The next point was to ascertain to what rays the effect was due. The spores of anthrax are so minute that, when mixed in large numbers with gelatine, they do not affect its transparency, A plate of glass coated with the mixture is at first clear, but ceases to be so if kept in the dark, owing to the germination of the spores. Ward found, in fact, that a photograph could be printed with it, the darkening being the reverse of that of a silver plate. After experiments with coloured screens he completely solved the problem in 1893, with the aid of apparatus supplied by Sir Oliver Lodge and some advice from Sir Gabriel Stokes, by photographing the spectrum on such a plate. It was at once seen that the destructive effect was due to rays of high refrangibility, and, what was extremely important, extended to, and found its maximum in, the ultra-violet. The same results were obtained with the typhoid bacillus. He made the suggestion that the arc light might be used for the disinfection of hospitals and railway carriages.
Comparatively little was known of the life history of any Schizomycete. Ward therefore made a detailed and exhaustive study of that of Bacillus ramosus, the Wurzel bacillus of German authors, which is common in Thames water, and bears a superficial resemblance to the anthrax bacillus, but is innocuous. It proved convenient for study, as it ran through its entire life history in from thirty to sixty hours at ordinary temperature. It forms long filaments, the growth of which Ward was able to measure under the microscope with great precision. On plotting out his measurements he obtained a regular curve, from which he found that, under constant conditions, the filament doubled itself in equal times. This he called "the law of doubling." It is the same as the so-called "law of compound interest," and leads to the expression of the growing quantity as an exponential function of the time, so that the time is proportional to the logarithm of that quantity. This relation has, of course, long been familiar in chemical reactions, but, as far as I know, Ward was the first to detect it in any vital process in a plant. This, which was in 1895, has, I think, been overlooked. Stefanowska has since, in 1904, obtained a logarithmic curve for the early period of the growth of maize, which doubles its weight every ten days, and the subject has since been pursued by Chodat and others.
In speculating on the cause of the destructive action of light on bacteria, Ward adopted the view of his friend Elfving, that it inhibited metabolic processes necessary to nutrition. He suggests that the "constructed metabolites" at the moment of assimilation are in a highly unstable condition, and liable to destruction by oxidation promoted by light. He points to the fact that plant structures are frequently provided with colour screens, which would cut off the blue-violet rays and check their action in promoting the rapid oxidation of reserve materials, and he quotes the suggestion of Elfving that chlorophyll itself may serve as such a screen against "destructive metabolic action in synthesis." Ward seems to have attributed little importance to the fact that substantially the same view had long before been put forward by Pringsheim, though received with little favour. His own view that when red and orange predominate in the screens their effect is protective, has since afforded a probable explanation of the colouration of young foliage, especially in the tropics.
It can hardly be doubted that the upshot of Ward's laborious investigations has had a powerful influence in deciding the policy of the future water supply of London. If we hear nothing now of obtaining it from Wales, it is because we know that even polluted flood-water if exposed in large reservoirs will rid itself of its bacterial contamination, partly, as was known already, by subsidence, but most effectually, as shown by Ward, by the destruction of its most deleterious constituents by the direct action of sunlight.
In 1895, Ward was called to the Chair of Botany at Cambridge. He was supported by a distinguished body of fellow-workers, and developed a flourishing school, in which every branch of the science found its scope. The University erected for it an institute which is probably the best equipped in the country, and in March, 1904, I had the pleasure of seeing Ward receive the King and Queen at its inauguration.
During the later years of Ward's life he returned to the study of the Uredineae. The scourge of wheat perhaps from the dawn of agriculture has been "Rust,"
"Ut mala culmos esset rubigo ... intereunt segetes";
and the loss inflicted by it throughout the world is probably not calculable. But the history of the Ceylon coffee disease is only too patent an instance of the injury a uredine can effect.
Eriksson, the most recent authority on the subject, had found himself quite unable to account for sudden outbursts of rust which it did not seem possible to attribute to the result of infection. In 1897 he launched his celebrated theory of the Mycoplasm. He supposed that a cereal subject to rust was permanently diseased and always had been; that the protoplasm of the Uredo-parasite and of the cereal, though discrete, were intermingled and were continuously propagated together; but that while that of the latter was continuously active, that of the former might be latent till called into activity by conditions which favoured it. Ward discussed the theory in his British Association address at Toronto, and was evidently a good deal impressed with it, but nothing short of actual demonstration ever convinced him; and when he proceeded to investigate the actual histological facts on which the theory rested he promptly exploded it.
