less like their work than the happenings of random occasion . Many of the post-World War /2 , abstract expressionists , apostles of the discipline of spontaneity and hazard , look alike , and do look like accidents . The aesthetic appeal of pure paint laid on at random may exist , but it is a very impoverished appeal . Once again what has happened is an all-consuming confabulation of the incidentals , the accidents of painting . It is curious that at its best , the work of this school of painting — Mark Rothko , Jackson Pollock , Clyfford Still , Robert Motherwell , Willem de-Kooning , and the rest — resembles nothing so much as the passage painting of quite unimpressive painters : the mother-of-pearl shimmer in the background of a Henry McFee , itself a formula derived from Renoir ; the splashes of light and black which fake drapery in the fashionable imitators of Hals and Sargent . Often work of this sort is presented as calligraphy — the pure utterance of the brush stroke seeking only absolute painteresque values . You have only to compare such painting with the work of , say , Sesshu , to realize that someone is using words and brushes carelessly . At its best the abstract expressionists achieve a simple rococo decorative surface . Its poverty shows up immediately when compared with Tiepolo , where the rococo rises to painting of extraordinary profundity and power . A Tiepolo painting , however confabulated , is a universe of tensions in vast depths . A Pollock is an object of art — bijouterie — disguised only by its great size . In fact , once the size is big enough to cover a whole wall , it turns into nothing more than extremely expensive wallpaper . Now there is nothing wrong with complicated wallpaper . There is just more to Tiepolo . The great Ashikaga brush painters painted wallpapers , too — at least portable ones , screens . A process of elimination which leaves the artist with nothing but the play of his materials themselves can not sustain interest in either artist or public for very long . So , in the last couple of years , abstract expressionism has tended toward romantic suggestion — indications of landscape or living figures . ANGLO-SAXON and Greek epic each provide on two occasions a seemingly authentic account of the narration of verse in the heroic age . Hrothgar 's court bard sings of the encounters at Finnsburg ( lines 1068-1159 ) , and improvises the tale of Beowulf 's exploits in a complimentary comparison of the Geatish visitor with Sigemund ( lines 871-892 ) ; Alcino.uuml ; s' court bard sings of the discovered adultery of Ares and Aphrodite ( Odyssey /8 , .266-366 ) , and takes up a tale of Odysseus while the Ithacan wanderer listens on ( Odyssey /8 , .499-520 ) . Nothing in all this is autobiographical : unlike the poets of Deor and Widsith , the poet of Beowulf is not concerned with his own identity ; the poet of the Odyssey , reputed blind , reveals himself not at all in singing of the blind minstrel Demodocus . Since none of these glimpses of poetizing without writing is intended to incorporate a signature into the epic matter , there is prima-facie evidence that Beowulf and the Homeric poems each derive from an oral tradition . That such a tradition lies behind the Iliad and the Odyssey , at least , is hard to deny . Milman Parry rigorously defended the observation that the extant Homeric poems are largely formulaic , and was led to postulate that they could be shown entirely formulaic if the complete corpus of Greek epic survived ; he further reasoned that frequent formulas in epic verse indicate oral composition , and assumed the slightly less likely corollary that oral epic is inclined towards the use of formulas . Proceeding from Parry 's conclusions and adopting one of his schemata , Francis P. Magoun , Jr. , argues that Beowulf likewise was created from a legacy of oral formulas inherited and extended by bards of successive generations , and the thesis is striking and compelling . Yet a fresh inspection will indicate one crucial amendment : Beowulf and the Homeric poems are not at all formulaic to the same extent . The bondage endurable by an oral poet is to be estimated only by a very skilful oral poet , but it appears safe to assume that no sustained narrative in rhyme could be composed without extreme difficulty , even in a language of many terminal inflections . Assonance seems nearly as severe a curb , although in a celebrated passage William of Malmesbury declares that a Song of Roland was intoned before the battle commenced at Hastings . The Anglo-Saxon alliterative line and the Homeric hexameter probably imposed less of a restraint ; the verse of Beowulf or of the Iliad and the Odyssey was not easy to create but was not impossible for poets who had developed their talents perforce in earning a livelihood . Yet certain aids were valuable and quite credibly necessary for reciting long stretches of verse without a pause . The poet in a written tradition who generally never blots a line may once in a while pause and polish without incurring blame . But the oral poet can not pause ; he must improvise continuously with no apparent effort . Even though the bondage of his verse is not so great as the writing poet can manage , it is still great enough for him often to be seriously impeded unless he has aids to facilitate rapid composition . The Germanic poet had such aids in the kennings , which provided for the difficulties of alliteration ; the Homeric poet had epithets , which provided for recurring needs in the hexameter . Either poet could quickly and easily select words or phrases to supply his immediate requirements as he chanted out his lines , because the kennings and the epithets made possible the construction of systems of numerous synonyms for the chief common and proper nouns . Other synonyms could of course serve the same function , and for the sake of ease I shall speak of kennings and epithets in the widest and loosest poss1ble sense , and name , for example , Gar-Dene a kenning for the Danes . Verbal and adverbial elements too participated in each epic diction , but it is for the present sufficient to mark the large nominal and adjectival supply of semantic near-equivalents , and to designate the members of any system of equivalents as basic formulas of the poetic language . Limited to a few thousand lines of heroic verse in Anglo-Saxon as in the other Germanic dialects , we can not say how frequently the kennings in Beowulf recurred in contemporary epic on the same soil . But we can say that since a writing poet , with leisure before him , would seem unlikely to invent a technique based upon frequent and substantial circumlocution , the kennings like the epithets must reasonably be ascribed to an oral tradition . One of the greatest Homerists of our time , Frederick M. Combellack , argues that when it is assumed the Iliad and the Odyssey are oral poems , the postulated single redactor called Homer can not be either credited with or denied originality in choice of phrasing . Any example of grand or exquisite diction may have been created by the poet who compiled numerous lays into the two works we possess or may be due to one of his completely unknown fellow-craftsmen . The quest of the historical Homer is likely never to have further success ; no individual word in the Iliad or the Odyssey can be credited to any one man ; no strikingly effective element of speech in the extant poems can with assurance be said not to have been a commonplace in the vaster epic corpus that may have existed at the beginning of the first millennium before Christ . This observation is of interest not only to students of Homeric poetry but to students of Anglo-Saxon poetry as well . To the extent that a tale is twice told , its final author must be suspect , although plagiarism in an oral tradition is less a misdemeanor than the standard modus dicendi . Combellack argues further , and here he makes his main point , that once the Iliad and the Odyssey are thought formulaic poems composed for an audience accustomed to formulaic poetry , Homeric critics are deprived of an entire domain they previously found arable . With a few important and a few more unimportant exceptions , no expression can be deemed le mot juste for its context , because each was very probably the only expression that long-established practice and ease of rapid recitation would allow . Words or phrases that connoisseurs have admired as handsome or ironic or humorous must therefore lose merit and become regarded as mere inevitable time-servers , sometimes accurate and sometimes not . This observation too may have reference to Anglo-Saxon poetry . To the extent that a language is formulaic , its individual components must be regarded as no more distinguished than other cliches . W. F. Bryan suggests that certain kennings in Beowulf were selected sometimes for appropriateness and sometimes for ironic inappropriateness , but such a view would appear untenable unless it is denied that the language of Beowulf is formulaic . If the master of scops who was most responsible for the poem ever used kennings that were traditional , he was at least partly deprived of free will and not inclined towards shrewd and sophisticated misuse of speech elements . Once many significant phrases are found in theory or in recurrent practice to provide for prosodic necessity , they are not to be defended for their semantic properties in isolated contexts . It is false to be certain of having discovered in the language of Beowulf such effects as intentional irony . Yet , if the argument is turned awry , there may be found a great deal in Bryan 's view , after all . A formulaic element need not be held meaningless merely because it was selected with little conscious reflection . Time-servers though the periphrastic expressions are , they may nevertheless be handsome or ironic or humorous . A long evolution in an oral tradition caused the poetic language of the heroic age to be based upon formulas that show the important qualities of things , and these formulas are therefore potentially rather than always actually accurate . True , we do not know how they were regarded in their day , but we need not believe the epic audience to have been more insensitive to the formulas than the numerous scholars of modern times who have read Germanic or Homeric poetry all their lives and still found much to admire in occasional occurrences of the most familiar phrases . Nouns and adjectives in a written tradition are chosen for the nonce ; in an oral tradition they may be chosen for the entire epic corpus , and tend towards idealization rather than distinctive delineation . Reliance is therefore not to be placed upon the archaeological particulars in an oral poem ; no-one today would hope to discover the unmistakable ruins of Heorot or the palace of Priam . A ship at dry-dock could be called a foamy-necked floater in Anglo-Saxon or a swift ship in Greek . Even when defenseless of weapons the Danes would be Gar-Dene ( as their king is Hrothgar ) and Priam would be eummelihs . Achilles , like Siegfried in the Nibelungenlied , is potentially the swiftest of men and may accordingly be called swift-footed even when he stands idle . In Coriolanus the agnomen of Marcius is used deliberately and pointedly , but the Homeric epithets and the Anglo-Saxon kennings are used casually and recall to the hearer " a familiar story or situation or a useful or pleasant quality of the referent " . The epic language was not entirely the servant of the poet ; it was partly his master . The poet 's intentions are difficult to discern and , except to biographers , unimportant ; the language , however , is a proper object of scrutiny , and the effects of the language are palpable even if sometimes inevitable . Beowulf and the Homeric poems appear oral compositions . Yet they are written ; at some stage in their evolution they were transcribed . Albert B. Lord suggests that the Homeric poems were dictated to a scribe by a minstrel who held in his mind the poems fully matured but did not himself possess the knowledge of writing since it would be useless to his guild , and Magoun argues that the Beowulf poet and Cynewulf may have dictated their verse in the same fashion . This explanation is attractive , but is vitiated at least in part by the observation that Cynewulf , though he used kennings in the traditional manner , was a literate man who four times inscribed his name by runes into his works . If Cynewulf was literate , the Beowulf poet may have been also , and so may the final redactor of the Iliad and the Odyssey . In lieu of the amanuensis to the blind or illiterate bard , one may conceive of a man who heard a vast store of oral poetry recited , and became intimately familiar with the established aids to poetizing , and himself wrote his own compositions or his edition of the compositions of the past . Other theories of origin are compatible with the formulaic theory : Beowulf may contain a design for terror , and the Iliad may have a vast hysteron-proteron pattern answering to a ceramic pattern produced during the Geometric Period in pottery . The account of the growth and final transcription of these epics rests partly , however , upon the degree to which they were formulaic . Carl Eduard Schmidt counted 1804 different lines repeated exactly in the two Homeric poems , and by increasing this figure so as to include lines repeated with very slight modifications he counted 2118 different lines used a total of 5612 times . Thus one line in five from the Iliad and the Odyssey is to be found somewhere else in the two poems . The ratio is thoroughly remarkable , because the lines are so long — half again as long as those of Beowulf . Anglo-Saxon poetry appears to have no comparable amount of repetition ; there is no reason to think that the scop used and re-used whole lines and even lengthy passages after the manner of his Homeric colleague . In determining the extent to which any poem is formulaic it is idle , however , to inspect nothing besides lines repeated in their entirety , for a stock of line-fragments would be sufficient to permit the poet to extemporize with deftness if they provided for prosodic needs . The closest scrutiny is owed to the Anglo-Saxon kennings and the Homeric epithets ; if any words or phrases are formulaic , they will be . The Iliad has two words for the shield , aspis and sakos . RECENT CRITICISM OF Great Expectations has tended to emphasize its symbolic and mythic content , to show , as M. D. Zabel has said of Dickens generally , that much of the novel 's impact resides in its " allegoric insight and moral metaphor " . J. H. Miller 's excellent chapter on Great Expectations has lately illustrated how fruitfully that novel can be read from such a perspective . In his analysis , however , he touches upon but fails to explore an idea , generally neglected in discussions of the book , which I believe is central to its art — the importance of human hands as a recurring feature of the narrative . This essay seeks to make that exploration . Dickens was not for nothing the most theatrical of the great Victorian writers . He knew instinctively that next to voice and face an actor 's hands are his most useful possession — that in fiction as in the theatre , gesture is an indispensable shorthand for individualizing character and dramatizing action and response . It is hardly accidental , therefore , that many of his most vivid figures do suggestive or eccentric things with their hands . In Great Expectations the hands become almost an obsession . Mr. Jaggers habitually bites his forefinger , a gesture which conveys both contempt and the inscrutable abstractedness that half fascinates , half terrifies all who have dealings with him . Miss Havisham 's withered hands , heavy as if her unhappiness were somehow concentrated in them , move in restless self-pity between her broken heart and her walking stick . Pumblechook 's " signature " is the perpetually extended glad hand . Wemmick reveals his self-satisfaction by regularly rubbing his hands together . Old Mr. Pocket 's frantic response to life imprisonment with a useless , social-climbing wife is to " put his two hands into his disturbed hair " and " make an extraordinary effort to lift himself up by it " , ( 23 ) whereas Joe Gargery endures the shrewish onslaughts of Mrs. Joe by apologetically drawing " the back of his hand across and across his nose " . ( 7 ) Such mannerisms would be less worthy of remark , were it not that in Great Expectations , as in no other of Dickens ' novels , hands serve as a leitmotif of plot and theme — a kind of unifying symbol or natural metaphor for the book 's complex of human interrelationships and the values and attitudes that motivate them . Dickens not only reveals character through gesture , he makes hands a crucial element of the plot , a means of clarifying the structure of the novel by helping to define the hero 's relations with all the major characters , and a device for ordering such diverse themes as guilt , pursuit , crime , greed , education , materialism , enslavement ( by both people and institutions ) , friendship , romantic love , forgiveness , and redemption . We have only to think of Lady Macbeth or the policeman-murderer in Thomas Burke 's famous story , " The Hands of Mr. Ottermole " , to realize that hands often call up ideas of crime and punishment . So it is with Great Expectations , whether the hands be Orlick 's as he strikes down Mrs. Gargery or Pip 's as he steals a pie from her pantry . Such associations suit well with the gothic or mystery-story aspects of Dickens ' novel , but , on a deeper plane , they relate to the themes of sin , guilt , and pursuit that have recently been analyzed by other critics . The novel opens with a fugitive convict frantically trying to avoid the nemesis of being " laid hands on " — ( 3 ) a mysterious figure who looks into Pip 's frightened eyes in the churchyard " as if he were eluding the hands of the dead people , stretching up cautiously out of their graves , to get a twist upon his ankle and pull him in " . ( 1 ) Magwitch terrifies Pip into stealing a pork pie for him by creating the image in the boy 's imagination of a bogy man who may " softly creep … his way to him and tear him open " , ( 1 ) " imbruing his hands " ( 2 ) in him . As Pip agonizes over the theft that his own hands have committed , his guilty conscience projects itself upon the wooden finger of a local signpost , transforming it into " a phantom devoting me to the Hulks " . ( 3 ) Held upside down in the graveyard , Pip clings in terror " with both hands " ( 1 ) to his convict ; later he flees in panic from the family table just as his theft is about to be discovered and is blocked at the front door by a soldier who accusingly holds out a pair of handcuffs which he has brought to Gargery 's forge for mending . Through such details Dickens indicates at the outset that guilt is a part of the ironic bond between Pip and Magwitch which is so unpredictably to alter both their lives . Since they commonly translate thoughts and feelings into deeds , hands naturally represent action , and since nearly half the characters in Great Expectations are of the underworld or closely allied to it , the linking of hands with crime or violence is not to be wondered at . Dickens , for excellent psychological reasons , never fully reveals Magwitch 's felonious past , but Pip , at the convict 's climactic reappearance in London , shrinks from clasping a hand which he fears " might be stained with blood " . ( 39 ) Orlick slouches about the forge " like Cain " with " his hands in his pockets " , ( 15 ) and when he shouts abuse at Mrs. Joe for objecting to his holiday , she claps her hands in a tantrum , beats them " upon her bosom and upon her knees " , ( 15 ) and clenches them in her husband 's hair . This last " rampage " is only the prelude to the vicious blow upon her head , " dealt by some unknown hand " ( 15 ) whose identity is later revealed not verbally but through a manual action — the tracing of Orlick 's hammer upon a slate . Pip himself is to feel the terror of Orlick 's " murderous hand " ( 53 ) in his secret rendezvous at the sluicehouse on the marshes . Dickens lays great emphasis on the hands in this scene . Orlick shakes his hand at Pip , bangs the table with his fist , draws his unclenched hand " across his mouth as if his mouth watered " for his victim , lets his hands hang " loose and heavy at his sides " , and Pip observes him so intensely that he knows " of the slightest action of his fingers " . ( 53 ) Orlick might almost be Magwitch 's bogy man come alive , a figure of nemesis from Pip 's phantasy of guilt . The scarred , disfigured wrists of Mr. Jaggers ' housekeeper are the tell-tale marks of her sinister past , for her master , coolly exhibiting them to his dinner guests , makes a point of the " force of grip there is in these hands " . ( 26 ) Jaggers ' iron control over her ( " … she would remove her hands from any dish she put before him , hesitatingly , as if she dreaded his calling her back … " . ) ( 26 ) rests on his having once got her acquitted of a murder charge by cleverly contriving her sleeves at the trial to conceal her strength and by passing off the lacerations on the backs of her hands as the scratches of brambles rather than of human fingernails . It is the similarity between Estella 's hands and Molly 's ( " The action of her fingers was like the action of knitting " ) ( 48 ) that provides Pip with a vital clue to the real identity of both and establishes a symbolic connection between the underworld of crime and the genteel cruelty of Satis House . Finally , Magwitch 's pursuit of Compeyson , his archenemy and betrayer , begins by his holding him in a vicelike grip on the river flats to frustrate his escape and culminates in his " laying his hand on his cloak to identify him " , ( 54 ) thus precipitating the death-locked struggle in the water during which Compeyson drowns . Magwitch 's hand here ironically becomes the agent of justice . But only in one of its aspects is Great Expectations a tale of violence , revenge , and retribution . Money , so important a theme elsewhere in Dickens , is here central , and hands are often associated in some way with the false values — acquisitiveness , snobbery , self-interest , hypocrisy , toadyism , irresponsibility , injustice — that attach to a society based upon the pursuit of wealth . Dickens suggests the economic evils of such a society on the first page of his novel in the description of Pip 's five little dead brothers " who gave up trying to get a living exceedingly early in that universal struggle " , who seemed to have " all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets , and had never taken them out in this state of existence " . ( 1 ) Pip 's great expectations , his progress through illusion and disillusionment , turn , somewhat as they do for the naive hero of Dreiser 's American Tragedy , upon the lure of genteel prosperity through unearned