says the marriage was "in all respects a happy one, so far as congeniality of nature and mutual regard could go."

"My mother was the most profoundly and sincerely religious woman with whom I was ever intimately acquainted, and my father always entertained and expressed the highest admiration for her mental gifts, to which he attributed whatever talents his children might have possessed. The unfitness of her environment to her constitution is the saddest memory of my childhood. More I do not trust myself to say to the public, nor will the reader expect more of me."

How Newcomb's early years were passed may perhaps be conjectured from the fact that the auto-biographical chapter in which he records them bears the title of "The World of Cold and Darkness." He had, however, from his earliest years a keen desire for knowledge, and read whatever books were available. His first introduction to the intellectual career he desired was not promising. In those days there was a so-called physician, Dr. Foshay, living near Moncton, who was reputed to have effected cures of sick persons given up by other doctors. As Newcomb says, "Diomeds of the medical profession before whose shafts all forms of disease had to fall were then very generally supposed to be realities." By the intervention of an aunt, young Newcomb agreed to live with the doctor, rendering him all assistance in preparing medicines, while the doctor, on his part, undertook to supply Newcomb's bodily needs and teach him "the botanic system of medicine." After a little experience it began to dawn upon Newcomb that Dr. Foshay, notwithstanding his boasted medical skill, was no more than an ignorant pretender, and that the time of his assistant would be utterly wasted instead of being, as he expected, expended on studying bot

any and scientific medicine. So on September 13, 1853, Newcomb determined to run away after leaving a letter for the doctor, in which he explained that, as the doctor had shown no indication of fulfilling his promises, his assistant felt that the arrangement was annulled. Newcomb was on the road before daybreak, and walked until late at night, ever fearing pursuit from the doctor. It appears that the doctor did actually attempt a pursuit, but, by good fortune, Newcomb eluded recapture, and at last reached a house where he was hospitably entertained. "Thus ended," he says, "a day which I have always looked back to as the most memorable in my life."

After a week of hardship, which Newcomb says he will not harrow the feelings of the reader by describing, he arrived at Calais, where he found a boat bound for Salem. The little money that he had in his pocket was less than the price of the passage, but he undertook to supplement the deficiency by working his way. A few months later we find him engaged as a teacher in a school at a place called Massey's Cross Roads, in Kent County, and devoting every spare hour to reading whatever mathematical books he could obtain. His first appearance as an author was in refutation of a Mr. Eveleth, who doubted the Copernican system, and Newcomb published in the National Intelligencer an exposition of the fallacies in the paradoxer's essay. In 1856 he was teaching in the family of a planter, near Washington, and on a visit to the library of the Smithsonian Institution he was delighted to see among the mathematical books the greatest treasure that his imagination had ever pictured, a work that he had thought of almost as belonging to fairyland-Laplace's "Mécanique Céleste." Shortly afterwards he summoned up enough cour

age to seek for an interview with Prof. Henry, who suggested that he should look for some position in the Coast Survey, and his reception by Mr. Hilgard was such that Newcomb writes: -"I found from my first interview with him that the denizens of the world of light were up to the most sanguine conceptions I ever could have formed." Mr. Hilgard introduced him to Prof. Winlock, of Cambridge, Mass., and thus in 1857 he entered "the world of sweetness and light" by becoming one of the computers in "The American Ephemeris and Nautical Almanac."

From this time the progress of Newcomb to the height of astronomical fame was unchecked. Dr. Gould, the well-known astronomer, wrote to tell him that there was a vacancy in the Corps of Professors of Mathematics attached to the Naval Observatory at Washington, and suggested that he might like the post. Newcomb at first was disinclined to consider the proposition. Cambridge seemed to him the focus of the science and learning of his country. He also rather shrank from what he called the drudgery of night work in the observatory, for he considered that it would interfere with the mathematical investigations which he was specially interested; but he finally decided to apply, and a month later, September, 1861, was much gratified in receiving the appointment duly signed by Abraham Lincoln. Newcomb accordingly settled in Washington, where he married, in 1863, Mary Caroline, daughter of Dr. C. A. Hassler, U. S. Navy, and three daughters were the issue of the marriage.

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In the winter of 1870 Mr. Cyrus Field, of Atlantic cable fame, had a small dinner-party at the Arlington Hotel, Washington. A young son of Mr. Field's was present, who had spent the day in seeing the sights of Washington. The youth described his visit to the observatory, and expressed

his surprise in not finding any large telescope. The guests were at first incredulous, but, finding that the statement was true, a senator who was present declared that this must be rectified, and in due course Alvan Clark and Sons were entrusted with the manufacture of a great objective of 26inches aperture.