It is interesting to note that Ward, as I know from correspondence at the time, had himself been embarrassed in investigating the Ceylon coffee disease by the same kind of appearance which had misled Eriksson. It is due to an optical fallacy. When the hypha of a uredine attacks a cell it is unable to perforate it with its whole diameter. It infects it, however, with a reduced and slender filament; this expands again after perforation into a rounded body, the haustorium. In a tangential section the perforating filament cannot be distinguished, and the haustorium looks like an independent body immersed in the cell-protoplasm and with no external connection. It requires a fortunate normal section to reveal what has really taken place. Ward was accordingly able, in a paper in the Phil. Trans. in 1903, to dispose conclusively of the mycoplasm. This cleared the ground of an untenable hypothesis. The complicated nature of the problem which still presented itself for investigation can only be briefly indicated. Sir Joseph Banks, whose scientific instinct was sound but curiously inarticulate, had pointed out that the spores entered the stomata, and warned farmers against using rusted litter. Henslow, one of Ward's predecessors in the Cambridge chair, had been confirmed by Tulasne in showing that the uredo-and puccinia-spores (of the barberry) belonged to the same fungus. De Bary traced the germination of the spores and the mode in which the hyphae invaded the host; the fundamental fact, which he observed but did not explain, was that the germinal filament, after growing for a time superficially, bent down to enter the tissues of its host. Pfeffer in 1883 discovered chemotaxis, the directive action of chemical substances on the movement of mobile organisms. De Bary had previously hinted that the hypha might be attracted by some chemical ingredient of the host plant. Myoshi, a pupil of Pfeffer's, showed finally in 1894 that if a plant were injected by a chemotropic substance a fungus-hypha not ordinarily parasitic might be made to behave as such and attack it.
In such circumstances it might seem that the host was not merely incapable of resisting invasion by the parasite but actually invited its attack. Nature is, however, not easily baffled in the struggle for existence. Attack provokes new methods of defence. Ward soon found himself face to face with "problems of great complexity," and these occupied the closing years of his life.
It had been ascertained in fact that the rust fungus is not, as was at first supposed, a single organism, but comprises, according to Eriksson, thirteen distinct species, each with physiological varieties, and that those which are destructive to some grasses and cereals, are incapable of attacking others. This necessitated a scrutiny of the nature of grass-immunity. In a paper communicated to the Cambridge Philosophical Society in 1902, Ward announced a conclusion which was as important as it was unexpected. He had more and more made use of the graphical method for presenting to the eye at a glance the result of a mass of separate observations. In this case he uses it with striking effect. He shows conclusively, as far as rust in brome-grasses is concerned, that: "The capacity for infection, or for resistance to infection, is independent of the anatomical structure of the leaf, and must depend on some other internal factor or factors in the plant."
Finally, he is led to the conclusion that "it is in the domain of the invisible biological properties of the living cell that we must expect the phenomena to reside." He pointed out the probability that light would be thrown on this from the action of chemotaxis, on the one hand, and from that of toxins and antitoxins in animal organisms on the other. This is a most fertile conception, which would, however, have required a good deal of verification, and this, unhappily, he did not live to attempt. But with characteristic ingenuity he pointed out the analogy between the infective capacity of uredospores and the prepotency of pollen, which had previously engaged the attention of Darwin. In a paper published in the following year in the Berlin Annales Mycologici, he announced a no less significant result. With his usual thoroughness in research he had cultivated side by side at Cambridge more than two hundred species and varieties of Bromus, and had watched the degree to which they were infected by rust under identical conditions. He found that though in the brome-grasses the rust peculiar to them is specifically identical its forms are highly specialised. The form which attacks the species of one group will not attack those of another. Host and parasite are mutually "attuned." He termed this "adaptive parasitism." This raised the problem, which had first occurred to him in Ceylon, of how a parasite adapted to species of "one circle of alliance" can pass to those of another. Occasionally it happens that a uredo-form will infect a species where it ordinarily fails. In such a case "its uredospore progeny will thenceforth readily infect that species." Ward regarded this as a case of education. Working on this principle, he succeeded by growing the parasite successively on a series of allied species which were imperfectly resistant, to ultimately educate it to attack a species hitherto immune. He called these "bridgeing species." He established, in fact, a complete parallelism between the behaviour of rust-fungi and that of pathogenic organisms in animals.
In the midst of this far-reaching research his health began to fail. In 1904 he had been appointed by the Council to represent the Royal Society at the International Congress of Botany held at Vienna in June of the following year. This he attended, though more seriously ill than he was aware of. On his way back he spent three weeks for treatment at Carlsbad, but receiving no benefit, he went, on the advice of Dr Krause, to Dr von Noorden's Klinik at Sachsenhausen (Frankfort). Nothing could be done for him, and he was advised to return home by easy stages. After a period of progressive and extreme weakness, borne with unflinching courage, the end came somewhat suddenly at Torquay on August 26, 1906. He was buried at Cambridge in St Giles's Cemetery on September 3.
From 1880, the year following his degree, Ward never ceased for a quarter of a century to pour out a continuous stream of original work. This alone would be a remarkable performance, had he done nothing else. But he was constantly engaged in teaching work, and he acted as examiner in the Universities of London and Edinburgh. With no less conscientiousness he complied with the demands which the scientific world makes on its members; he served on the Councils of the Royal (1895) and Linnean (1887) Societies; he was President of the Botanical Section of the British Association at Toronto in 1897, and of the Cambridge Philosophical Society in 1904. Beyond all this he found time to give addresses with unfailing freshness of insight; a lecture at the Royal Institution on April 27, 1894, on the "Action of Light on Bacteria and Fungi" was a notable performance; he wrote numerous articles of a more popular kind, and he produced a number of excellent manuals for students on subjects connected with forest, agricultural and pathological botany. Activity so strenuous almost exceeds the limits of human possibility.