income — what Wemmick calls " portable property " and what Jaggers reproaches Pip for letting " slip through [ his ] fingers " . ( 55 ) Since a gentleman must , if possible , avoid sullying them by work , his hands , as importantly as his accent , become the index of social status . Almost the first step in the corruption of Pip 's values is the unworthy shame he feels when Estella cruelly remarks the coarseness of his hands : " They had never troubled me before , but they troubled me now , as vulgar appendages " . ( 8 ) Pip imagines how Estella would look down upon Joe 's hands , roughened by work in the smithy , and the deliberate contrast between her white hands and his blackened ones is made to symbolize the opposition of values between which Pip struggles — idleness and work , artificiality and naturalness , gentility and commonness , coldness and affection — in fact , between Satis House and the forge . When the snobbery that alienates Pip from Joe finally gives way before the deeper and stronger force of love , the reunion is marked by an embarrassed handshake at which Pip exclaims " No , do n't wipe it off — for God 's sake , give me your blackened hand " ! ( 35 ) Pip 's abject leave-taking of Miss Havisham , during which he kneels to kiss her hand , signalizes his homage to a supposed patroness who seems to be opening up for him a new world of glamour ; when , on the journey to London that immediately follows , he pauses nostalgically to lay his hand upon the finger-post at the end of the village , the wooden pointer symbolically designates a spiritual frontier between innocence and the corruption of worldly vanity . Incidentally , one can not miss the significance of this gesture , for Dickens reintroduces it associatively in Pip 's mind at another moral and psychological crisis — his painful recognition , in a talk with Herbert Pocket , that his hopeless attachment to Estella is as self-destructive as it is romantic . In both cases the finger-post represents Pip 's heightened awareness of contrary magnetisms . A variety of hand movements helps dramatize the moral climate of the fallen world Pip encounters beyond the forge . The vulturelike attendance of the Pocket family upon Miss Havisham is summed up in the hypocritical gestures of Miss Camilla Pocket , who puts her hand to her throat in a feigned spasm of grief-stricken choking , then lays it " upon her heaving bosom " with " an unnatural fortitude of manner " , ( 11 ) and finally kisses it to Miss Havisham in a parody of the lady 's own mannerism toward Estella . Pumblechook 's hands throughout the novel serve to travesty greed and hypocritical self-aggrandizement . We first see him shaking Mrs. Joe 's hand on discovering the sizable amount of the premium paid to her husband for Pip 's indenture as an apprentice and later pumping Pip 's hands " for the hundredth time at least " ( " May I — may I- " ? ) ( 19 ) in effusive congratulation to Pip on his expectations . We take leave of Pumblechook as he gloats over Pip 's loss of fortune , extending his hand " with a magnificently forgiving air " and exhibiting " the same fat five fingers " , one of which he identifies with " the finger of Providence " and shakes at Pip in a canting imputation of the latter 's " ingratitoode " and his own generosity as Pip 's " earliest benefactor " . ( 58 ) Pip first learns " the stupendous power of money " from the sycophantic tailor , Mr. Trabb , whose brutality to his boy helper exactly matches the financial resource of each new customer , and whose fawning hands touch " the outside of each elbow " ( 19 ) and " rub " Pip out of the shop . The respectability which money confers implies a different etiquette , and , upon taking up the life of a London gentleman , Pip must learn from Herbert Pocket that " the spoon is not generally used over-hand , but under " . The following items may be specified in actual or symbolic form in the operands of those instructions which refer to the particular items : channel , unit , combined channel and unit , combined arm and file , unit record synchronizers , inquiry synchronizers , and alteration switches . The declarative operation EQU is used to equate symbolic names to item numbers ( see page 85 ) . CONTINUATION CARDS Certain Autocoder statements make provision for more parameters than may be contained in the operand ( columns 21-75 ) of a single line on the Autocoder coding sheet . When this is the case , the appropriate section of this manual will indicate that " Continuation Cards " may be used . Thus , when specifically permitted , the operand of a given line on the Autocoder coding sheet may be continued in the operand of from one to four additional lines which immediately follow . The label and operation columns must be blank and the continuation of the operand must begin in column 21 ; i.e. , it must be left-justified in the operand column of the coding sheet . The operand need not extend across the entire operand column of either the header card or continuation cards but may end with the comma following any parameter . Remarks may appear to the right of the last parameter on each card provided they are separated from the operand by at least two blank spaces . Illustration of the use of continuation cards are included throughout the examples illustrating the various statements . If a continuation card follows a statement that does not permit continuation cards , the compiler will generate a NOP and issue an error message . Additional restrictions regarding the use of continuation cards with macro-instructions appear on page 106 . RESERVATION OF INDEX WORDS AND ELECTRONIC SWITCHES The assignment of actual addresses to symbolic index word and electronic switch names occurs in Phase /3 , of the Autocoder processor . The initial availability of index words and electronic switches is determined by a table which is included in the Compiler Systems Tape . This table originally indicates that index words 1 through 96 and electronic switches 1 through 30 are available for assignment to symbolic references ; index words 97 through 99 are not available . The initial setting of this table may be altered , however , as described in the 7070/7074 Data Processing System Bulletin " IBM 7070/7074 Compiler System : Operating Procedure " , form J28-6105 . During the first pass of Phase /3 , , references to the actual addresses of index words and electronic switches are collected and the availability table is updated . At the end of this pass , the table indicates which index words and electronic switches are not available for assignment to symbolic references . Both index words and electronic switches may have been made unavailable before the start of assignment in one of the following ways : 1 . The initial setting of the availability table indicated that the index word or electronic switch was not available for assignment . 2 . The one — two-digit number of the index word or electronic switch was used in the operand of a symbolic machine instruction to specify indexing or as a parameter which is always an index word or electronic switch , e.g. , 3 . The one — or two-digit number of the index word or electronic switch was used in the operand of an EQU statement , e.g. , When the index words or electronic switches are reserved because of actual usage in the statements described above , the position or order of the statements within the program is not important ; any such reference will make the index word or electronic switch unavailable at the end of this pass . During the assignment pass of Phase /3 , , index words and electronic switches are reserved as they are encountered during assignment . Index words and electronic switches may be reserved in the following ways . The first two methods apply to both index words and electronic switches ; the third applies only to index words . 1 . During the assignment pass , each instruction is examined for reference to the symbolic name of an index word or electronic switch . When such a reference is found , an actual address is assigned and the availability table is changed so that the assigned index word or switch is no longer available for later assignment . 2 . If the one — or two-digit address of an index word or electronic switch is used or is included in the operand of an XRESERVE or SRESERVE statement ( see page 99 ) , the corresponding index word or electronic switch is reserved . 3 . If a statement has been assigned an address in the index word area A. by means of an actual label or B. by means of an ORIGIN statement which refers to an actual address the corresponding index word will be reserved . These entries should normally appear at the beginning of the program or immediately following each LITORIGIN statement . Otherwise , symbolic names may have previously been assigned to these same index words . ( This method does not apply to electronic switches . ) The preceding methods allow efficient use of index words and electronic switches during a sectionalized or multi-phase program , particularly when used in conjunction with the LITORIGIN statement . Extreme caution should be used , however , to avoid the conflicting usage of an index word or electronic switch which may result from the assignment of more than one name or function to the same address . If the symbolic name or actual address of an index word or electronic switch appears or is included in the operand of an XRELEASE or SRELEASE statement ( see page 101 ) , the specified index word or electronic switch will again be made available , regardless of the method by which it was reserved . It will not , however , be used for symbolic assignment until all other index words or electronic switches have been assigned for the first time . If , at any time during the assignment pass , the compiler finds that there are no more index words available for assignment , the warning message " NO MORE INDEX WORDS AVAILABLE " will be placed in the object program listing , the table will be altered to show that index words 1 through 96 are available , and the assignment will continue as before . If the compiler finds that there are no more electronic switches available for assignment , the warning message " NO MORE ELECTRONIC SWITCHES AVAILABLE " will be placed in the object program listing , the table will be altered to show that electronic switches 1 through 30 are available , and assignment will continue as before . The resultant conflicting usage of index words or electronic switches may be avoided by reducing the number of symbolic names used , e.g. , through the proper use of the EQU , XRELEASE , or SRELEASE statements . As noted in Appendix C , index words 97 through 99 are never available for assignment to symbolic names by the compiler ; also , index words 93 through 96 may have been made unavailable for assignment . DECLARATIVE STATEMENTS Autocoder declarative statements provide the processor with the necessary information to complete the imperative operations properly . Declarative statements are never executed in the object program and should be separated from the program instruction area , placed preferably at its beginning or end . Otherwise , special care must be taken to branch around them so that the program will not attempt to execute something in a data area as an instruction . If the compiler does encounter such statements , a warning message will be issued . 7070/7074 Autocoder includes the following declarative statements : DA ( Define Area ) , DC ( Define Constant ) , DRDW ( Define Record Definition Word ) , DSW ( Define Switch ) , DLINE ( Define Line ) , EQU ( Equate ) , CODE , DTF ( Define Tape File ) , DIOCS ( Define Input/Output Control System ) , and DUF ( Descriptive Entry for Unit Records ) . DA , DC , DTF , and DLINE require more than one entry . The DA statement is used to name and define the positions and length of fields within an area . The DC statement is used to name and enter constants into the object program . Since the 7070 and 7074 make use of record definition words ( RDWS ) to read , write , move , and otherwise examine blocks of storage , the DA and DC statements provide the option of generating RDWS automatically . When so instructed , Autocoder will generate one or more RDWS and assign them successive locations immediately preceding the area(s) with which they are to be associated . An RDW will be of the form **f , where xxxx is the starting location of the area and yyyy is its ending location . These addresses are calculated automatically by the processor . In some cases , it may be more advantageous to assign locations to RDWS associated with DA and DC areas in some other part of storage , i.e. , not immediately preceding the DA or DC areas . The DRDW statement may be used for this purpose . The DRDW statement may also be used to generate an RDW defining any area specified by the programmer . As many as ten digital switches may be named and provided by the DSW statement for consideration by the SETSW and LOGIC macro-instructions . Each switch occupies one digit position in a word , can be set ON or OFF , and is considered as logically equivalent to an electronic switch . It can not , however , be referred to by electronic switch commands , e.g. , ESN , BSN , etc . An individual switch or the entire set of switches in a word may be tested or altered as desired . Through use of the DLINE statement , a means is provided for specifying both the editing of fields to be inserted in a print line area and the layout of the area itself . The area may include constant information supplied by the programmer . The area may also be provided with additional data during the running of the object program by means of EDMOV or MOVE macro-instructions . The declarative statement EQU permits the programmer to equate symbolic names to actual index words , electronic switches , arm and file numbers , tape channel and unit numbers , alteration switches , etc. , and to equate a symbol to another symbol or to an actual address . The DIOCS , DTF , and DUF statements are used when required by the Input/Output Control System . DIOCS is used to select the major methods of processing to be used , and to name the index words used by IOCS . Each tape file must be described by Tape File Specifications , produced by DTFS . In addition to information related to the file and its records , the File Specifications contain subroutine locations and the location of tape label information . A DUF entry must be supplied for every unit record file describing the type of file and the unit record equipment to be used . The DUF also supplies the locations of subroutines written by the user that are unique to the file . A full description of the DIOCS , DTF , and DUF statements is contained in the 7070 Data Processing system Bulletin " IBM 7070 Input/Output Control System " , form J28-6033-1 . Brief descriptions of these three declarative statements and detailed descriptions of the formats and functions of each of the other 7070/7074 Autocoder declarative statements follow below . DIOCS — DEFINE INPUT/OUTPUT CONTROL SYSTEM When the Input/Output Control System is to be used in a program , a DIOCS statement must be used to select the major methods of processing to be used . This statement also allows the naming of the index words used by IOCS . SOURCE PROGRAM FORMAT The basic format of the DIOCS statement is as follows : ANYLABEL is any symbolic label ; it may be omitted . The entry DIOCS must be written exactly as shown . The first item in the operand , IOCSIXF , is used to specify the first IOCS index word for programs using tape files . This item may be a symbolic name or an actual one-digit or two-digit index word address in the range 3-94 . If the first item in the operand is omitted , the symbolic name IOCSIXF will be assigned . When an actual index word or a symbolic address is specified , Autocoder will equate the name IOCSIXF to it . The second item in the operand , IOCSIXG , is used to specify the second IOCS index word for programs using tape files . This item may be a symbolic name or an actual one-digit or two-digit index word address in the range 3-94 . If the second item in the operand is omitted , the symbolic name IOCSIXG will be assigned . When an actual index word or a symbolic address is specified , Autocoder will equate IOCSIXG to it . In the midwest , oxidation ponds are used extensively for the treatment of domestic sewage from suburban areas . The high cost of land and a few operational problems resulting from excessive loadings have created the need for a wastewater treatment system with the operational characteristics of the oxidation pond but with the ability to treat more organic matter per unit volume . Research at Fayette , Missouri on oxidation ponds has shown that the BOD in the treated effluent varied from 30 to 53 mg/l with loadings from 8 to 120 lb BOD/day/acre . Since experience indicates that effluents from oxidation ponds do not create major problems at these BOD concentrations , the goal for the effluent quality of the accelerated treatment system was the same as from conventional oxidation ponds . Recent studies by Weston and Stack had indicated that a turbine aerator could be added to an oxidation pond to increase the rate of oxygen transfer . Their study showed that it was possible to transfer 3 to 4 lb of oxygen/hr/hp . O'Connor and Eckenfelder discussed the use of aerated lagoons for treating organic wastes . They indicated that a 4-day retention , aerated lagoon would give 60 to 76 per cent BOD reduction . Later , Eckenfelder increased the efficiency of treatment to between 75 and 85 per cent in the summer months . It appeared from the limited information available that the aerated lagoon might offer a satisfactory means of increasing the capacity of existing oxidation ponds as well as providing the same degree of treatment in a smaller volume . RED BRIDGE SUBDIVISION With the development of the Red Bridge Subdivision south of Kansas City , Missouri , the developer was faced with the problem of providing adequate sewage disposal . The sewage system from Kansas City was not expected to serve the Red Bridge area for several years . This necessitated the construction of temporary sewage treatment facilities with an expected life from 5 to 15 yr . For the initial development an oxidation pond was constructed as shown in Figure 1 . The oxidation pond has a surface area of 4.77 acres and a depth of 4 ft . The pond is currently serving 1,230 persons or 260 persons per acre . In the summer of 1960 the oxidation pond became completely septic and emitted obnoxious odors . It was possible to maintain aerobic conditions in the pond by regular additions of sodium nitrate until the temperature decreased and the algae population changed from blue-green to green algae . The anaerobic conditions in the existing oxidation pond necessitated examination of other methods for supplying additional oxygen than by sodium nitrate . At the same time further expansion in the Red Bridge Subdivision required the construction of additional sewage treatment facilities . The large land areas required for oxidation ponds made this type of treatment financially unattractive to the developer . It was proposed that aerated lagoons be used to eliminate the problem at the existing oxidation ponds and to provide the necessary treatment for the additional development . PILOT LAGOON The lack of adequate data on the aerated lagoon system prompted the developer to construct an aerated lagoon pilot plant to determine its feasibility for treating domestic sewage . The pilot plant was a circular lagoon 81 ft in diam at the surface and 65 ft in diam at the bottom , 4 ft below the surface , with a volume of 121,000 gal . The side slopes were coated with fiberglas matting coated with asphalt to prevent erosion . The pilot lagoon was located as shown in Figure 1 to serve the area just south of the existing housing area . The major contributor was a shopping center with houses being added to the system as the subdivision developed . The pilot lagoon was designed to handle the wastes from 314 persons with a 4-day aeration period . Initially , the wastewater would be entirely from the shopping center with the domestic sewage from the houses increasing over an 18-month period . This operation would permit evaluation of the pilot plant , with a slowly increasing load , over a reasonable period of time . The pilot plant was equipped with a 3-hp turbine aerator ( Figure 2 ) . The aerator had a variable-speed drive to permit operation through a range of speeds . The sewage flow into the treatment plant was metered and continuously recorded on 24-hr charts . The raw sewage was introduced directly under the turbine aerator to insure maximum mixing of the raw sewage with the aeration tank contents . The effluent was collected through two pipes and discharged to the Blue River through a surface drainage ditch . ANALYSES Composite samples were collected at weekly intervals . The long retention period and the complete mixing concept prevented rapid changes in either the mixed liquor or in the effluent . Weekly samples would make any changes more readily discernible than daily samples . The composite samples were normally collected over a 6-hr period , but an occasional 24-hr composite was made . Examination of the operations of the shopping center permitted correlation of the 6-hr composite samples with 24-hr operations . The data indicated that the organic load during the 6-hr composites was essentially 50 per cent of the 24-hr organic load . Grab samples were collected from the existing oxidation pond to determine its operating conditions . Efforts were made to take the grab samples at random periods so that the mass of data could be treated as a 6-hr composite sample . A single 24-hr composite sample indicated that the sewage flow pattern and characteristics were typical . PILOT PLANT OPERATIONS The BOD of the influent to the pilot plant varied between 110 and 710 mg/l with an average of 350 mg/l . This was equivalent to 240 mg/lBOD on a 24-hr basis . The BOD of the raw sewage was typical of domestic sewage from a subdivision . The BOD in the effluent averaged 58 mg/l , a 76-per cent reduction over the 24-hr period . Examination of the data in Table /1 , shows that a few samples contributed to raising the effluent BOD . The periods of high effluent BOD occurred during cold periods when operational problems with the aerator resulted . Ice caused the aerator to overload , straining the drive belts . The slippage of the drive belts caused the aerator to slow down and reduce oxygen transfer as well as the mixing of the raw sewage . The organic loading on the unit averaged 32 lb of BOD/day or about 2 lb BOD/day/1,000 cu ft aeration capacity . Needless to say , the organic load was very low on a volumetric basis , but was 270 lb BOD/day/acre on a surface loading basis . It seems that the aerated lagoon was a very heavily loaded oxidation pond or a lightly loaded activated sludge system . The flow rate remained relatively constant during