Newcomb was specially interested in this enterprise, because, as he says, "the work of reconstructing the tables of the planets, which I had long before mapped out as the greatest one in which I should engage, required as exact a knowledge as could be obtained of the masses of all the planets. In the case of Uranus and Neptune, the two other planets, this knowledge could best be obtained by observations on their satellites. To the latter my attention was therefore directed." In 1875 the instrument was given over to Prof. Asaph Hall, and of course it has become forever famous as the means by which Hall made his beautiful discovery of the two satellites of Mars.

In Newcomb's "Reminiscences" we find, in a chapter on "The Author's Scientific Work," a most interesting sketch of the great problems to the solution of which his life's work was devoted. It appears that the first important investigation on which he entered in his early years at Cambridge, Mass., related to the orbits of the asteroids. This particular investigation discussed the theory that these bodies originated as fragments of a large planet broken up by some cataclysm. It involved an extended examination of the secular perturbations of the orbits of the asteroids to determine whether at any epoch even hundreds of thousands of years ago all the orbits passed through one point, though by the influence of perturbations they have now ceased to do so. The investigation seems to show that no such

cataclysm as that looked for ever occurred, and that each of the asteroids has been a separate body since the solar system came into existence.

Another problem which shows the lines of thought habitually present to Newcomb may be thus stated. Do the mutual attractions of the sun, planets, and satellites completely explain all the motions in the solar system? or, as he expressed it, "Does any world move otherwise than as it is attracted by other worlds?" This opens up two great researches: first, in bringing the labors of astronomers together so as to determine with the utmost accuracy the actual movements of the heavenly bodies, and, second, in securing all attainable perfection in the mathematical methods employed in their examination. A very important branch of this inquiry is presented by the movements of the moon. Such an investigation as Newcomb sketched out had a stimulating effect on the discussion of old and valuable observations of the positions of the moon deduced from ancient eclipses, and much of Newcomb's best work was done in connection with the lunar theory.

On

In 1875 Newcomb was offered the position in Harvard University which is now filled with such distinction by Prof. Pickering, but he declined this offer after careful consideration. September 15, 1877, he was appointed editor of "The American Ephemeris and Nautical Almanac." He tells us that "the change was one of the happiest of my life. I was now in a position of recognized responsibility where my recommendations met with the respect due to that responsibility, where I could make plans with the assurance of being able to carry them out." He approached the duties of this office in the loftiest spirit, and devoted his energies to the task of improving the fundamental constants employed.

With this object in view, ex

tensive investigations in various parts of dynamical astronomy had to be undertaken. His efforts were unremitting to improve at every point the processes of calculation, as well as the materials on which the calculations were based. Among the greatest of Newcomb's labors, measured by their value to science, are, undoubtedly, those done in connection with this office. Astronomers all over the world recognize "The Astronomical Papers of the American Ephemeris" brought out under Newcomb's guidance as works of classical value. In this great task he had the good fortune to obtain the assistance of many eminent men, among whom was Mr. George W. Hill, who, in Newcomb's generous words, "will easily rank as the greatest master of mathematical astronomy during the last quarter of the nineteenth century." Newcomb's important "Compendium of Spherical Astronomy," published in 1906, should also be mentioned in connection with the "Astronomical Papers." After his term of service in the office of the American Ephemeris had expired in 1883 by the age-limit, Newcomb became professor of mathematics and astronomy in Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, and this post he held until 1893.

As in the case of other men who have risen to a foremost position in science, Newcomb was wonderfully versatile. He was, as we have seen, a leader among mathematical astronomers, he did good work on various occasions in practical observation, and that he was a skilful experimenter when occasion required is shown by his beautiful investigations of the velocity of light; but Newcomb also wrote a number of books intended more for the general public than for technical astronomers. His "Popular Astronomy" is universally recognized as an admirable work full of lofty thought

and luminous suggestion. It is remarkable for its literary grace no less than for its scientific accuracy, and those who had the privilege of enjoying Prof. Newcomb's friendship will recognize throughout "Popular Astronomy" indications of that quaint humor which was so characteristic of the author. He wrote many other books; he was recognized as an authority on economics and life assurance, and he éven wrote a novel, though I do not know whether this particular venture was sufficiently successful to encourage a repetition of the experiment. All the honors which his own country or other countries could bestow on a man of science were liberally showered on him with universal approval.

It need hardly be said that for a self-taught man to become one of the most consummate mathematicians of his day, and one of the great leaders of science, not only great abilities, but indomitable industry were necessary. Newcomb was worker. From morning until night he

Nature.

an indefatigable

was at his desk, and yet such was the kindliness of the man that when a demand on his time and friendship was made by a brother astronomer or mathematician, his books were laid aside, and he would devote himself assiduously to a day of gracious offices for his visitor. Newcomb had a serious illness about fifteen years ago, but he made a remarkable recovery, and until the last few months he was still hard at work. He died after a long illness on July 11, 1909.