Under the influence of Sachs, Ward might have become a distinguished morphologist. But his work in Ceylon led him into a field of research from which he never deviated. A survey of his performance as a whole, such as I have attempted, has a scientific interest of its own. His research was not haphazard. A continuous and developing thread of thought runs through it all. The fundamental problem was the transference of the nutrition of one organism to the service of another. Of this, in Ceylon, Ward found himself confronted with two extreme types, and of both he made an exhaustive study. In Hemileia it was ruthless parasitism; in Strigula advantageous commensalism. Bornet put Schwendener's theory on a firm foundation when he effected the synthesis of a lichen; Ward, in another group, did the same thing for the ginger-beer plant. In such cases the partnership is beneficial. The problem is to trace the process by which one partner gets the upper hand and becomes merely predatory. Ward inherited a strong taste for music, though I believe he never cultivated it. A musical simile may not inappropriately be applied to his work. In its whole it presents itself to me as a symphony in which the education of protoplasm is a recurring leit-motiv.
A few words must be said as to his personal characteristics. He had all the qualifications for the kind of research to which he devoted himself. He was singularly dexterous and skilful in manipulation. He was a refined and accomplished draughtsman, and was therefore able to do himself justice by illustration. He was rigorous in demanding exhaustive proof. This almost deteriorated into a defect. He would pursue every side issue which presented itself in a research, and was quite content if it led to nothing. He would say in such a case: "I will not leave a stone unturned." He was apt, too, I think, to attack a problem in too generalised a form. In his nitrogen work it always seemed to me that he wasted energy on remote possibilities, when a clean-cut line of attack would have served him better. But his mind worked in that way, and he could not help himself. It was, I think, one of the most fertile in suggestion that I ever came across. In later years, in conversation especially, thought seemed to come quicker than words to express it. In this respect he reminded one of Lord Kelvin. In such a predicament he would simply remain silent, and slowly move his head. This habit, I think, explains the reputation of being "mysterious" which he seems to have acquired latterly at Cambridge.
He was not without the honour at home which he deserved, apart from the affection of his friends, and had he lived would doubtless have received it from abroad. He was elected F.R.S. in 1888, and received the Royal Medal in 1893. He was elected an Honorary Fellow of Christ's College in 1897, and received an Honorary D.Sc. from the Victoria University in 1902.
Botanical science could ill spare his loss at the early age of 52. But it may be grateful for 25 years of illuminating achievement. It might have been hoped that another quarter of a century would be allotted to one so gifted. But if the "inexorabile fatum" decreed otherwise, he is at least to be numbered amongst those of whom it may be said
"Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas."
FOOTNOTE:
NOV. 1911. I must guard myself against the implication that Marshall Ward's method was wrong in principle. For as pointed out by Prof. Turner in his "Address to the Mathematical and Physical Section" of the British Association at Portsmouth the maxim of "leaving no stone unturned" is identical with Prof. Chamberlin's "Method of Multiple Working Hypotheses." And what is at first sight an unlikely hypothesis may turn out to be the true one. Yet the rigorous application of the method is time-consuming and life is short. Some liberty of selection in testing the hypothesis that seems most probable must be allowed the investigator, and the instinct of genius may sometimes hit on the right one.
A SKETCH OF THE PROFESSORS OF BOTANY IN EDINBURGH FROM 1670 UNTIL 1887
BY ISAAC BAYLEY BALFOUR
Medicine and Botany--James Sutherland--enforced retirement--the Prestons--Charles Alston--his career--John Hope--Physiological leanings--Daniel Rutherford--Robert Graham--John Hutton Balfour--characteristics--Botanic Society of Edinburgh founded--appointed to Glasgow--transfer to Edinburgh--his numerous activities--laboratory teaching established--field excursions--Ecology--attitude to Darwinism--Alexander Dickson--work in Organography--his versatility.
My task in the warring against oblivion typified in these addresses is to speak about John Hutton Balfour of Edinburgh, one of the botanical teachers of the middle of last century, whose pupils were numbered by thousands, and whose active life bridged the period of the passing of the old and the birth of the new outlook upon science through Darwin's work; and in relation to what I have to say of him I propose to sketch briefly the stages and development of botanical teaching in Edinburgh from the date when systematised attention was first given to it.
Of the well-recognised fact that the study of Botany as a science has been, to begin with, dependent on Medicine my story furnishes an excellent illustration.
Only towards the end of the seventeenth century had the advance in practice of Medicine in Edinburgh reached a stage which gave urgency to a movement for the improvement in the training of the medical man, and the protection of the public from the attentions of inefficient votaries of the healing art. The foundation of the Royal College of Physicians in 1681 gave expression to the co-operative principle in the control of those who would profess Medicine; the creation of a Botanic Garden for the purpose of the cultivation of medicinal plants was the response in the direction of safeguarding the practitioner against the herbalist, and of giving him the advantage of a correct knowledge of the plants which were the source of the drugs he himself was to compound. Before this time, whilst many practitioners could grow drug-plants for themselves, and did so, the majority were at the mercy of the herbalist.
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