the winter months as shown in Table /1 , . With the spring rains the flow rose rapidly due to infiltration in open sewers . As construction progresses , the volume of storm drainage will be sharply reduced . The retention period in the aerated lagoon ranged from 9.8 to 2.6 days , averaging 6.4 days . The large amount of vegetable grindings from the grocery store in the shopping center created a suspended solids problem . The vegetables were not readily metabolized by the bacteria in the aeration unit and tended to float on the surface . A skimming device at the effluent weir prevented loss of most of these light solids . The average volatile suspended solids in the effluent was 75 mg/l while MLSS averaged 170 mg/l volatile suspended solids . The average sludge age based on displacement of solids was calculated to be 14.5 days . The oxygen uptake rate in the mixed liquor averaged 0.8 mg/l/hr during the first four months of this study . Variations in aerator speeds during the latter two months of this study caused increased mixing and increased oxygen demand . The increase in oxygen uptake rates from 1.2 to 2.6 mg/l/hr which followed an increase in rotor speed was believed to be related to resuspension of solids which had settled at the lower rotor speeds . It appeared that most of the mixed liquor suspended solids were active microbial solids with the heavier , less active solids settling out . The suspended solids discharged in the effluent were found to be the major source of the BOD . Removal of the suspended solids by a membrane filter yielded an average effluent containing only 20 mg/l BOD . The BOD in the drainage ditch receiving the pilot plant effluent averaged 12 mg/l . This low BOD was due to removal of the excess suspended solids by sedimentation since the only dilution was surface runoff which was very low during this study . MICROSCOPIC EXAMINATION Routine microscopic examinations were made of the mixed liquor as indicated by McKinney and Gram for the various types of protozoa . It was found that the aerated lagoon was an activated sludge system rather than an oxidation pond . At no time were algae found in the mixed liquor . The bacteria formed typical activated sludge floc . The floc particles were all small as the heavier floc settled out . Initially , the flagellated protozoa predominated , but they soon gave way to the free swimming ciliated protozoa . As the temperature decreased , the number of free swimming ciliated protozoa decreased . Very little protozoa activity existed below 40°F . When the temperature reached 32°F all protozoan activity ceased ; but as the temperature rose , the numbers of protozoa increased rapidly . Only once were stalked ciliates found in the mixed liquor . The predomination of free swimming ciliated protozoa is indicative of a high bacterial population . OXYGEN TRANSFER One of the important aspects of this study was to determine the oxygen transfer relationships of the mechanical aerator . Routine determinations were made for dissolved oxygen in the mixed liquor and for oxygen uptake rates . The data given in Table /2 , show the routine operation of the aerator . The dissolved oxygen in the aeration unit was consistently high until January 29 , 1961 . An extended cold spell caused ice to build up on the aerator which was mounted on a floating platform and caused the entire platform to sink lower in the water . The added resistance to the rotor damaged the drive belts and reduced the oxygen transfer capacity . It was approximately one month before the belt problem was noticed and corrected , but at no time was there a deficiency of dissolved oxygen . A series of eight special tests were conducted at different rotor speeds to determine the oxygen transfer rate . Five of the tests were conducted with a polyethylene cover to simulate an ice cover . The rate of oxygen transfer at 1.0-mg/l dissolved oxygen concentration and 10°C for various rotor speeds is given in Table /3 , . The maximum rate of oxygen transfer at 1.0 mg/l dissolved oxygen was calculated as 220 lb/day at a maximum rate of 9.3 mg/l/hr . The actual power requirements indicated 2lb oxygen transfer/hr/hp . The polyethylene cover reduced the oxygen transfer rate by 10 per cent , indicating that the maximum oxygen transfer is at the rotor rather than through the surface . OXIDATION POND During this study septic conditions developed in the oxidation pond in the spring when the ice melted . Shortly after this study ended septic conditions resulted which required the addition of sodium nitrate . The location of the oxidation pond in a high-value residential area makes odor nuisances a sensitive problem for the developer . The organic concentration in the influent raw sewage ranged from 160 to 270 mg/l of BOD with an average of 230 mg/l . The BOD data are given in Table /4 , . A single 24-hr composite sample had a BOD of 260 mg/l , indicating a typical domestic sewage . The daily sewage volume to the oxidation pond averaged 147,000 gpd , giving a retention period of 42 days . The organic loading on the pond was slightly under 60lbBOD/day/acre . The effluent BOD averaged 34 mg/l , a little lower than that of the study at Fayette indicated for a loading of 60lb BOD/day/acre . The BOD of the effluent ranged from a minimum of 13 to a maximum of 47mg/l . Microscopic examination of the effluent showed that minimum BOD occurred when the algae began to decrease with cold weather . When the algae began to build up again , the effluent BOD rose . During the two weeks when the algae disappeared from the effluent BOD 's in the effluent were 18 and 16 mg/l . Thus , the three main categories of antisubmarine warfare operations are defense of shipping , defense of naval forces , and area defense . The last category overlaps the others in amphibious operations and near terminals and bases . To effect these operations , five elements exist ( 1 ) surface , ( 2 ) air , ( 3 ) mines , ( 4 ) submarine , and ( 5 ) fixed installations . Surface forces have been used to provide defense zones around naval and merchant ship formations , air to furnish area surveillance , and mines for protection of limited areas . Submarines and shore installations are new elements . The submarine now has a definite place in submarine defense particularly in denying enemy access to ocean areas . Fixed installations offer possibilities for area detection . Mine warfare is being reoriented against submarine targets . A sixth element , not always considered , is intelligence . It includes operational intelligence of the enemy and knowledge of the environment . Operational intelligence presumably will be available from our national intelligence agencies ; intelligence on the environment will come from the recently augmented program in oceanography . The major postwar development is the certainty that these elements should not be considered singly but in combination and as being mutually supporting . NECESSITY FOR AN OVER-ALL CONCEPT Thinking on submarine defense has not always been clear-cut . Proponents of single elements tend to ensure predominance of that element without determining if it is justified , and the element with the most enthusiastic and vociferous proponents has assumed the greatest importance . Consequently , air , surface , and submarine elements overshadow the mine , fixed installations , and intelligence . These have sought more and more of what they have . Each seems to strive for elimination of the necessity for the others . This , despite postwar experience demonstrating that all elements are necessarily mutually supporting . Thus , the most productive areas are not necessarily the most stressed . This is stated to emphasize the necessity for an over-all concept of submarine defense , one which would provide positions of relative importance to ASW elements based on projected potentialities . Then the enthusiasm and energy of all elements can be channeled to produce cumulative progress toward a common objective . An over-all concept would have other advantages . It would allow presentation to the public of a unified approach . Now the problem is presented piecemeal and sometimes contradictorily . While one element is announcing progress , another is delineating its problems . The result can only be confusion in the public mind . A unified concept can serve as a guide to budgeting and , if public support is gained , will command Congressional support . Industry 's main criticism of the Navy 's antisubmarine effort is that it can not determine where any one company or industry can apply its skills and know-how . Lacking guidance , industry picks its own areas . The result , coupled with the salesmanship for which American industry is famous , is considerable expenditure of funds and efforts in marginal areas . An over-all concept will guide industry where available talents and facilities will yield greatest dividends . Therefore , a broad concept of over-all submarine defense is needed for co-ordination of the Navy 's efforts , for a logical presentation to the public , for industry 's guidance , and as a basis for a program to the Congress . PRINCIPLES INVOLVED IN AN OVER-ALL CONCEPT That which follows will be a discussion of principles and possible content for an over-all concept of antisubmarine warfare . Russia possesses the preponderance of submarines in the world , divided between her various fleets . Some are also in Albania and others are on loan to Egypt . Other countries which may willingly or unwillingly become Communist can furnish bases . Communist target areas can be assumed , but there is no certainty that such assumptions coincide with Soviet intentions . Attack can come from almost any direction against many locations . Logically , then , the first principle of the plan must be that it is not rigidly oriented toward any geographical area . It is often stated that the submarine can be destroyed while building , at bases , in transit , and on station . Destruction of the enemy 's building and base complex , however , requires attacks on enemy territory , which is possible only in event of all-out hostilities . In transit or on station , it may not be possible to attack the submarines until commission of an overt act . The Communists are adept at utilizing hostilities short of general war and will do so whenever it is to their advantage . Therefore the second principle of the plan must be that , while providing for all-out hostilities , its effectiveness is not dependent on general war . Antisubmarine warfare does not involve clashes between large opposing forces , with the decision a result of a single battle . It is a war of attrition , of single actions , of an exchange of losses . This exchange must result in our ending up with some effective units . Initially , having fewer units of some elements — especially submarines — than the opponent , our capabilities need to be sufficiently greater than theirs , so that the exchange will be in our favor . Therefore , the third principle of the plan must be that it does not depend for effectiveness on engagement by the same types , unless at an assured favorable exchange rate . The submarine has increased its effectiveness by several orders of magnitude since World War /2 , . Its speed has increased , it operates at increasingly greater depths , its submerged endurance is becoming unlimited , and it will become even more silent . The next developments will probably be in weaponry . The missile can gradually be expected to replace the torpedo . As detection ranges increase , weapons will be developed to attack other submarines and surface craft at these ranges . Therefore , the fourth principle of the plan must be that it provide for continuously increasing capabilities in the opponent . No element can accomplish the total objective of submarine defense . Some elements support the others , but all have limitations . Some limitations of one element can be compensated for by a capability of another . Elements used in combination will increase the over-all capability more than the sum of the capabilities of the individual elements . Therefore , the plan 's fifth principle must be that it capitalize on the capabilities of all elements in combination . Conceivably the submarine defense problem can be solved by sufficient forces . Numbers would be astronomical and current fiscal policies make this an impractical solution . Shipbuilding , aircraft procurement , and weapon programs indicate that there will not be enough of anything . Therefore , any measures taken in peacetime which will decrease force requirements in war will contribute greatly to success when hostilities occur . Therefore , the sixth principle of the plan must be that it concentrate on current measures which will reduce future force requirements . The world is constantly changing ; what was new yesterday is obsolescent today . The seventh principle of the plan is self-evident ; it must be flexible enough to allow for technological breakthroughs , scientific progress , and changes in world conditions . SUPPORTING ELEMENTS IN ASW OPERATIONS To this point the need for an over-all plan for submarine defense has been demonstrated , the mission has been stated , broad principles delineating its content laid down , and the supporting elements listed . Before considering these elements in more detail , an additional requirement should be stated . Large area coverage will accomplish all other tasks . Therefore , because reduction in tasks results in reduction of forces required , the plan should provide for expanding area coverage . But it must be remembered that the plan should not be oriented geographically . Consequently , the system giving area coverage ( if such coverage is less than world wide ) must be flexible and hence at least partially mobile . Since effective area coverage appears fairly remote , the requirement can be borne in mind while considering the elements : air , surface , sub-surface , fixed installations , mines , and intelligence . These are arranged approximately in the order of the vociferousness of their proponents but will be discussed in the reverse order in the hope that the true order of importance will result . Intelligence , as used herein , will include information on possible opponents and on the environment which can affect operations . These can be referred to as operational intelligence and environmental intelligence . In submarine defense these must have maximum stress . Good operational intelligence can ensure sound planning , greatly reduce force requirements , and increase tactical effectiveness . Environmental intelligence is just as important . The ocean presently co-operates with the target . Full knowledge of the science of oceanography can bring the environment to our side , resulting in an increase in effectiveness of equipment and tactics , a decrease in enemy capabilities , and the development of methods of capitalizing on the environment . Therefore , improved intelligence will result in reduced force requirements and , as it supports all other elements , rates a top priority . Gathering intelligence is important , but of equal importance is its translation into usable form . A program is needed to translate the results of oceanographic research into tactical and operating instructions . Approaching this problem on a statistical basis is invalid , because the opponent has the same sources available and will be encountered not under average conditions , but under the conditions most advantageous to him . Therefore , the on-the-scene commander must have detailed operating instructions based on measurement of conditions , in the area , at the time of encounter . All capabilities must be used to maximum advantage then . Temperature , wind , oxygen content , depth , bottom character , and animal life are the chief environmental variables . There may be others . Variations in sound velocity should be measured rather than temperature , because more of the variables would be encompassed . These variations must eventually be measured horizontally as well as vertically . Progress in predicting water conditions is encouraging , but little guidance is available to the man at sea on the use of such information . A concurrent effort is needed to make oceanographic data useful on the spot . Mine warfare has in the past been directed against surface targets . By its nature it has always been of great psychological advantage and small efforts have required considerably greater counter-efforts . Mines are being increasingly oriented against submarine targets . They are still considered to be for use in restricted waters , however , and targets must come within a few yards of them . Mines need to be recognized as a major element in anti-submarine warfare employment , extended to deep water , and have their effective area per unit increased . Mines can be used to deny access to great areas ; they are difficult to counter , cost little to maintain until required , and can be put into place quickly . A most attractive feature is that detection and attack are combined in a single package . Effective employment will reduce force requirements . For example , effective mine barriers from Florida to Cuba and across the Yucatan Channel from Cuba to Mexico would remove all requirements for harbor defense , inshore patrol , convoy escort , shipping control , and mine defense for the entire Gulf of Mexico . More extended systems , covering all passage into the Caribbean , would free the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico from the previously listed requirements . Systems covering the Gulf of St. Lawrence and possibly the entire coasts of the United States are not impossible . Such mine defense systems could permit concentration of mobile forces in the open oceans with consequent increase in the probability of success . The advantages inherent in mine warfare justify as great an importance for this element as is accorded any of the other elements . Fixed installations are increasingly advocated as the problem of area defense emerges . The proponents are scientific and technical men who exercise considerable influence on their military counterparts . Systems which detect submarines over wide areas are attractive , although they can be only " burglar alarms " . Mobile forces are required to localize and attack detected targets , since the systems are not capable of pinpointing a target . Such systems are expensive and are oriented geographically . In an over-all ASW concept , dependence on and effort expended for such systems should be limited to those with proven capabilities . No general installation should be made until a model installation has been proved and its maximum capability determined . In addition , proposals for fixed installations should be carefully weighed against a counterpart mobile system . For fixed installations will always lack the flexibility that should be inherent in naval systems . The submarine has become increasingly attractive as an antisubmarine weapon system . It operates in its target 's environment , and any advantage gained therefrom by the target is shared by the attacker . But the submarine is a weapon of ambush and therefore always in danger of being ambushed . Two metabolites ( /1 , and /2 , ) of p-aminobenzoic acid ( PABA ) which act as cofactors for the hydroxylation of aniline by acid-fast bacteria are biosynthesized from PABA . The 7 carbons of PABA are incorporated directly into metabolite /2 , ( as shown with both ring-labeled and carboxy-labeled **f ) . Thirty-five of the 36 carbon atoms arise from PABA . All 28 carbons of metabolite /1 , ( a product of mild acid hydrolysis of /2 , ) arise from PABA . Metabolite /1 , isolated from the medium , however , showed a lower specific activity , which indicates endogenous synthesis of this metabolite . Vigorous acid hydrolysis of metabolite /1 , destroyed the biological activity of the compound and liberated two aryl amines . Fragment A has been obtained in crystalline form as a dioxalate salt and free base . Preliminary evidence tentatively indicates that the molecule ( metabolite /1 , ) is cleaved at a secondary amide bond . ( N. H. Sloane ; chemical studies are being pursued with the cooperation of K.G. Untch . ) STUDIES ON ESTERASES - Research on esterases in mammalian sera was continued . One of the most interesting findings was the extreme sensitivity of plasma arylesterases to rare earth ions . The inhibition of the enzyme by very low concentrations of lanthanum ion is probably the strongest known biological effect of rare earth salts . Various metal ions have been found to protect plasma arylesterase against inactivation by urea and guanidine . The effects can be related to the structure of this -SH enzyme . The non-identity of serum and red blood cell arylesterase was also established . Furthermore , the hydrolysis of paraoxon was studied in mammalian sera , and it was found that it is hydrolyzed by albumin ( or a factor attached to it ) in addition to arylesterase . Selective inhibitors can distinguish the two activities . Investigations on the acceleration of human plasma cholinesterase were carried further . ( E. G. Erd.ouml ; s , L. E. Boggs , C. D. Mackey ) BIOPHYSICAL STUDIES ON MODIFIED FIBROUS PROTEINS - Electron-microscopical and physical-chemical methods were used to demonstrate the renaturation of heat-denatured collagen and ribonucleic acid . ( R. V. Rice ) A method was devised for extracting and purifying soluble earthworm collagen ( EWC ) . It was observed that EWC macromolecules are the same diameter ( 15A ) but much longer ( up to several microns ) than vertebrate tropocollagen . This unusual collagen also was shown to undergo a reversible thermal phase transformation . ( R. V. Rice , M. D. Maser ) STUDIES ON PEPTIDES AND PEPTIDASES - This investigation involved several aspects . Substance Z , an active urinary peptide , was purified by extraction in organic solvents and repeated column chromatography ; high-voltage electrophoresis and paper chromatography were used in preliminary structural studies ; pharmacological effects in vitro on isolated surviving organs and in vivo on blood pressure were assayed ; special equipment required for registering respiration and for recording the contraction of smooth muscles under various conditions was developed by the Instruments Section ( Victor Jackman , W. C. Barnes , J. F. Reiss ) ; and enzymes which terminate the action of peptides such as bradykinin and perhaps Substance Z were studied . Experiments are in progress to develop ultraviolet spectrophotometric techniques for assaying these enzymes and for studying their sensitivity to metal ions . ( E. G. Erd.ouml ; s , C. D. Mackey , A. G. Renfrew , W. B. Severs , E. M. Sloane ) SEED PROTEINS - In a physiochemical study of seed proteins , the globulins of the Brazil nut have been investigated . In addition to the known principal globulin , excelsin , three other ultracentrifugally distinct components have been observed . A water-soluble protein of quite low