Thus passes from the world the most conspicuous figure among the brilliant band of contemporary American astronomers. His inspiring example will long be treasured by those who were acquainted with his work. His habitual loftiness of thought, nobility of character, dignified courtesy, and everready helpfulness endeared him to his many friends on both sides of the Atlantic. His private acts of quiet kindness and goodness of heart will be affectionately cherished by those fortunate persons to whom they are known. Robert S. Ball.

The return of the British Fleet to its ancient quarters in the Thames has given the greatest city multitude the world has ever known the kind of pageant which it most enjoys. Keen as was the pleasure, the intellectual directors of our nation have contributed little enough to the more refined and reflective aspects of it. We, who almost bar out English history from our schools and universities, and when we teach its literature present the tongue that Shakespeare spoke as a puzzle in Anglo-Saxon philology, cannot complain if the mass of the people who went to see the fleet took their main view of its story and development from the street hawkers. Not a

great number, we suspect, could recall the name of Blake; not many schoolboys of the upper and middle classes, fully instructed on the tactics of Themistocles at Salamis, could describe those of Nelson at Aboukir. For a people so self-centred, so full of the pride of achievement as our own, we are singularly lacking in the historic sense. This is the reason why, when the Englishman's past is recalled to him through some striking symbol of his present power, he misses the thrill that comes from the knowledge of who sowed the seed and how the flower was raised. To-day that thrill is especially hard to capture. Nothing, or very little, of our famous sea his

tory belongs to the period of the modern navy. None of these great shooting platforms, practically devoid of masts or sails, divided into self-contained steel castles, and worked, not by sailors so much as by engineers and skilled mechanics, almost blindly obeying the call of the "fire-control" from above, have ever figured in a great naval fight. They are the children of modern science, of engineering and mathematics, of carefully thought out theories of warfare which leave little initiative to the fighting chieftains. Every British war-ship within two thousand miles of London, says Mr. Arnold White, is hung by invisible threads on to its strategic master in Whitehall, and in time of war would come and go, fight or fly, in obedience to the war-director's commands, much as if they were pieces on a chessboard. But all these conditions are untried, and their working can only be dimly guessed. The wooden hulks, whose still beautiful shapes adorn the mouths and lower reaches of our English rivers recall all the substantial glories of the British Navy-glories sustained, not merely in years, but in centuries of warfare. Yet a single modern second-class cruiser could sink every ship that fought at Trafalgar.

And what will happen twenty or thirty years hence to the fleet that occupies forty miles of Thames water? Will it ever see a naval war? Will there ever be a naval war as we imagine it? The development is already rapid beyond all previous experience. There is less difference between the ships that hung on the skirts of the Armada and those which fought at Navarino than between the ironclads which bombarded Alexandria and the new Temeraire. Already the critics of the fleet talk of the "Dreadnought” as a "back number." What will be its successor? Mr. Wells's airships? Or some shapeless mass of floating iron

pouring out, not 850 lb. shells, but explosives powerful enough to destroy a "Dreadnought" or a dozen "Dreadnoughts" with one impact? Already one type of ship succeeds another so rapidly that the "tail" of a big fleet of war-vessels like our own is always being cut off because the head has outgrown it and destroyed or greatly qualified its usefulness. From "Majestics" to "King Edwards," from "King Edwards" to "Dreadnoughts," from "Dreadnoughts" to "SuperDreadnoughts"-each new step has been taken more quickly than its predecessor, until the eye of the naval sensationalist is now fixed not so much on something fresh in ships as on the possibilities of an engine of death and destruction, able to make all ships obsolete, and to involve attackers and defenders, experts, admirals, and mere common lives in universal ruin. Thus, in the very hour of seeming stability and overpowering mechanical force, the increasing volatility and subtlety. of the mind of man create an atmos phere of complete uncertainty. Who can talk confidently of the balance of power when it may be possible for a clever chemist to alter it decisively in the interest of this Power or that, even to destroy or largely to modify the distinction between Powers that can defend themselves and those that rely more or less on the good graces or the written covenants of their neighbors? What may be the result of the next daring "bore" into the innermost depths of Nature's secrets? So, like an unsubstantial pageant faded, the solid marvels of the Thames may pass away within the vision of a single generation, as the eye of faith presumes even greater wonders to pass before the unchanging gaze of the Eternal.

An outlook like this clearly confuses merely material calculations, and brings us back almost by necessity to