molecular weight ( ca. 10,000 ) has also been found in this system and partly characterized . ( E. F. Casassa , H. J. Notarius ) CONTINUUM MECHANICS AND VISCOELASTICITY THEORY OF NON-NEWTONIAN FLUIDS - On the basis of a differentiability assumption in function space , it is possible to prove that , for materials having the property that the stress is given by a functional of the history of the deformation gradients , the classical theory of infinitesimal viscoelasticity is valid when the deformation has been infinitesimal for all times in the past . By strengthening the differentiability assumption , it has been possible to derive second and higher order theories of viscoelasticity . In the second-order theory , one of the normal stress differences can be calculated from the first-order stress relaxation function . ( B. D. Coleman with Walter Noll , Department of Mathematics , Carnegie Institute of Technology ) VISCOELASTIC MEASUREMENTS - An extensive series of measurements was made on a high-density polyethylene in a torsion pendulum instrument using forced sinusoidal oscillation , free vibration , and creep measurements over the temperature range of **f to 80°C . As many as seven decades of the time scale were thus covered isothermally . The simple time-temperature equivalence valid for many amorphous systems did not hold here . It was possible , however , to decompose the compliance into a sum of a frequency-independent component and two viscoelastic mechanisms , each compatible with the Boltzmann superposition principle and with a consistent set of time-temperature equivalence factors . ( Hershel Markovitz , D.J . Plazek , Haruo Nakayasu ) GEOCHEMISTRY TRACE ELEMENTS IN TEKTITES , METEORITES , AND RELATED MATERIALS - The results of microanalysis of tektites ( natural glasses of unknown origin ) for gallium and germanium have shown that these glasses are probably produced from terrestrial ( or less likely from lunar ) matter by impact of a celestial body . The gallium/germanium ratio is higher than that for ordinary igneous , metamorphic , or sedimentary matter as a result of selective volatilization of the components of the tektite . Gallium oxide is less volatile than silica ( the main constituent of tektites ) and germanium oxide is more volatile . Australites ( tektites from Australia ) give the appearance of a second melting . In conformity with this conclusion a higher trace gallium content was found in the portion ( flange ) that has undergone a second melting . The silicate fractions of stony meteorites show gallium/germanium ratios similar to those of tektites because they too have undergone melting at some point in their histories . Libyan Desert silica-glass , another natural glass , is composed of nearly pure silica and has the same trace germanium content as sands in the area . The gallium content , however , has been enhanced five-fold . This glass is probably formed from Libyan Desert sands by comet or stony-meteorite impact . Nickel-iron meteorites with sufficient kinetic energy to produce large terrestrial-explosion craters may nevertheless melt only small quantities of material . Most of the impact energy is spent in crushing and fragmentation . When rapid quenching follows melting , impact glasses may result . These always contain metallic inclusions . Impact glasses not containing elemental nickel-iron may have been produced by stony meteorites or comets . No meteorites have ever been recovered from paleoexplosion craters , and recent craters containing impact glass have all been produced by metallic meteorites with the exception of Aouelloul crater , Adrar , Western Sahara Desert . This crater contains impact glass with no metallic inclusions and no meteoritic material has been recovered . ( A. J. Cohen , John Anania ) INORGANIC CHEMISTRY Preparation of a coordination compound is often accomplished by the simple method of reacting a metal salt with a ligand in a suitable solvent such as an alcohol . By applying this general principle , a great number of complex compounds of osmium , ruthenium , iridium , and rhenium , with triphenylphosphine , triphenylarsine , and triphenylstibine have been obtained in this laboratory during the past few years . ( Lauri Vaska , E. M. Sloane , J. W. DiLuzio ) In the absence of direct evidence to the contrary , decomposition of solvent alcohol and coordination of its fragments to the metal were not considered , following the above heretofore-accepted assumption in preparative coordination chemistry . Recent work with radiocarbon and deuterated alcohols as solvents , however , has given evidence that metal-hydrido and -carbonyl complexes may be readily formed by reaction with alcohol in some of these systems . Some of the previously reported compounds have thus been reformulated and a series of new hydrido and carbonyl compounds discovered , the more representative examples being **f , **f , **f , **f and **f ( **f ) . The coordination complexes formed by transition metals with primary and secondary phosphines and arsines are being investigated ( R. G. Hayter ) . Particular interest is directed towards the condensation of these ligands with metal halides to form substituted phosphide or arside complexes . During the past year , these ligands have yielded some unusual five-coordinate complexes of nickel ( /2 , ) and some interesting binuclear phosphorus-bridged complexes of palladium ( /2 , ) ( see figure ) , as well as new compounds of the well-known type **f . The structures , properties , and reactions of these compounds are being studied . In another study chromium-substituted aluminum oxyhydroxides and related species , prepared homogeneously by high-temperature hydrolysis , are being characterized and investigated spectrally in the ultraviolet region with a view to identification and semiquantitative estimation of the phases formed under varying preparative conditions . ( J. A. Laswick , N. L. Heatwole ) STRUCTURE AND PROPERTIES OF MACROMOLECULES ELASTICITY OF MACROMOLECULAR NETWORKS - The theory of elasticity of Gaussian networks has been developed on a more general basis and the equations of state relating variables of pressure , volume , temperature , stress and strain have been precisely formulated . Simple elongation has been treated in detail . The various stress-temperature coefficients for constancy of volume and strain , constancy of pressure and strain , and constancy of pressure and length have been interrelated . The dilation accompanying elongation and the simultaneously developed anisotropy of compressibility have been related to the elongation . In continuation of these theoretical studies , a more precise elucidation of the effects of imperfections in network structure is sought . ( P. J. Flory , C. A. J. Hoeve ) CHAIN CONFORMATIONS OF POLYMERIC CHAINS - Recent theoretical work to calculate the dimensions of polymeric chains by Volkenstein and Lifson has been extended to include more general types of chains . The mean-square end-to-end distance of the polyisobutylene chain has been calculated in reasonable agreement with values deduced from viscosity data . These studies are being extended to different polymers to increase our knowledge about the hindrances to rotation around chain bonds . ( C. A. J. Hoeve , A. A. Blumberg ) CRYSTALLIZATION IN POLYMERS AND COPOLYMERS - The crystallization of copolymers comprising **f units interspersed with a minor percentage of **f is limited by the inability of the crystal lattice characteristic of the former to accommodate the bulky side group of the latter . Only uninterrupted sequences of the former are eligible for formation of crystallites . Limitations on the lengths of these sequences diminish the stability of the comparatively short crystallites which can be formed , and this is reflected in a broadening of the melting range . ( Robert Chiang , J. B. Jackson , P. J. Flory ) Carefully executed melting studies on this system ( M. J. Richardson ) permit quantitative estimation of the instability engendered by reduced crystallite length . The complex morphology of polycrystalline homopolymers is necessarily dependent on the same factor . Hence , the present studies offer a possible basis for interpretations in the latter field . CONTRACTION OF MUSCLE - Glycerinated muscle , in the presence of the physiological agent . ( ATP ) responsible for delivering energy to the mechanochemically active proteins of muscle , has been shown to undergo a contraction which is highly sensitive both to temperature and to solvent composition in mixtures of alcohols and water . Experiments carried out over long periods of time in order to allow establishment of a steady state have shown that the onset of contraction and its completion are confined to an interval of several degrees Centigrade and to a concentration range of only several per cent . The contraction therefore partakes of the character of a phase transition . While ATP appears to be necessary for the occurrence of contraction , its presence and enzymatic hydrolysis of it by the muscle protein myosin are not the only criteria for contraction . ( C. A. J. Hoeve , P. J. Flory ) ANIONIC POLYMERIZATION - One of the principal aims of anionic polymerization techniques is the synthesis of polymers of extremely narrow molecular weight distribution . A simple process for the preparation of nearly monodisperse polystyrene of predictable molecular weight has been developed . The preparation of such products is not new , but the systems heretofore employed in polymerizations have commanded considerable experimental skill and starting materials of a high purity . In the new process impurities present in the solvent ( benzene ) , the monomer , and in the reaction system which would cause deactivation of propagation centers , are rendered inactive prior to polymerization by gradual addition of initiator , a mixture of butyl-lithium and telomeric styryl-lithium , at a temperature low enough to suppress chain growth . Upon completion of the purging step , additional initiator appropriate for the molecular weight of the sample desired is added , and the system is then warmed to the polymerization temperature , at which the reaction is allowed to go to completion . The predictability of the molecular weights was found to be within 10% for the polymers prepared , with **f ratios less than 1.1 . Contrary to observations with ethers , no apparent change of the reactivity of the chain ends takes place over considerable periods of time in benzene as solvent . ORGANIZATION : In this publication measurements of interfacial angles of crystals are used to classify and identify chemical substances . T. V. Barker , who developed the classification-angle system , was about to begin the systematic compilation of the index when he died in 1931 . The compilation work was undertaken by a number of interested crystallographers in the Department of Mineralogy of the University Museum at Oxford . Since 1948 the working headquarters has been the Department of Geology and Mineralogy . Numerous cooperating individuals in Great Britain , Holland , the United States , and Belgium have contributed editorially or by making calculations . Great interest and practical help have been given by the Barker Index Committee . Financial and material help have come from academic , governmental , and industrial organizations in England and Holland . Editors for Volumes /1 , and /2 , were M. W. Porter and the late R. C. Spiller , both of Oxford University . A third volume remains to be published . SUBSTANCES : Volume /1 , deals with 2991 compounds belonging to the tetragonal , hexagonal and trigonal , and orthorhombic systems ; and Volume /2 , , with about 3500 monoclinic substances . Volume /3 , , in preparation , will treat the anorthic compounds described in Groth 's CHEMISCHE KRYSTALLOGRAPHIE . PROPERTIES : The Barker system is based on the use of the smallest number of interfacial angles necessary for indexing purposes . Other morphological , physical , and optical property values are also given . SOURCES OF DATA : The index is essentially a new treatment of previously compiled morphological data . Most of the data used are from Groth 's CHEMISCHE KRYSTALLOGRAPHIE . CRITICALITY : Every calculation has been made independently by two workers and checked by one of the editors . USE OF NOMENCLATURE , SYMBOLS , UNITS , PHYSICAL CONSTANTS : Accepted crystallographic symbolism has been used ; other symbols related to the index necessarily have been introduced . CURRENCY : This publication covers the old literature ( Groth ) ; there is no mechanism for keeping the volumes up to date . FORMAT : The publication form is that of clothbound books . The data are presented in lists and tables . Part 1 in both volumes is labeled " Introduction and Tables " . The tables include those for the classification angles , refractive indices , and melting points of the various types of crystals . Part 2 of Volume /1 , and Parts 2 and 3 of Volume /2 , contain the crystal descriptions . These are grouped into sections according to the crystal system , and within each section compounds are arranged in the same order as in Groth 's CHEMISCHE KRYSTALLOGRAPHIE . An alphabetical list of chemical and mineralogical names with reference numbers enables one to find a particular crystal description . References to the data sources are given in the crystal descriptions . PUBLICATION AND DISTRIBUTION : The BARKER INDEX is published for the Barker Index Committee by W. Heffer + Sons , Ltd. , 3-4 Petty Cury , Cambridge , England . Volume /1 , containing Parts 1 and 2 was published in 1951 ; Volume /2 , , in three parts , in 1956 . The two volumes are available from the publisher for $16.80 and $28.00 , respectively . /2 , -2 . CRYSTAL DATA ORGANIZATION : The present edition of CRYSTAL DATA was written by J.D.H. Donnay , the Johns Hopkins University , Baltimore , Md . ( Part /2 , ) and Werner Nowacki , University of Berne , Switzerland ( Part /1 , ) with the collaboration of Gabrielle Donnay , U. S. Geological Survey , Washington , D. C. Many collaborators in the United States and Switzerland helped in collecting and assembling data , in making calculations , and in editing . Support came from academic and industrial groups in these two countries . The Geological Society of America gave a grant-in-aid to complete the work and bore the expenses of publication . Preparation of a second edition is in progress under the sponsorship of the Crystal Data Committee of the American Crystallographic Association . Coeditors are J.D.H. Donnay , G. E. Cox of Leeds University , and Olga Kennard of the National Council for Medical Research , London . Financial grants have been received from the National Science Foundation and the ( British ) Institute of Physics for the compilation work and the publication costs . The continuity of the project is suggested by plans for an eventual third edition . SUBSTANCES : Elements , alloys , inorganic and organic compounds . ( Metal data will not be included in the second edition , since these have been collected independently by W. B. Pearson , National Research Council , Ottawa , and published as A HANDBOOK OF LATTICE SPACINGS AND STRUCTURES OF METALS AND ALLOYS by Pergamon Press . ) PROPERTIES : Crystallographic data resulting mainly from X-ray and electron diffraction measurements are presented . Cell dimensions , number of formula units per cell , space group , and specific gravity are given for all substances . For some substances , auxiliary properties such as the melting point are given . SOURCES OF DATA : Part /1 , of the present edition covers the literature to mid-1948 ; Part /2 , , up to the end of 1951 . Much of the material comes directly from secondary sources such as STRUKTURBERICHT . CRITICALITY : The vast number of compounds to be covered , the limited resources to do the job , and the immediate need for this type of compilation precluded a thorough evaluation of all available data in the present edition . Future editions may be more critical . USE OF NOMENCLATURE , SYMBOLS , UNITS , PHYSICAL CONSTANTS : Since Parts /1 , and /2 , were prepared independently , the abbreviation schemes and the chemical symbols used differ in the two parts . The second edition should have greater uniformity . CURRENCY : A second edition is in preparation , and there are long range plans for a third . FORMAT : Data in the present edition are presented in tables and lists . Part /1 , deals with the classification of crystalline substances by space groups and is not a numerical data compilation . The compounds are divided according to composition into seven categories . Part /2 , contains determinative tables for the identification of crystalline substances . These are arranged according to crystal system . There are formula and name indexes covering both parts . References for Part /1 , are given at the end and for Part /2 , in the tables . PUBLICATION AND DISTRIBUTION : The present edition of CRYSTAL DATA ( **f ) , published in 1954 as Memoir 60 of the Geological Society of America , is now out of print . The manuscript of the second edition will probably be ready by the end of 1960 . /2 , -3 . CRYSTAL STRUCTURES ORGANIZATION : The author of CRYSTAL STRUCTURES is Ralph W.G. Wyckoff , University of Arizona , Tucson , Arizona . The first section of this publication appeared in 1948 and the last supplement in 1960 . Though now complete , the publication is included in this directory because of its importance and because of the long-term nature of its preparation . SUBSTANCES : Elements , inorganic and organic compounds ( no alloys ) . PROPERTIES : The data presented are derived almost entirely from X-ray diffraction measurements and include atomic coordinates , cell dimensions , and atomic and ionic radii . SOURCES OF DATA : Published literature . CRITICALITY : The aim was to state the results of all available determinations of atomic positions in crystals . Presumably the tabulated data are best available values . The critical comments in the textual sections of this publication are invaluable . USE OF NOMENCLATURE , SYMBOLS , UNITS , PHYSICAL CONSTANTS : The terminology used conforms to that of INTERNATIONALE TABELLEN ZUR BESTIMMUNG VON KRISTALLSTRUKTUREN . CURRENCY : During the years of publication , supplement and replacement sheets were issued periodically . Coverage of the literature extends through 1954 and includes some 1955 references . It is to be hoped that some way will be found to keep this important work current . FORMAT : The publication form is that of loose-leaf sheets ( **f ) contained in binders . The book is divided into chapters and in each chapter the material is grouped into Text , Tables , Illustrations , and Bibliography . Each group is paginated separately ; numbers sometimes followed by letters are used so that insertions can be made . Inorganic structures are found in Chapters /2 , -/12 , , organic structures in Chapters /13 , -/15 , . Within each chapter an effort has been made to group together those crystals with similar structures . There are three indexes , i.e. , an inorganic formula index , a mineralogical name index , and a name index to organic compounds . PUBLICATION AND DISTRIBUTION : Publisher of CRYSTAL STRUCTURES is Interscience Publishers , 250 Fifth Avenue , New York 1 , N. Y. The work consists of four sections and 5 supplements . Price of the complete work including all necessary binders is $148.50 . /2 , -4 . DANA 'S SYSTEM OF MINERALOGY ORGANIZATION : Six editions of James Dwight Dana 's SYSTEM appeared between 1837 and 1892 . In 1915 Edward S. Dana , editor of the sixth edition , asked W. E. Ford of Yale University to prepare a seventh edition of his father 's work . A number of people became involved in the preparation but work was slow until 1937 . In that year a grant was obtained from the Penrose Fund of the Geological Society of America to finance additional full-time workers . Money was also advanced by the publishers , John Wiley + Sons , Inc . Volume /1 , was completed in 1941 and published in 1944 . The editors of this volume and Volume /2 , were the late Charles Palache , Clifford Frondel , and the late Harry Berman , all of Harvard University . Work on Volume /2 , was begun in 1941 , interrupted by the war in 1942 , and resumed in 1945 . The volume was completed in 1950 and published in 1951 . A supplementary grant from the Geological Society of America helped finance its publication . Besides the editors there were many contributors in the United States and Great Britain to Volumes /1 , and /2 , . W. E. Ford , for example , continued to supply data on the occurrence of minerals until his death in 1939 . Volume /3 , is nearing completion and there are plans to revise Volume /1 , . The project is currently supported by Harvard University . SUBSTANCES : Minerals . PROPERTIES : Crystallographic , physical , optical , and chemical properties . The crystallographic data given include interaxial angles and unit cell dimensions ; the physical property values include hardness , melting point , and specific gravity . SOURCES OF DATA : Almost entirely original articles in journals ; abstracts and other compilations on rare occasions when original papers are not available . CRITICALITY : All information is carefully appraised and uncertain facts are designated by ( ? ) . An authentic diffraction pattern is always obtained and optical properties are frequently checked . USE OF NOMENCLATURE , SYMBOLS , UNITS , PHYSICAL CONSTANTS : Recommendations of international authorities , such as the International Union of Crystallography , are followed . There is a complete synonymy at the beginning of each species description . CURRENCY : Currency in the usual sense can not be maintained in an undertaking of this sort . FORMAT : The data are presented in text and tables in bound volumes . Volume /1 , of the seventh edition contains an introduction and data for eight classes of minerals ; Volume /2 , contains data for forty-two classes . References are given at the end of each mineral description and a general index is given at the end of each volume . There will be a comprehensive index in Volume /3 , covering all three volumes . PUBLICATION AND DISTRIBUTION : Volume /1 , ( **f ) of the seventh edition of DANA 'S SYSTEM OF MINERALOGY was published in 1944 and Volume /2 , ( **f ) in 1951 by John Wiley + Sons , Inc. , New York , N. Y. ( The association of Wiley + Sons with the Dana Mineralogies dates back to 1844 when they published the second edition of the SYSTEM . ) The two volumes are available from the publisher for $14.00 and $16.00 , respectively . /2 , -5 . THE GROTH INSTITUTE ORGANIZATION : " The Groth Institute " , which was established in 1958 , is a group activity affiliated with the Physics Department of The Pennsylvania State University , University Park , Pa . Ray Pepinsky is the Director . The Institute derives its name from Paul von Groth 's CHEMISCHE KRYSTALLOGRAPHIE , a five-volume work which appeared between 1906 and 1919 . The resident staff is large and consists of professional assistants , graduate students , abstractors , librarian , technical editor , machine operators , secretarial help , and others . There are also corresponding members and outside advisory groups . The Air Force Office of Scientific Research has provided financial assistance in the early stages of the Institute 's program . SUBSTANCES : All crystalline substances and other solid-state materials . PROPERTIES : The aim is to collect a very broad range of physical , chemical , morphological , and structural data for crystals on an encyclopedic scale and to seek all possible useful and revealing correlations of properties with internal structure . SOURCES OF DATA : The first stage of operation has centered on the literature imaging of critical or summarizing tabulations such as the Barker Index . Coverage of primary literature will follow . Unpublished data will be available to the Groth institute from cooperating groups and individuals . CRITICALITY : Critical evaluation of all data compiled is not a primary aim of this project . However , the proposed correlation of the many interrelated properties of crystals will reveal discrepancies in the recorded data and suggest areas for reinvestigation . In addition , the availability of computers will permit recalculation and refinement of much structural information . USE OF NOMENCLATURE , SYMBOLS , UNITS , PHYSICAL CONSTANTS : For punched-card or tape storage of information all literature values must be conformed to a common language . In this way a degree of unification of nomenclature , symbols , and units will be realized . BECAUSE INDIVIDUAL CLASSES OF foods differ in their requirements for preservation , a number of methods have been developed over the years involving one or a combination of procedures such as dehydration , fermentation , salting , chemical treatment , canning , refrigeration , and freezing . The basic objectives in each instance are to make available supplies of food during the intervals between harvesting or slaughter , to minimize losses resulting from the action of microorganisms and insects , and to make it possible to transport foods from the area of harvest or production to areas of consumption . In earlier years , the preservation of food was essentially related to survival . In the more sophisticated atmosphere of today 's developed nations , food-preservation techniques have sought also to bring variety , peak freshness , and optimum taste and flavor in foods at reasonable cost to the comsumer . With the development of nuclear technology , isotopic materials , and machine radiation sources in recent years , the possibilities of applying ionizing radiation to the preservation of foods attracted the attention of investigators in the United States and throughout the world . An early hope that irradiation might be the ultimate answer to practically all food preservation problems was soon dispelled . Interest remained , however , in the possibility that it would serve as a useful supplementary method for counteracting spoilage losses and for preserving some foods at lower over-all costs than freezing , or without employing heat or chemicals with their attendant taste alterations . FACTORS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE SPOILAGE OF FOODS The chief factors responsible for the spoilage of fresh foodstuffs are ( 1 ) microorganisms such as bacteria , molds , and yeasts , ( 2 ) enzymes , ( 3 ) insects , ( 4 ) sprouting , and ( 5 ) chemical reactions . Microorganisms are often responsible for the rapid spoilage of foods . Of special concern is the growth of bacteria such as Clostridium botulinum which generate poisonous products . Enzymatic action in stored food produces changes which can adversely affect the appearance of food or its palatability . Spoilage by chemical action results from the reaction of one group of components in the food with others or with its environment , as in corrosion of the walls of metal containers or the reaction of fats with oxygen in the air to produce rancidity . Sprouting is a naturally occurring phenomenon in stored potatoes , onions , carrots , beets , and similar root vegetables . Insect infestation is a problem of importance chiefly in stored grain . The presence of parasitic organisms such as Trichinella spiralis in pork introduces another factor which must be dealt with in food processing . To permit the storage of food for long periods of time , a method of preservation must accomplish the destruction of microorganisms and inhibition of enzymatic action . The term " sterilization " applies to methods involving essentially complete destruction of all microorganisms . Food treated in this manner and protected from recontamination by aseptic methods of packaging and containment presumably could be stored for long periods without refrigeration . The process of " pasteurization " involves milder and less prolonged heat treatment which accomplishes the destruction of most , but not all , of the microorganisms . Less severe thermal treatment as by blanching or scalding serves to inactivate enzymes . GENERAL EFFECTS OF IONIZING RADIATION Ionizing radiation can cause the destruction of microorganisms and insects involved in food spoilage or , at lower doses , can inhibit their action . It furnishes a means of destroying insects in stored grain products as well as certain parasitic organisms present in meats . Deactivation of enzymes is also possible , although some types require extremely heavy doses of 10 Mrad or more . Because of undesirable flavors , odors , colors , and generally low palatability associated with radiation treatment of this magnitude , the inactivation of enzymes is best accomplished prior to irradiation by the conventional heat-processing methods of blanching . Radiation does not retard the chemical spoilage of food . It will , however , inhibit the sprouting of potatoes and other root vegetables . The radiation doses required for the preservation of foods are in the following ranges : 1 . For radiosterilization , to destroy all organisms for long-term preservation — about 4.5 Mrad for nonacid foods of low salt content . 2 . For radiopasteurization , to partially destroy microorganisms ; results vary with types of food , storage conditions , and objectives of treatment — commonly of the order of 0.2 Mrads but up to about 0.8 Mrads . 3 . For destruction of insects — about 25,000 rads . 4 . For inhibiting the sprouting of root vegetables — 4,000 to 10,000 rads . Preserving foods with ionizing radiation leads to some undesirable side effects , particularly at the higher radiation dosages . In this respect , the general palatability and individual acceptance of most radiosterilized foods has , to date , been found to be low in comparison with fresh and commercially processed foods . A number of foods are quite acceptable as regards taste and palatability , however , at dosages substantially less than sterilization levels . Moreover , the nutritive value of irradiated foods apparently undergoes little , if any , change , although some of the fat-soluble vitamins are affected by sterilization doses . RADIATION SOURCES For irradiation of food , the results obtained depend upon the dose rather than the specific type of radiation , and X-ray , gamma , and high-energy electron radiation are suitable . Aside from availability and economic considerations , each has certain practical advantages ; for example , gamma rays give deeper penetration but can not be focused or collimated , whereas unidirectional electron beams may be split and directed to both the top and bottom of the food package to be irradiated . Selection of a source for commercial irradiation would involve consideration of numerous factors including required dose rate , load factor , throughput , convenience , safety , and most important , costs . Of the potentially useful sources of ionizing radiations , gamma sources , cobalt-60 , cesium-137 , fission products , or a reactor irradiation loop system using a material such as an indium salt have received most attention for food-preservation systems . Of the various particle accelerators , the Van de Graff machines , resonant transformers , and linear accelerators are the principal ones available for commercial use . Costs of the effective energy produced by these sources is a major obstacle in the development of food-preservation processes . Estimated production costs of radiation energy from machine and nuclide sources range from $1 to $10 per kwhr . Conventional energy for processing foods is available in the range of at most a few cents per kwhr for electric power and the equivalent of a few mills per kwhr for process steam . Radiation , therefore , is at an initial cost disadvantage even though only 1 to 10 per cent as much radiation energy as heat energy is required for radiopasteurization or radiosterilization . What are the possibilities of lowered radiation production costs for the future ? It has been estimated that for applications on a megawatt scale costs might reach values in the neighborhood of 10 cents per kwhr for large-scale accelerators or for gamma radiation generated in a reactor core . No comparable reductions in the cost of nuclide radiation are foreseen . Such projections , however , appear highly speculative and the capacities involved are far beyond those foreseen for food-preservation facilities . Because agricultural activities are seasonal and the areas of production and harvest of many foods are widely scattered geographically , and because of the high cost of transporting bulk food items any substantial distance to a central processing location , the use of large central processing stations , where low-cost radiation facilities approaching the megawatt range might be utilized , is inherently impracticable . PRESENT STATUS OF IRRADIATION PRESERVATION OF FOODS The objective of complete sterilization of foods is to produce a wholesome and palatable product capable of being stored without refrigeration for extended periods of time . Chief interest in radiosterilization resides in the military services . For them , providing appetizing food under battle or emergency conditions is a paramount consideration . They require completely sterile foods capable of being stored without refrigeration , preferably items already cooked and ready to eat . High nutritional value , variety , palatability , and appetizing appearance are important for reasons of morale . Foods for rear stations , which require cooking , but no refrigeration , are also of interest . Of primary interest are meats . Radiopasteurization , which produces fewer adverse sensory changes in food products , has potential usefulness in prolonging the keeping qualities of fresh and refrigerated food items . Thus , food so processed might reach more remote markets and permit the consumer to enjoy more produce at peak freshness and palatability . Commercial interest is chiefly in this type of treatment , as is military interest under peacetime conditions . The present status of food preservation by ionizing radiation is discussed by food classes in the following paragraphs . MEATS The radiation processing of meat has received extensive investigation . To date , the one meat showing favorable results at sterilization doses is pork . Of particular interest to the military services is the demonstration that roast pork , after radiosterilization , is superior in palatability to available canned pork products . Tests with beef have been largely unsuccessful because of the development of off-flavors . A prime objective of the Army Quartermaster Corps program is to find the reasons for beef 's low palatability and means of overcoming it , since it is a major and desirable dietary item . Partly because low-level heat treatment is needed to inactivate enzymes before radiosterilization , treated fresh meats have the appearance of boiled or canned meat . Off-flavor is a less severe problem with the radiopasteurization of meats , but problems of commercial acceptability remain . Moderate radiation doses of from 100,000 to 200,000 rads can extend the shelf life ( at 35 F ) of fresh beef from 5 days to 5 or 6 weeks . However , the problem of consumer acceptability remains . The preradiation blanching process discolors the treated beef and liquid accumulates in prepackaged cuts . Cooked beef irradiated in the absence of oxygen assumes an unnatural pink color . When lamb and mutton are irradiated at substerilization doses , the meat becomes dehydrated , the fat become chalky , and , again , unnatural changes in color occur . Ground meats such as fresh pork sausage and hamburger have a relatively short shelf life under refrigeration , and radiopasteurization might be thought to offer distinctly improved keeping qualities . However , a major problem here is one of scale of processing ; ground meats are usually prepared from scrap meats at the local level , whereas irradiation at economic volumes of production would require central processing and distribution facilities . The problems of color change by blanching and liquid accumulation within the package are the same as for solid cuts . Specialty cooked items containing meat portions , as in " frozen dinners " might offer a potential use for radiopasteurization . The principal potential advantage would be that the finished product could be transported and stored at lower cost under refrigeration instead of being frozen . A refrigerated item could also be heated and served in less time than is required for frozen foods of the same type . Competitive processes for preserving meats are by canning and freezing . Costs of canning meat are in the range of 0.8 to 5 cents per pound ; costs of freezing are in the area of 2 to 3.5 cents per pound . The table on page 10 shows costs of canning and freezing meat , and estimated costs for irradiation under certain assumed conditions . Under the conditions of comparison , it will be noted that : ( 1 ) Radiosterilization ( at 3 Mrad ) is more expensive than canning , particularly for the cesium-137 source . ( 2 ) Radiopasteurization by either the electron accelerator or cesium-137 source is in the range of freezing costs . ( 3 ) Irradiation using the nuclide source is more expensive than use of an electron accelerator . POULTRY Results of irradiation tests with poultry have been quite successful . At sterilizing doses , good palatability results , with a minimum of changes in appearance , taste , and odor . Radiopasteurization has also been successful , and the shelf life of chicken can be extended to a month or more under refrigerated storage as compared with about 10 days for the untreated product . Acceptable taste and odor are retained by the irradiated and refrigerated chicken . Acceptance of radiopasteurization is likely to be delayed , however , for two reasons : ( 1 ) the storage life of fresh chicken under refrigeration is becoming a minimal problem because of constantly improved sanitation and distributing practices , and ( 2 ) treatment by antibiotics , a measure already approved by the Federal Food and Drug Administration , serves to extend the storage life of chicken at a low cost of about 0.5 cent per pound . SEAFOOD Fresh seafood products are extremely perishable . Although refrigeration has served to extend the storage life of these products , substantially increased consumption might be possible if areas remote from the seacoast could be served adequately . Furthermore , it has made an exact assessment of the removal mechanisms possible . The instrument is shown in Fig. 1 and consists essentially of a hard , sharp , tungsten carbide knife which is pushed along the substrate to remove the coating . The force required to accomplish removal is plotted , by means of an electronic recorder , against distance of removal . Since the removal force is a function of coating thickness , a differential transformer pickup has been incorporated into the instrument to accurately measure film thickness . This , too , is recorded against distance by a repeat run over the same track previously cut . A number of adjustment features are included in the Hesiometer to facilitate measurement and permit ready removal of coatings deposited on such substrates as iron and other metals , glass , wood , and plastic surfaces . The measurement of topcoats on primers can also readily be carried out . Hesiometer results have been found to compare excellently with manual knife scratching tests . The instrumental method , however , is about 100 times more sensitive and yields numerical results which can be accurately repeated at wil over a period of time . If a wedge-shaped coating of increasing thickness is removed from a substrate by an instrument like the Hesiometer with a knife of constant rake angle , a number of removal mechanisms are often observed which depend upon the thickness of the coating . At low thicknesses a cutting ( or shearing ) phenomenon is often encountered . As the coating becomes thicker , the cutting may abruptly change to a cracking type of failure . If the coating becomes still thicker , a peeling type failure finally can occur . The typical appearance of these various mechanisms is illustrated in Figs. 2 , 3 , and 4 , which are single frame enlargements of high speed movies taken during the course of the knife removal process . It can be seen from Fig. 2 that the cutting removal of a coating from its substrate involves pure cohesive failure of the coating . The molecular forces holding the coating to the substrate are obviously greater than the cohesive strength of the coating and failure occurs by shear along a plane starting at the tip of the knife and extending to the coating surface . The pictures of Figs. 3 and 4 show the cracking and peeling types of removal where the coating is detached by failure in a region at , or close to , the interface between coating and substrate . If the force required to remove the coatings is plotted against film thickness , a graph as illustrated schematically in Fig. 5 may characteristically result . Here , H is the coatings removal force measured parallel to the surface of the substrate and t is the film thickness . It can be seen that the force is characteristic of the removal process and changes abruptly from cutting to cracking to peeling removal . Also , it can be readily seen that the cutting and peeling types of failure show a steady state response , while the cracking mechanism is of a dynamic nature . It should be recalled that these three mechanisms can occur on the same coating deposited upon the same substrate merely as a function of changes in coatings thickness . Presumably the interfacial bond strength and gross cohesive properties are identical in each case . What then , are the factors that contribute to these phenomena ? Why should the " practical adhesion " of a coating as assessed by a knife method change , initially increasing rather rapidly and then decreasing stepwise to very low values as the knife is forced through a coating of increasing thickness ? CUTTING MECHANISM OF COHESIVE FAILURE The cutting ( or shearing ) removal process has been previously described . It was found that the coating is separated from its substrate entirely by cohesive failure . The details of the removal process are shown schematically in Fig. 6 . The various forces result from the reaction of the removed paint chip against the face of the knife and along the shear plane , which makes an angle f with the substrate . The action and reaction forces are R and **f , respectively and are equal and opposite in direction . All the other force vectors are derived from these . **f is the force required to cut a coating of thickness t from the substrate . **f is the shear force along the shear plane ; **f and **f are the thrust forces acting against coating and knife , respectively ; **f is the normal compressive force acting on the shear plane ; **f is the friction force between chip and knife surfaces , and P is the normal force acting on the face of the knife . a is the rake angle of the knife ; f is the angle the shear plane makes with the substrate ; t is the friction angle ; and b is the angle the resultants make with the plane of the substrate . An analysis of the vector relationships shows that the rake angle a and the friction angle t determine the vector direction **f of the force resultants R and **f . Consequently , both the rake angle of the knife as well as the friction occurring between the back of the removed coating and the front of the knife will determine in large part the detailed mechanism of the cutting removal process . It is difficult to measure the direction and magnitude of R directly . In actual practice , the values most readily amenable to measurement are the cutting force **f and the shear angle f . These two values and the rake angle a are sufficient to determine the other parameters of these relationships . a is defined by the geometry of the knife ; f can readily be determined by measuring the thickness of the coating before and after cutting from the substrate ; **f is instrumentally determined . From Fig. 6 the relationship between these parameters can readily be derived and the cutting force is **f where l is the shear strength of the coating and is a parameter of the coatings material , w is the width of the removed coating and t is its thickness . If the cutting force , **f is plotted against film thickness , a straight line should result passing through the origin and having slope **f . However , in the actual assessment of the cutting force by instrumental methods for any thickness of coating a number of spurious effects occur which must be taken into account and which make the measured value larger than the true cutting force indicated by eqn . ( 1 ) . BLUNT KNIFE One of these is the fact that the knife employed , no matter how well sharpened , will have a slightly rounded cutting edge . This signifies that a , the rake angle , is no longer a constant to zero film thickness . The curvature of this bluntness is , in the case of the Carboloy knife employed in the Hesiometer , determined by the grain sizes of the polished grit and the tungsten carbide crystals cemented together in the knife body and is in the order of 0.1 to 0.2 mil . The force vector concept of Fig. 6 can readily be applied to this condition also . Because the rake angle **f at the tip of the knife is very much smaller ( or even negative ) when compared to the value of a for the major portion of the knife , a very rapid increase in cutting force with thickness will result . This reduces to the relationship : **f where **f is the intercept at zero thickness of the extrapolation of the slope indicated in eqn . ( 1 ) , **f is the thickness of the coating equivalent to the rounding off of the knife tip , **f is a straight line first approximation of this roundness , and the other symbols are equivalent to those of eqn . ( 1 ) . It can be seen that **f is a constant , and is determined for the most part by the geometry of the knife . The blunter the knife , the higher is the value of **f . The importance of a hard , abrasion resistant knife material like the Carboloy employed in the Hesiometer immediately becomes apparent . Softer knives would blunt very rapidly , making the value of **f inexact . In extreme cases of very soft knives this value may even change during the course of a measurement . KNIFE FRICTION A second factor which enters into the practical measurement of the instrumentally determined cutting force is the frictional resistance caused by the bottom of the knife against the substrate . This is not a constant value like **f , but varies with the thickness of the coating and the direction and magnitude of the resultants R and **f of Fig. 6 . Under equilibrium conditions of cutting the chip exerts a thrust **f against the knife which tends to push it into the substrate or lift it away from the substrate depending on the vector direction of **f . The resultant friction force , **f is thus directly proportional to **f and consequently also to film thickness . The value of **f can readily be assessed by determining the frictional force exerted on the knife while running over the previously stripped coating track under various external loadings . A straight line relationship is usually observed in a plot of **f against load L , having slope k , and **f Since the load L , under actual cutting conditions is caused by **f , it can be seen that **f The measured force , H , in cutting removal of coatings from their substrates consequently can be seen to be the sum of that force required to cut the coating , **f that due to the bluntness of the knife , **f , and that due to the friction between the bottom of the knife and the substrate , **f , or **f The first two forces are directly interrelated and depend upon film thickness , whereas **f is independent of these two and is a constant for a given knife/coating combination . These theoretical relationships are more clearly illustrated in Fig. 7 and their sum can be seen to correlate in form with practical measurements made with the Hesiometer as illustrated in the first portion of Fig. 5 for the cutting mechanism . CHIPPING MECHANISM OF COHESIVE FAILURE Although a large number of coatings systems , particularly at low thicknesses fail cohesively by the cutting mechanism , frequently a second type of cohesive failure may also take place . This is a chipping , dynamic type failure encountered with very brittle coatings resins or very highly pigmented films . This is shown in the photomicrograph of Fig. 8 . The basic difference between the continuous cutting mechanism and that of the chipping mechanism is that instead of shear occurring in the coating ahead of the knife continuously without fracture , rupture intermittently occurs along the shear plane . The detailed mechanisms of this type of failure have been studied extensively by MERCHANT for metal cutting , and the principles found can be directly applied to coatings . By studying high speed movies made of this type of failure , the sequence of relationships as schematically illustrated in Fig. 9 could be observed . In the first picture ( 9a ) the knife is just beginning to advance into the inclined surface which was left from the previous chip formation . In the next , the shear plane angle is high , and extends to the inclined work surface . With increasing advance of the knife into the coating the shear plane extends to the coatings surface and the shear angle rapidly decreases . Eventually , rupture occurs along the shear plane ( 9e ) , and the cycle repeats itself . MERCHANT has found that the same basic relationships which describe the geometry and force systems in the case of the cutting mechanism can also be applied to the discontinuous chip formation provided the proper values of instantaneous shear angle and instantaneous chip thickness or cross-sectional area are used . Consequently , if the shear angle f is replaced by the rupture angle **f , the relationships as described in eqns . ( 1 ) , ( 2 ) , ( 4 ) , and ( 6 ) will directly apply . THE CRACKING MECHANISM Under equilibrium cutting conditions , the chip exerts a force **f against the coating and an equal opposite force **f against the knife in the plane of the substrate as shown in Fig. 6 . If the rake angle a of the knife is high enough and the friction angle t between the front of the knife and the back of the chip is low enough to give a positive value for **f , the resultant vector R will lie above the plane of the substrate . Within only a few years , foamed plastics materials have managed to grow into an integral , and important , phase of the plastics industry — and the end is still not yet in sight . Urethane foam , as only one example , was only introduced commercially in this country in 1955 . Yet last year 's volume probably topped 100 million lb. and expectations are for a market of 275 million lb. by 1964 . Many of the other foamed plastics , particularly the styrenes , show similar growth potential . And there are even newer foamed plastics that are yet to be evaluated . As this issue goes to press , for example , one manufacturer has announced an epoxy foam with outstanding buoyancy and impact strength ; another reports that a cellular polypropylene , primarily for use in wire coating applications , is being investigated . On the following pages , each of the major commercial foamed plastics is described in detail , as to properties , applications , and methods of processing . It might be well to point out , however , some of the newer developments that have taken place within the past few months which might have a bearing on the future of the various foamed plastics involved . In urethane foams , for example , there has been a definite trend toward the polyether-type materials ( which are now available in two-component rigid foam systems ) and the emphasis is definitely on one-shot molding . Most manufacturers also seem to be concentrating on formulating fire-resistant or self-extinguishing grades of urethane foam that are aimed specifically at the burgeoning building markets . Urethane foam as an insulator is also coming in for a good deal of attention . In one outstanding example , Whirlpool Corp. found that by switching to urethane foam insulation , they could increase the storage capacity of gas refrigerators to make them competitive with electric models . Much interest has also been expressed in new techniques for processing the urethane foams , including spraying , frothing , and molding ( see article , p. 391 for details ) . And in meeting the demands for urethane foam as a garment interlining , new adhesives and new methods of laminating foam to a substrate have been developed . New techniques for automatic molding of expandable styrene beads have helped boost that particular material into a number of new consumer applications , including picnic chests , beverage coolers , flower pots , and flotation-type swimming toys . Two other end-use areas which contributed to expandable styrene 's growth during the year were packaging ( molded inserts replacing complicated cardboard units ) and foamed-core building panels . Extruded expandable styrene film or sheet — claimed to be competitive price-wise with paper — also showed much potential , particularly for packaging . Sandwich panels for building utility shelters that consist of kraft paper skins and rigid styrene foam cores also aroused interest in the construction field . In vinyl foam , the big news was the development of techniques for coating fabrics with the material ( for details , see P. 395 ) . Better " hand " , a more luxurious feel , and better insulating properties were claimed to be the result . Several companies also saw possibilities in using the technique for extruding or molding vinyl products with a slight cellular core that would reduce costs yet would not affect physical properties of the end product to any great extent . Readers interested in additional information on foams are referred to the Foamed Plastics Chart appearing in the Technical Data section and to the list of references which appears below . URETHANE FOAMS Since the mid 1950s , when urethane foam first made its appearance in the American market , growth has been little short of fantastic . Present estimates are that production topped the 100-million-lb. mark in 1960 ( 85 to 90 million lb. for flexible , 10 or 11 million lb. for rigid ) ; by 1965 , production may range from 200 to 350 million lb. for flexible and from 115 to 150 million lb. for rigid . The markets that have started to open up for the foam in the past year or so seem to justify the expectations . Furniture upholstery , as just one example , can easily take millions of pounds ; foamed refrigerator insulation is under intensive evaluation by every major manufacturer ; and use of the foam for garment interlining is only now getting off the ground , with volume potential in the offing . BASIC CHEMISTRY Urethane foams are , basically , reaction products of hydroxyl-rich materials and polyisocyanates ( usually tolylene diisocyanate ) . Blowing can be either one of two types — carbon dioxide gas generated by the reaction of water on the polyisocyanate or mechanical blowing through the use of a low-boiling liquid such as a fluorinated hydrocarbon . The most important factor in determining what properties the end-product will have is quite naturally the type of hydroxyl-rich compound that is used in its production . Originally , the main types used were various compositions of polyesters . These are still in wide use today , particularly in semi-rigid formulations , for such applications as cores for sandwich-type structural panels , foamed-in-place insulation , automotive safety padding , arm rests , etc . More recently , polyethers — again in varied compositions , molecular weights , and branching — have come into use at first for the flexible foams , just lately for the rigids . The polyether glycols are claimed to give flexible urethanes a spring-back action which is much desired in cushioning . Although the first polyether foams on the market had to be produced by the two-step prepolymer method , today , thanks to new catalysts , they can be produced by a one-shot technique . It is possible that the polyether foams may soon be molded on a production basis in low-cost molds with more intricate contours and with superior properties to latex foam . The polyester urethane foam is generally produced with adipic acid polyesters ; the polyether group generally consists of foams produced with polypropylene glycol or polypropylene glycol modified with a triol . ONE SHOT VS . PREPOLYMER In the prepolymer system , the isocyanate and resin are mixed anhydrously and no foaming occurs . The foaming can be accomplished at some future time at a different location by the addition of the correct proportion of catalyst in solution . In one-shot , the isocyanate , polyester or polyether resin , catalyst , and other additives are mixed directly and a foam is produced immediately . Basically , this means that simpler processing equipment ( the mixture has good flowing characteristics ) and less external heat ( the foaming reaction is exothermic and develops internal heat ) are required in one-shot foaming , although , at the same time , the problems of controlling the conditions of one-shot foaming are critical ones . PROPERTIES Most commercial uses of urethane foams require densities between 2 and 30 lb. /cu. ft. for rigid foams , between 1 and 3 lb. /cu. ft. for flexible foams . This latter figure compares with latex foam rubber at an average of 5.5 lb. /cu. ft. in commercial grades . COMPRESSION STRENGTH : Graph in Fig. 1 , p. 392 , indicates how the ratio of compressive strength to density varies as the latter is increased or decreased . The single curve line represents a specific formulation in a test example . By varying the formula , this curve may be moved forward or backward along the coordinates to produce any desired compression strength/density ratio . THERMAL CONDUCTIVITY AND TEMPERATURE RESISTANCE : In flexible urethane foams , we are referring to the range between the highest and lowest temperatures under which the materials ' primary performance remains functionally useful . In temperature resistance , this quality is usually related to specific properties , e.g. , flexural , tensile strengths , etc . Thermal conductivity is directly traceable to the material 's porous , air-cell construction which effectively traps air or a gas in the maze of minute bubbles which forms its composition . These air or gas bubbles make highly functional thermal barriers . The K factor , a term used to denote the rate of heat transmission through a material ( B.t.u. /sq. ft. of material/hr. /°F. /in. of thickness ) ranges from 0.24 to 0.28 for flexible urethane foams and from 0.12 to 0.16 for rigid urethane foams , depending upon the formulation , density , cell size , and nature of blowing agents used . Table /1 , , p. 394 , shows a comparison of K factor ratings of a number of commercial insulating materials in common use , including two different types of rigid urethane foam . FLEXURAL STRENGTH : This term refers to the ability of a material to resist bending stress and is determined by measuring the load required to cause failure by bending . The higher-density urethane semi-rigid foams usually have stronger flex fatigue resistance , i.e. , the 12 lb. /cu. ft. foam has 8 times the flexural strength of the 3 lb. /cu. ft. density . Note that flexural strength is not always improved by simply increasing the density , nor is the change always proportional from one formulation to another . Where flexural strength is an important factor , be sure that your urethane foam processor is aware of it . TENSILE STRENGTH : This property refers to the greatest longitudinal stress or tension a material can endure without tearing apart . Like compression strength of urethane foams , it has a direct relationship to formulation . Exceptional tensile strength is another of urethane foam 's strong features . Figure 2 , above , shows the aging properties of urethane foams as determined by the percent of change in tensile strength during exposure to ultra-violet light . PROCESSING URETHANES There are many ways of producing a foamed urethane product . The foam can be made into slab stock and cut to shape , it can be molded , it can be poured-in-place , it can be applied by spray guns , etc . Slab stock is still one of the most important forms of urethane end-product in use today . Basically , the foam machines that produce such stock consist of two or more pumping units , a variable mixer , a nozzle carriage assembly , and , in many cases , a conveyor belt to transport and contain the liquid during the reaction process and until it solidifies into foam . The ingredients are fed from tanks through a hose and into the mixer at a predetermined rate . The mixing head moves back and forth slowly across the width of the receptacle . It only takes a few minutes for the foaming action to be completed and after a short cure , the material can be cut into lengths as desired . Much has been done in the way of ingenious slitters to fabricate the slab stock into finished products . Profile cutting machines are available which can split foam to any desired thickness and produce sine , triangle , trapezoid , and other profiles in variable heights , dimensions , etc . The convoluted sheets can be combined to attain certain cushioning effects mechanically rather than chemically . Also available is a slitter which " peels " the inside of a folded block of foam and can be used to slit continuous sheets up to 300 yd. in length , down to 1/16 in. thick . The low cost and ease of fabrication of the dies for three-dimensional foam cutting plus the wide variety of shapes , dimensions , and contours that can be tailor-made to customer requirements has made the technique useful for producing case liners , materials handling containers , packaging and cushioning devices , and such novelties as soap dishes , toys , head rests , arch supports , and gas pedal covers . MOLDING Although slab stock appeared first , it soon became apparent that for the production of cushions with irregular shapes , crowned contours , or rounded edges , the cutting of slab stock is a wasteful and uneconomical process . Only by resorting to molding techniques can the cushion manufacturer hope to compete satisfactorily in the established cushion market . The closed molding of flexible urethane foams has been a problem ever since the introduction of the material ( molding in open molds was more feasible ) . Satisfactory methods for polyester foams and even prepolymer polyether foams were never fully achieved . Closed molding generally resulted in parts weighing more ( because of higher density ) than parts fabricated from free-blown foams . This counteracted the gain from having no scrap loss . In addition , there were difficulties with the flow and spreading of the foam mixture over the mold surface , trouble with lack of gel strength in the rising foam , and problems of splits . The introduction of one-shot polyether foam systems , aided by the development of new catalysts , helped to alleviate some of the problems of closed molding . While there are still many bugs to be ironed out , the technique is fast developing . OTHER TECHNIQUES Simple systems are available that make it possible for urethane foam components to be poured , pumped , etc. , into a void where they foam up to fill the void . In a typical application — the making of rigid urethane foam sandwich panels — an amount of foam mixture calculated to expand 10 to 20% more than the volume of the panel is poured into the panel void and the top of the panel is locked in place by a jig . Temperature of the wash and rinse waters is maintained at 85-90°F. ( 29-32°C . ) . The top rolls are loaded with 40 lbs . Sixty lbs . loading is possible but 40 lbs . is adequate . The suds box drain is arranged at the start to deliver into the raised main drain pipe ( thus returning suds to soap box ) and the machine is started . The 160-ml. bath containing the calculated amount of detergent is applied slowly and directly to the running specimen . Washing is continued for 30 minutes or for a period of time sufficient to allow 100 nips or passes through the squeeze rolls . At the conclusion of the washing , 8 liters of water at 90°F. ( 32°C. ) are automatically metered from the rinse reservoir to the washing tubs , 4 liters to each tub . This operation requires from 10 to 12 minutes . During the rinsing operation the volume in the tubs gradually increases until overflow from the main drain begins . At this point the drains are readjusted so that the suds box drain will discharge directly into the waste line and the main tub drain is set at the 2-1/2 mark on the drain gauge . When all of the rinse water has passed from the reservoir to the tubs the main drains are lowered to permit complete draining of the tubs . The run is complete when all the water has drained off into the waste line . By this procedure rinsing progresses in two stages , first by dilution until the time when the drains are separated and thereafter by displacement of the soil-bearing liquor by clean rinse water , since soiled liquor squeezed from the specimens at the nip passes directly to waste from the suds box drains . This method of rinsing appears to produce maximum cleansing with minimum soil redeposition . SUGGESTED EVALUATION AND CLASSIFICATION Evaluation may be made on either a soil-removal or a grease-removal basis as desired . A reflectance-measuring instrument may be desirable to measure cleaning , whereas Soxhlet extraction is necessary to measure grease removal . PURPOSE AND SCOPE This test method is intended for determining the dimensional changes of woven or knitted fabrics , made of fibers other than wool , to be expected when the cloth is subjected to laundering procedures commonly used in the commercial laundry and the home . Four washing test procedures are established , varying in severity from very severe to very mild , and are intended to cover the range of practical washing from commercial procedure to hand washing . Five drying test procedures are established to cover the range of drying techniques used in the home and commercial laundry . Three methods for determining the dimensional restorability characteristics are established for those textiles which require restoration by ironing or wearing after laundering . These tests are not accelerated and must be repeated to evaluate dimensional changes after repeated launderings . Table /1 , summarizes all of the various washing , drying , and restoration procedures available . The person using these tests must determine which combination of procedures is practical for any specific item in order to evaluate the dimensional changes of textile fabrics or garments after laundering procedures commonly used in the home or commercial laundry . It is possible to identify the test procedure completely with a code consisting of a Roman Numeral , a letter , and an Arabic number . For example Test /3 , E 1 refers to a specimen which has been washed by procedure " /3 , " ( at 160°F. for a total of 60 minutes in the machine , has been dried in a tumble dryer by procedure " E " and has been subjected to restorative forces on the Tension Presser by procedure " 1 " . PRINCIPLE A specimen or garment is washed in a cylindrical reversing wash wheel , dried and subjected to restorative forces where necessary . Temperature and time of agitation in the wash wheel are varied to obtain different degrees of severity . Drying procedures and application of restorative force procedures are varied to conform with end-use handling during home or commercial laundering . Distances marked on the specimen in warp and filling directions ( or wales and courses for knitted fabrics ) are measured before and after laundering . APPARATUS AND MATERIALS WASH WHEEL — CYLINDRICAL WASH WHEEL OF THE REVERSING TYPE . The wheel ( cage ) is 20 to 24 inches inside diameter and 20 to 24 inches inside length . There are three fins each approximately three inches wide extending the full length of the inside of the wheel . One fin is located every 120° around the inside diameter of the wheel . The wash wheel rotates at a speed of 30 revolutions per minute , making five to ten revolutions before reversing . The water inlets are large enough to permit filling the wheel to an eight-inch level in less than two minutes , and the outlet is large enough to permit discharge of this same amount of water in less than two minutes . The machine is equipped with a pipe for injecting live steam that is capable of raising the temperature of water at an eight-inch level from 110° to 140°F. ( 38° to 60°C. ) in less than two minutes . The machine shall contain an opening for the insertion of a thermometer or other equivalent equipment for determining the temperature of the water during the washing and rinsing procedures . It is equipped with an outside water gauge that will indicate the level of the water in the wheel . A domestic automatic washer that will give equivalent results may be used . The wash wheel is the equipment preferred for the test . PRESSING EQUIPMENT — FLAT-BED PRESS MEASURING 24 INCHES BY 50 INCHES OR LARGER . Any flat-bed press capable of pressing a specimen 22 inches square may be used as an alternative . The flat-bed press is maintained at a temperature not less than 275°F. ( 135°C . ) . DRYER — DRYER OF THE ROTARY TUMBLE TYPE , HAVING A CYLINDRICAL BASKET APPROXIMATELY 30 INCHES IN DIAMETER AND 24 INCHES IN LENGTH AND ROTATING AT APPROXIMATELY 35 R.P.M. The dryer is provided with a means of maintaining a drying temperature of 120°-160°F. ( 49°-71°C. ) , measured in the exhaust vent as close as possible to the drying chamber . SCREEN DRYING RACKS — 16-MESH SCREENING ( SARAN OR VELON ) . DRYING ROOM-FACILITIES FOR DRIP — OR LINE-DRYING . EXTRACTOR — CENTRIFUGAL EXTRACTOR OF THE LAUNDRY-TYPE WITH A PERFORATED BASKET , APPROXIMATELY 11 INCHES DEEP BY 17 INCHES IN DIAMETER , WITH AN OPERATING SPEED OF APPROXIMATELY 1,500 R.P.M. PEN AND INK , INDELIBLE — OR OTHER SUITABLE MARKING DEVICE . MEASURING SCALE- . SOAP , NEUTRAL CHIP — FED . SPEC . P S 566 OR ASTM D-496 . SOFTENER — E.G. SODIUM METAPHOSPHATE OR SODIUM HEXAMETAPHOSPHATE ( IF NEEDED IN HARD WATER AREAS ) . DETERGENT , SYNTHETIC — ALKYLARYSULFONATE TYPE . FLATIRON , ELECTRIC — APPROXIMATELY 3 LB . TENSION PRESSER — CONSISTING OF A PADDED IRONING BOARD FROM WHICH EXTEND CLAMPING MEMBERS ON ALL FOUR SIDES . Two of the clamps are fixed to the edges of the board whereas two clamps travel on guide rails opposite the fixed clamps . The movable clamps travel on carriages which ride the rails and are drawn by dead-weight loading . Sets of weights are provided so that the load can be selected in the range of 1/2 to 4 pounds . A perforated aluminum plate , used to provide the drying surface , is heated by means of a flatiron . A special template is furnished with the apparatus to enable marking a specimen for a central measuring area and the fabric extensions to the clamps ( see Fig. 2 ) . KNIT SHRINKAGE GAUGE — CONSISTING OF A SET OF 20 MOUNTING PINS SET IN GUIDES IN RADIAL SLOTS ( FIG.1 ) . Each pin is individually sprung to a tensioning member which is driven outwardly in the slot . The springs have an extension of 1 inch at **f tension . The tensioning members have a common drive so that the application of restorative force takes place simultaneously in all directions in the plane of the test specimen . The minimum diameter of the pin frame in the collapsed state is 11 inches and the maximum diameter in the freely extended state ( unloaded ) is 14 inches . The surface of the apparatus in contact with the test specimen is uncluttered and polished so as to be as friction-free as possible . TEST SPECIMENS The preparation of test specimens will vary depending upon the type of dimensional restorability procedure ( if any ) to be used . Three specimens for each sample to be tested are required in order to arrive at a satisfactory average of performance . This is especially true for knitted fabrics . Specimens are allowed to reach moisture equilibrium with a standard atmosphere of **f and **f and then laid out without tension on a flat , polished surface , care being taken that the fabric is free from wrinkles or creases . Fabrics that are badly distorted in their unlaundered state due to faulty finishing may give deceptive dimensional change results when laundered by any procedure . This also holds true if restorative forces are applied . Therefore , it is recommended that in such cases the sample be replaced , or if used , the results of dimensional change or dimensional restorability tests be considered as indicative only . Generally , it is necessary to mark distances on a specimen ( or garment ) in both lengthwise and widthwise directions and to measure before and after laundering . The distances may be marked with indelible ink and a fine-point pen , by sewing fine threads into the fabric , or by a specially designed stamping machine . The marked distances are parallel to the respective yarns . Usually , the greater the original distances marked , the greater will be the accuracy of the test . Distances of less than 10 inches are not recommended . WOVEN FABRICS TO BE DRIED BY PROCEDURE B ( FLAT-BED PRESSED ) OR RESTORED BY PROCEDURE 3 ( HAND IRONING ) : The specimen of fabric is a rectangle at least 22 by 22 inches , except for cloth narrower than 22 inches , in which case the specimen is the entire width of the fabric . Three distances , each at least 18 inches , are measured and marked off parallel to each of the warp and filling directions . The distances are at least two inches from any edge of the specimen . WOVEN OR WARP KNITTED FABRICS TO BE SUBJECTED TO RESTORATIVE PROCEDURE 1 ( TENSION PRESSER ) . Each specimen is at least 25 inches by 25 inches . Place the template ( Fig. 2 ) on the fabric so that the sides of the 10 inch square cut out of the template are parallel to the warp and filling for woven fabrics , or the wales and courses for knitted fabrics , and so that the same amount of fabric extends beyond the edges of the template on all sides . Mark the specimen at the outer edges of the template with pen and indelible ink ; also place three dots on the specimen at each side of the 10 inch square , one dot at midpoint , and one at approximately 1/2 inch from each corner . Measure and record . CIRCULAR KNITTED FABRICS TO BE SUBJECTED TO RESTORATIVE PROCEDURE 2 , ( KNIT SHRINKAGE GAUGE ) . Each specimen is approximately 16 inches square . The markings consist of a centrally located 10 inch diameter measuring circle and a 14 inch diameter circle of 20 dots equidistantly spaced ( See Figure 1 ) . GARMENTS . Critical measurements in length and width directions should be taken before and after washing , drying , and restorative procedures . PROCEDURE WASHING- The washing procedures are summarized in Table /2 , . Place the specimen in the wash wheel with sufficient other similar fabric to make a dry load of **f pounds . Start the wash wheel and note the time . Immediately add water at 100-105°F. ( 38-43°C. ) to the wheel to a level of **f inches ; this level will be increased by condensed steam . When this water level has been reached , inject steam into the wheel until the temperature reaches that shown in Column B of Table /2 , . Add sufficient soap ( and softener if required to counteract hard water ) to furnish a good running suds , or if desired use a synthetic detergent . TEST /1 , - Stop the wash wheel at the end of the time shown in Column A of Table /2 , and drain . Refill the machine to a level of **f inches with water at 100-109° F. ( 38-43° C. ) and start the machine . Inject steam , if necessary , to reach the temperature shown in Column D of Table /2 , . Again stop the machine at the end of the time shown in Column C of Table /2 , . This procedure is repeated for the second rinse , using the temperatures and time shown in Columns F and E of Table /2 , . TESTS /2 , , /3 , , AND /4 , . - Run the machine continuously until completion of the test . Drain off the soap solution of the suds cycle at such a time that the wheel has become substantially empty of soap and water at the end of the time shown in Column A of Table /2 , , measured from the time the wash wheel was started . Refill the machine to a level of **f inches with water at 100-109° F. ( 38-43° C. ) . When this water level has been reached , inject steam until the temperature is that shown in Column D. Drain off the water at such a time that the wheel has become substantially empty of water at the end of the sum of the times shown in Columns A and C , measured from the time the wash wheel was started . Immediately refill to a level of **f inches with water at 100-109° F. ( 38-43° C. ) . When this water level has been reached inject steam until the temperature is that shown in Column F. Drain off the water at such a time that the wheel has become substantially empty of water at the end of the sum of the times shown in Columns A , C , and E , measured from the time the wash wheel was started . High-gain , photoelectronic image intensification is applied under conditions of low incident light levels whenever the integration time required by a sensor or recording instrument exceeds the limits of practicability . Examples of such situations are ( aerial ) night reconnaissance , the recording of radioactive tracers in live body tissues , special radiography in medical or industrial applications , track recording of high energy particles , etc . High-gain photoelectronic image intensification may be achieved by several methods ; some of these are listed below : ( A ) Cascading single stages by coupling lens systems , ( B ) Channel-type , secondary emission image intensifier , ( C ) Image intensifier based upon the " multipactor " principle , ( D ) Transmission secondary electron multiplication image intensifiers ( TSEM tubes ) , ( E ) Cascading of single stages , enclosed in one common envelope . Cascading single stages by coupling lens systems is rather inefficient as the lens systems limit the obtainable gain quite severely . Channel-type image intensifiers are capable of achieving high-gain values ; suffer , however , from an inherently low resolution . Image intensifiers based upon the multipactor principle appear to hold promise as far as obtainable resolution is concerned . However , the unavoidable low-duty cycle restricts the effective gain . TSEM tubes have been constructed showing high gain and resolution . However , electrostatic focus , important for many applications , has not been realized for these devices . Resolution limitations with electrostatic focus might be anticipated due to chromatic aberrations . Furthermore , the thin film dynodes appear to have a natural diameter limitation wherever a mesh support can not be tolerated . Cascaded single stages enclosed by a common envelope have been constructed with high gain and high resolution . These tubes may differ both in the choice of the electron optical system and in the design of the coupling members . The electron optical system may be either a magnetic or electrostatic one . The magnification may be smaller , equal , or larger than unity . An electrostatic system suffers generally from image plane curvature leading to defocusing in the peripheral image region if a flat viewing screen ( or interstage coupler ) is utilized , while a magnetic system requires accurate adjustment of the solenoid , which is heavy and bulky . As it will be discussed later , peripheral defocusing can be improved on by utilizing curved fiber couplers . It should be noted , however , that the paraxial resolution is quite similar for both electron optical systems . It is felt that fiber-coupled double — ( and multi- ) stage image intensifiers will gain considerable importance in the future . Therefore , we shall consider in this paper the theoretical gain and resolution capabilities of such tubes . The luminous efficiency and resolution of single stages , fiber couplers , and finally of the composite tube will be computed . It will be shown theoretically that the high image intensification obtainable with such a tube and contact photography permits the utilization of extremely low incident light levels . The effect of device and quantum noise , associated with such low input levels , will be described . After these theoretical considerations , constructional details of a fiber-coupled , double-stage X-ray image intensifier will be discussed . Measured performance characteristics for this experimental tube will be listed . The conclusion shall be reached that fiber-coupled , double-stage tubes represent a sensible and practical approach to high-gain image intensification . BASIC DESIGN OF A FIBER-COUPLED , DOUBLE-STAGE IMAGE INTENSIFIER The tube design which forms the basis of the theoretical discussion shall be described now . The electron optical system ( see fig. 14-1 ) is based in principle on the focusing action of concentric spherical cathode and anode surfaces . The inner [ anode ] sphere is pierced , elongated into a cup , and terminated by the phosphor screen . The photoelectrons emitted from a circular segment of the cathode sphere are focused by the positive lens action of the two concentric spheres , pass through the [ negative ] lens formed by the anode aperture , and impinge upon the cathodoluminescent viewing screen . The cylindrical focusing electrode permits adjustment of the positive lens part by varying the focusing potential . The anode potential codetermines the gain , G , and magnification , M , of the stage . Both the photocathode and the image plane of such an electrode configuration are curved concave as seen from the anode aperture . The field-flattening property of the biconcave fiber coupler can be utilized to alleviate the peripheral resolution losses resulting with a flat phosphor-screen or coupling member . For the same reason , the output fiber plate is planoconcave , its exposed flat side permitting contact photography if a permanent record is desired . As it will be shown later , the field-flattening properties of the interstage and output fiber coupler comprise indeed the main advantage of such a design . The second photocathode and both phosphor surfaces are deposited on the fiber plate substrates . The photocathode sensitivities S , phosphor efficiencies P , and anode potentials V of the individual stages shall be distinguished by means of subscripts /1 , and /2 , in the text , where required . Both stages are assumed to have unity magnification . THEORETICAL DISCUSSION OF FLUX GAIN FLUX GAIN OF A SINGLE STAGE The luminous gain of a single stage with **f ( flux gain ) is , to a first approximation , given by the product of the photocathode sensitivity S ( amp/lumen ) , the anode potential V ( volts ) , and the phosphor conversion efficiency P ( lumen-watt ) . In general , P is a function of V and the current density , but it shall here be assumed as a constant . The luminous efficiency **f of a photocathode depends on the maximum radiant sensitivity **f and on the spectral distribution of the incident light **f by the relation : **f where **f … normalized radiant photocathode sensitivity . **f … standard visibility function . The luminous flux gain of a single stage is given by : **f If the input light distribution falls beyond the visible range , **f as expected , since **f . Such cases are not considered here . EFFICIENCY OF FIBER COUPLERS The efficiency of fiber optics plates depends on four factors : ( A ) numerical aperture ( N.A. ) . ( B ) end ( Fresnel reflection ) losses ( R ) . ( C ) internal losses ( I.L. ) . ( D ) packing efficiency ( F.R. ) . The numerical aperture of the fibers is given by : **f where **f . The angle **f is measured in the medium of index **f . Settled phosphors , as generally used in image intensifiers , have low optical contact with the substrate surface , hence **f shall be assumed . The numerical aperture should be in general close to unity . This condition can be satisfied , e.g. , with **f and **f or equivalent glass combinations . A sufficiently good approximation for determining the end reflection losses R can be obtained from the angle independent Fresnel formula : **f For phosphor to fiber and fiber to air surfaces , and assuming **f , we obtain **f percent . This value may be reduced to 4.6 percent by means of a ( very thin ) glass layer of index 1.5 . Hence , the **f factor for the output fiber coupler is **f . As the index of refraction of photosensitive surfaces of the SbCs-type lies around 2 , the Fresnel losses at the fiber-photocathode interface are about 0.5 percent and the **f factor for the interstage coupler is 0.95 . It might be anticipated that multiple coatings will reduce end reflection losses even further . The internal losses are due to absorption and the small but finite losses suffered in the numerous internal reflections due to deviations from the prescribed , cylindrical fiber cross-section and minute imperfections of the core-jacket interface . These losses depend on fiber diameter and length , absorption coefficient , the mean value of the loss per internal reflection and last but not least , on the angular distribution of the incident light . Explicit expressions ( integral averages ) are given in the literature . Lacking reliable data for some of the variables , we are relying on experimental data of about 20 percent internal losses for 1/4-inch long , small ( 5-10m ) diameter fibers . This relatively high value is probably due to the small fiber diameters increasing the number of internal reflections . Since we are considering here relatively small diameter ( 1-1.5 inches ) fiber plates , their average thickness can be kept below 1/4 inch and their internal losses may be assumed as 15 percent ( per plate ) . The packing efficiency , F.R. , of fiber plates did not receive much attention in the literature , probably as it is high for the larger fibers generally used , until rather recently . For circular fibers in a closely packed hexagonal array , the packing efficiency is given by : **f where **f , and 0.906 is the ratio of the area of a circle to that of the circumscribed hexagon . For the small diameter fibers now technically feasible and required for about 100 **f resolution , **f . The cladding thickness is about 0.5m , hence , **f and **f . Thus , the efficiency t couplers is given by — **f or approximately 50 percent each . It must be remembered that the fiber plates replace a glass window and a ( mica ) membrane , in addition to an optical output lens system . The efficiency **f of an **f lens at the magnification **f is : **f Neglecting absorption , the end losses of the coupling membrane and the output window **f would be 6 percent and 8 percent . Thus , the combined efficiency of the elements replaced by the two fiber plates ( with a combined efficiency of 0.25 ) is 0.043 or about six times less than that of the two fiber plates . GAIN OF FIBER COUPLED IMAGE INTENSIFIERS Including the brightness gain **f due to the **f area demagnification , the overall gain of a fiber coupled double stage image intensifier is : **f It is obvious that the careful choice of photocathode which maximizes **f for a given input E ( in the case of the second stage , for the first phosphor screen emission ) is very important . The same consideration should govern the choice of the second-stage phosphor screen for matching with the spectral sensitivity of the ultimate sensor ( e.g. , photographic emulsion ) . We have evaluated the " matching integrals " for two types of photocathodes ( S-11 and S-20 ) and three types of light input . The input light distributions considered are P-11 and P-20 phosphor emission and the so-called " night light " ( N.L. ) as given by H.W. Babcock and J. J. Johnson . The integrals ( in units ) are listed in table 14-/1 , below : THEORETICAL DISCUSSION OF PARAXIAL DEVICE RESOLUTION RESOLUTION LIMITATIONS IN A SINGLE STAGE The resolution limitations for a single stage are given by the inherent resolution of the electron optical system as well as the resolution capabilities of the cathodoluminescent viewing screen . The resolution capabilities of an electrostatic system depend on both the choice of magnification and chromatic aberrations . It has been stated previously that a minifying electrostatic system yields a lower resolution than a magnifying system or a system with unity magnification . Furthermore , the chromatic aberrations depend on the chosen high voltage . In general , a high anode voltage reduces chromatic aberrations and thus increases the obtainable resolution . The luminous gain of the discussed tube was calculated from Eq . ( 6 ) for the 16 possible combinations of S-11 and S-20 photocathodes and P-11 and P-20 phosphor screens , for night light and P-20 light input . ( The P-20 input is of interest because it corresponds roughly to the light emission of conventional X-ray fluorescent screens ) . The following efficiencies obtained from JEDEC and RCA specifications were used : **f The following table ( 14-/2 , ) lists the ( luminous ) gain values computed according to Eq . ( 6 ) with **f : The possibility of a space charge blowup of the screen crossover of the elementary electron bundles has been pointed out . It is obvious that such an influence can only be expected in the final stage of an image intensifier at rather high output levels . Space charge influences will also decrease at increased voltages . Electrostatic systems of the pseudo-symmetric type have been tested for resolution capabilities by applying electronography . A resolution of 70-80 line-pairs per millimeter appears to be feasible . The inherent resolution of a cathodoluminescent phosphor screen decreases with increasingly aggregate thickness ( with increasing anode voltage ) , decreases with decreasing porosity ( thus the advantage of cathodophoretic phosphor deposition ) and might be impaired by the normally used aluminum mirror . Thus , in general , elementary light optical effects , light scatter , and electron scatter determine the obtainable resolution limit . It should be noted that photoluminescence , due to " Bremsstrahlung " generated within the viewing screen by electron impact , appears to be important only if anode voltages in excess of 30 KV are utilized . It has been stated that settled cathodoluminescent phosphor screens may have a limiting resolution of 60 **f at high voltage values of approximately 20 KV . For the further discussion , we shall thus assume an electron optical resolution of 80 **f and phosphor screen resolution of 60 **f . The set of all decisions is called the operating policy or , more simply , the policy . An optimal policy is one which in some sense gets the best out of the process as a whole by maximizing the value of the product . There are thus three components to an optimal design problem : ( 1 ) The specification of the state of the process stream ; ( 2 ) The specification of the operating variables and the transformation they effect ; ( 3 ) The specification of the objective function of which the optimization is desired . For a chemical process the first of these might involve the concentrations of the different chemical species , and the temperature or pressure of the stream . For the second we might have to choose the volume of reactor or amount of cooling to be supplied ; the way in which the transformation of state depends on the operating variables for the main types of reactors is discussed in the next chapter . The objective function is some measure of the increase in value of the stream by processing ; it is the subject of Chapter 4 . The essential characteristic of an optimal policy when the state of the stream is transformed in a sequence of stages with no feedback was first isolated by Bellman . He recognized that whatever transformation may be effected in the first stage of an R-stage process , the remaining stages must use an optimal **f-stage policy with respect to the state resulting from the first stage , if there is to be any chance of optimizing the complete process . Moreover , by systematically varying the operating conditions in the first stage and always using the optimal **f-stage policy for the remaining stages , we shall eventually find the optimal policy for all R stages . Proceeding in this way , from one to two and from two to three stages , we may gradually build up the policy for any number . At each step of the calculation the operating variables of only one stage need be varied . To see how important this economy is , let us suppose that there are m operating variables at each stage and that the state is specified by n variables ; then the search for the maximum at any one stage will require a number of operations of order **f ( where a is some number not unreasonably large ) . To proceed from one stage to the next a sufficient number of feed states must be investigated to allow of interpolation ; this number will be of the order of **f . If , however , we are seeking the optimal R-stage policy for a given feed state , only one search for a maximum is required at the final step . Thus a number of operations of the order of **f are required . If all the operating variables were varied simultaneously , **f operations would be required to do the same job , and as R increases this increases very much more rapidly than the number of operations required by the dynamic program . But even more important than this is the fact that the direct search by simultaneously varying all operating conditions has produced only one optimal policy , namely , that for the given feed state and R stages . In contrast , the dynamic program produces this policy and a whole family of policies for any smaller number of stages . If the problem is enlarged to require a complete coverage of feed states , **f operations are needed by the dynamic program and **f by the direct search . But **f is vastly larger than R. No optimism is more baseless than that which believes that the high speed of modern digital computers allows for use of the crudest of methods in searching out a result . Suppose that **f , and that the average operation requires only **f sec . Then the dynamic program would require about a minute whereas the direct search would take more than three millennia ! The principle of optimality thus brings a vital organization into the search for the optimal policy of a multistage decision process . Bellman ( 1957 ) has annunciated in the following terms : " An optimal policy has the property that whatever the initial state and initial decision are , the remaining decisions must constitute an optimal policy with respect to the state resulting from the first decision " . This is the principle which we will invoke in every case to set up a functional equation . It appears in a form that is admirably suited to the powers of the digital computer . At the same time , every device that can be employed to reduce the number of variables is of the greatest value , and it is one of the attractive features of dynamic programming that room is left for ingenuity in using the special features of the problem to this end . 2.2 THE DISCRETE DETERMINISTIC PROCESS Consider the process illustrated in Fig. 2.1 , consisting of R distinct stages . These will be numbered in the direction opposite to the flow of the process stream , so that stage r is the rth stage from the end . Let the state of the stream leaving stage r be denoted by a vector **f and the operating variables of stage r by **f . Thus **f denotes the state of the feed to the R-stage process , and **f the state of the product from the last stage . Each stage transforms the state **f of its feed to the state **f in a way that depends on the operating variables **f . We write this **f . This transformation is uniquely determined by **f and we therefore speak of the process as deterministic . In practical situations there will be restrictions on the admissible operating conditions , and we regard the vectors as belonging to a fixed and bounded set S. The set of vectors **f constitutes the operating policy or , more briefly , the policy , and a policy is admissible if all the **f belong to S. When the policy has been chosen the state of the product can be obtained from the state of the feed by repeated application of the transformation ( 1 ) ; thus **f . The objective function , which is to be maximized , is some function , usually piecewise continuous , of the product state . Let this be denoted by **f . An optimal policy is an admissible policy **f which maximizes the objective function P. The policy may not be unique but the maximum value of P certainly is , and once the policy is specified this maximum can be calculated by ( 2 ) and ( 3 ) as a function of the feed state **f . Let **f where the maximization is over all admissible policies **f . When it is necessary to be specific we say that the optimal policy is an optimal R-stage policy with respect to the feed state **f . For any choice of admissible policy **f in the first stage , the state of the stream leaving this stage is given by **f . This is the feed state of the subsequent **f stages which , according to the principle of optimality , must use an optimal **f-stage policy with respect to this state . This will result in a value **f of the objective function , and when **f is chosen correctly this will give **f , the maximum of the objective function . Thus **f where the maximization is over all admissible policies **f , and **f is related to **f by ( 5 ) . The sequence of equations ( 6 ) can be solved for **f when **f is known , and clearly **f , the maximization being over all admissible **f . The set of equations ( 5 ) , ( 6 ) , and the starting equation ( 7 ) is of a recursive type well suited to programming on the digital computer . In finding the optimal R-stage policy from that of **f stages , only the function **f is needed . When **f has been found it may be transferred into the storage location of **f and the whole calculation repeated . We also see how the results may be presented , although if n , the number of state variables , is large any tabulation will become cumbersome . A table or set of tables may be set out as in Table 2.1 . To extract the optimal R-stage policy with respect to the feed state **f , we enter section R of this table at the state **f and find immediately from the last column the maximum value of the objective function . In the third column is given the optimal policy for stage R , and in the fourth , the resulting state of the stream when this policy is used . Since by the principle of optimality the remaining stages use an optimal **f-stage policy with respect to **f , we may enter section **f of the table at this state **f and read off the optimal policy for stage **f and the resulting state **f . Proceeding in this way up the table we extract the complete optimal policy and , if it is desired , we can check on **f by evaluating **f at the last stage . It may be that the objective function depends not only on **f but also on **f , as when the cost of the operating policy is considered . A moment 's reflection shows that the above algorithm and presentation work equally well in this case . A form of objective function that we shall often have occasion to consider is **f . Here V(p) represents the value of the stream in state p and C(q) the cost of operating the stage with conditions q . Hence P is the increase in value of the stream minus the cost of operation , that is , the net profit . If **f denotes the net profit from stage r and **f then the principle of optimality gives **f This sequence of equations may be started with the remark that with no process **f there is no profit , i.e. , **f . 2.3 THE DISCRETE STOCHASTIC PROCESS The process in which the outcome of any one stage is known only statistically is also of interest , although for chemical reactor design it is not as important as the deterministic process . In this case the stage r operating with conditions **f transforms the state of the stream from **f to **f , but only the probability distribution of **f is known . This is specified by a distribution function **f such that the probability that **f lies in some region D of the stage space is **f . We can not now speak of maximizing the value of the objective function , since this function is now known only in a probabilistic sense . We can , however , maximize its expected value . For a single stage we may define **f where the maximization is by choice of **f . We thus have an optimal policy which maximizes the expected value of the objective function for a given **f . If we consider a process in which the outcome of one stage is known before passage to the next , then the principle of optimality shows that the policy in subsequent stages should be optimal with respect to the outcome of the first . Then **f , the maximization being over all admissible **f and the integration over the whole of stage space . The type of presentation of results used in the deterministic process may be used here , except that now the fourth column is redundant . The third column gives the optimal policy , but we must wait to see the outcome of stage R and enter the preceding section of the table at this state . The discussion of the optimal policy when the outcome of one stage is not known before passing to the next is a very much more difficult matter . 2.4 THE CONTINUOUS DETERMINISTIC PROCESS In many cases it is not possible to divide the process into a finite number of discrete stages , since the state of the stream is transformed in a continuous manner through the process . We replace r , the number of the stage from the end of the process , by t , a continuous variable which measures the " distance " of the point considered from the end of the process . The word distance is used here in a rather general sense ; it may in fact be the time that will elapse before the end of the process . If T is the total " length " of the process , its feed state may be denoted by a vector p(T) and the product state by p(O). p(t) denotes the state at any point t and q(t) the vector of operating variables there . A gyro-stabilized platform system , using restrained gyros , is well suited for automatic leveling because of the characteristics of the gyro-platform-servo combination . The restrained gyro-stabilized platform with reasonable response characteristics operates with an approximate equation of motion , neglecting transient effects , as follows : **f where U is a torque applied about the output axis of the controlling gyro . The platform angle f is the angle about which the gyro is controlling . This is normally termed the gyro input axis , 90° away from the gyro output or j axis . The gyro angular momentum is defined by H. Thus if the gyro and platform-controller combination maintains the platform with zero angular deviation about the f axis , the system can be rotated with an angular velocity **f if a torque is supplied to the gyro output axis j . It is assumed that the gyros are designed with electrical torquers so that a torque can be applied about their output axes . In the system shown in Fig. 7-1 , the accelerometer output is amplified and the resulting voltage is applied to the gyro output-axis torquer . This torque causes the entire system to rotate about the f axis , since the response to **f . If the polarities are correct , the platform rotates in such a direction as to reduce the accelerometer output to zero . As the accelerometer output is decreasing , the torque applied to the gyro output axis decreases and , therefore , the rate decreases . Finally , when the accelerometer output is zero , the entire system remains stationary , and the platform is , by definition , leveled . A mathematical block diagram for the leveling system is shown in Fig. 7-2 . The platform is initially off level by the angle f . The angle generated by the platform servo f multiplied by g is the effective acceleration acting on the accelerometer. **f is the scale factor of the accelerometer ( **f ) . The voltage **f is amplified by **f and applied to the gyro torquer with scale factor **f . Finally , the gyro-stabilized platform characteristic is represented by **f The system as indicated in Fig. 7-2 is fundamental and simple because the transient effects of both the platform servo and the accelerometer have been neglected . With these factors included , an upper limit is placed on the allowable loop gain by stability considerations . In this type of system , a high loop gain is desirable because it provides a fast response time . When the frequency response characteristics of practical components are considered , their effect on stability does not present the most serious limit on the system loop gain . The time required for the system to reach a level position is approximately inversely proportional to the servo loop gain . In addition , the cutoff frequency for input accelerations is approximately proportional to the servo loop gain ; i.e. , high loop gain causes the system to respond to horizontal components of accelerations . This problem usually determines the lower limit of loop gain rather than response time . It must be noticed in Fig. 7-1 that the accelerometer responds to any input acceleration . The equation relating input acceleration to output platform angle is **f In practice , the preflight leveling process takes place with the system mounted in the airframe . When the system is arranged for automatic leveling , the platform angles respond to any horizontal components of acceleration acting on the accelerometers . There are many such components of acceleration present due to the effect of wind gusts , engine noise , turbulence around the vehicle , etc . One of the greatest problems associated with automatic leveling is establishing a true level in the presence of high-level acceleration noise . One solution to the problem is to operate with a low loop gain and to include low-pass filters . This technique causes the system to respond only to low frequency acceleration components such as the platform tilt . Since a lower loop gain and low-pass filtering increases the response time , a practical compromise must be reached . One of the most desirable solutions is achieved by the use of a non-linear amplifier for **f . The amplifier is designed so that its gain is large for accelerometer signals above a certain threshold level . Below this level , the amplifier gain **f is proportional and is of small value , in order to provide adequate noise filtering . The effect is that the platform returns from an off-level position at a rapid rate until it is nearly level , at which point the platform is controlled by a proportional servo with low enough frequency response so that the noise has little effect on the leveling process . When the system is on automatic leveling , the gyro drift is canceled by the output of the leveling system ( amplifier **f ) . The platform actually tilts off level so that the accelerometer output , when amplified by **f , will supply the correct current to the gyro torquer to cancel the gyro drift . The amount of platform dip required depends upon the scale factors of the system . 7-3 . PRACTICAL LEVELING CONSIDERATIONS . The automatic leveling system described in this section is readily adaptable to a gyro-stabilized platform consisting of three integrating gyros . The system requires some switching of flight equipment circuits . However , the leveling operation can be maintained and controlled remotely with no mechanical or optical contact with the platform . This leveling system will hold the platform on-level , automatically , as long as the system is actuated . A useful by-product of this system is that the information necessary to set the gyro drift biases is available from the currents necessary to hold the system in level . The leveling process can be accomplished manually , and the results are as satisfactory as those obtained with automatic equipment . The process consists in turning the platform manually until the outputs of both accelerometers are zero . The turning is accomplished by applying voltage to the gyro torquers described above . In brief , the human replaces amplifier **f in Figs. 7-1 and 7-2 . Manual leveling requires an appropriate display of the accelerometer outputs . If high accuracy is required in preflight leveling , it is usually necessary to integrate or doubly integrate the accelerometer outputs ( this also minimizes the noise problem ) . With integration , the effect of a small acceleration ( or small platform tilt angle ) can be seen after a time . However , skill is required on the part of an operator to level a platform to any degree of accuracy . Also , it requires more time as compared to the automatic approach . Manual leveling is inconvenient if the platform must be maintained accurately level for any prolonged period of time . The operator must continually supply the correct amount of turning current to the gyro torquers so that the effect of gyro drift is canceled . This process is especially difficult since gyro drifting is typically random . 7-4 . PLATFORM HEADING . Platform heading consists of orienting the sensitive axis of the accelerometers parallel to the desired coordinate system of the navigator . In simpler terms , it amounts to pointing the platform in the proper direction . For purely inertial navigators , two techniques are available to accomplish the platform heading : 1 . Use of external or surveying equipment to establish proper heading . 2 . Use of the characteristics of the platform components for an indication of true heading The choice of the heading technique is dependent upon the accuracy requirements , field conditions , and the time available to accomplish the heading . 7-5 . EXTERNAL DETERMINATION OF HEADING — SURVEYING TECHNIQUE . With the gyro-stabilized platform leveled , it can be headed in the proper direction by using surveying techniques . The platform accelerometers must be slightly modified for this procedure . Before the accelerometers are mounted on the platform , the direction of their sensitive axis must be accurately determined . A mirror is mounted on each accelerometer so that the plane of the mirror is perpendicular to the sensitive axis of the unit . TRANSIT . A precision transit is set up so that it is aligned with respect to true north . This can be done to a high degree of accuracy by existing surveying techniques . With the transit set up , a mirror on one of the accelerometers is sighted and the platform is turned until it is aligned . The sighting procedure includes the use of a fixture for the transit to project a beam of light , which is darkened by crossed hairs , on the accelerometer mirror . When the platform is aligned , the reflected image of the crossed hairs can be seen exactly superimposed upon the original crossed hairs . The images can easily be aligned with a high degree of accuracy . The platform is turned as required by supplying currents to the appropriate gyro torquers . Although this technique is simple and satisfactory , one practical difficulty does exist : the direction of true north must be known for each launch point . However , this difficulty is not too serious if it is realized that a surveying team can establish a true north base line with a few days ' work . In many installations , the inertial platform is raised off the ground a considerable height when it is mounted in the vehicle before flight . With this situation , it is difficult to sight in on the platform with surveying equipment . If the platform is not too high off the ground , a transit can be mounted on a stand to raise it up to the platform . Obviously , the heading accuracy is lessened by such techniques since errors are introduced because of motion of the stand . AUTOCOLLIMATOR . The transit can be replaced by an autocollimator . This instrument provides an electrical signal proportional to the angular deviations of the platform and can be used to automatically hold the platform on true heading . The electrical signal from the autocollimator is amplified and supplied to the Z-gyro torquer . If the polarity is correct , the platform will turn until the heading error angle is zero . Information is also available from this autocollimator system to set the drift bias for the Z-axis gyro . If the Z gyro is drifting , a current generated by the autocollimator is delivered to the gyro torquer to cancel the drift . If the drift error is systematic , it can be canceled with a bias circuit which can be arranged and adjusted to supply the required compensating current . ELECTRICAL PICKOFFS . It is possible to locate an angular electrical pickoff , which will indicate the angular deviation between the true heading direction and the platform . Essentially , the stator or reference portion of the pickoff is established with respect to the true heading direction , and the platform is turned either manually or automatically until the angular electrical pickoff signal is reduced to zero . 7-6 . GYROCOMPASS HEADING . Gyrocompass alignment is an automatic heading system which depends upon the characteristic of one gyro to establish true heading . For the case of a purely inertial autonavigator consisting of three restrained gyros , a coordinate system is used where the sensitive axis of the X accelerometer is parallel to the east-west direction at the base point , and the Y accelerometer sensitive axis is parallel to the north-south direction at the base point . The accelerometers are mounted rigidly on the platform . Thus , if one accelerometer is properly aligned , the other is also . The input axis of the appropriate gyros are parallel to the sensitive direction of the accelerometers . Figure 7-3 shows a platform system with the gyro vectors arranged as described above . The platform is leveled and properly headed , so that the X-gyro input axis is parallel to the east-west direction and the Y-gyro input axis is parallel to the north-south direction . The input axis of the X gyro , when pointing in the east-west direction , is always perpendicular to the spin axis of earth . If the platform is not properly headed , the X-gyro input axis will see a component of the earth 's rotation . The sensing of this rotation by the X gyro can be utilized to direct the platform into proper heading . In Fig. 7-4 , the input axis of the three-axis platform is shown at some point on the earth . The point is at a latitude l , and the platform is at an error in heading east . The earth is spinning at an angular velocity q equal to one revolution per 24 hr . When the platform is level , e is a rotation about the Z axis of the platform **f . Since the earth is rotating and the unleveled gyro-stabilized platform is fixed with respect to a reference in space , an observer on the earth will see the platform rotating ( with respect to the earth ) . text