the advanced thought, expanding from thence for centuries to enlighten and elevate the civilized world. As they listened to the ceaseless roar of the cannonade and felt their instruments quiver when the earth jarred beneath the recoil of giant guns, they must have realized to the full the import of Kipling's stern and solemn warning: "For all we have and are, For all our children's fate, And should we not ask: What has been the fate of the astronomers in devastated Belgium, and the invaded territories of France and other countries? We have heard but little yet, but some news that came has been ominous. The university city of Dorpat taken and retaken by rival revolutionary armies! Batteries of cannon established within 500 metres of the famous Pulkova observatory, which, the director tells us, for five hours was under an intense artillery fire, shells striking the great dome and other buildings. The precious object-glasses had been removed from the instruments, and fortunately the members of the staff and of "the colony" were uninjured, but beyond doubt grave damage was done alike to buildings and equipment. This transpired fifteen months. ago; what may have happened since we know not. I have not yet learned what befell the fine old astronomer Dr. F. Terby, of Louvain, when that hapless city was subjected to an appalling fate the mere recital of which made the civilized world shudder. Perhaps he was murdered deliberately, cruelly, like so many of his fellow-citizens. If not destroyed by fire or explosion, that "telescope of eight inches" with which he had achieved so much for science, would doubtless be carried off by the plunderers, and may even now be in the hands of some Herr Professor. Such things demand inquiry-and retribution, What shall be said of German astronomers and scientists? Permit me to quote only a few burning words uttered recently by Raymond Poincaré, President of the Republic of the French, himself a member of a family distinguished for scientific attain ment. He said: "Autocratic governments having prepared in the secrecy of their Chancellories and general staff a mad program of universal dominion, at the time fixed by their genius for intrigue, let loose their packs and sounded their horns for the chase; ordering science at the very time when it was beginning to abolish distances, to bring men closer and to make life sweeter, to leave the bright sky toward which it was soaring, and to place itself submissively at the service of the most hideous violence, heretofore undreamed of; lowering the religious idea to the extent of making God the complacent auxiliary of their passions and the accomplice of their crimes." Speaking for myself, in preparing the pages which are to follow, I sought no aid from the astronomers and scientists of the enemy. I can only think of them as the persons who added to the already too great horrors of warfare the fiendish devices of poison gases, flame projectors, disease germs. I can only think of them as perjurers who, to retain the favor of a tyrannical ruler and a military caste as unprincipled as overbearing, lied before Heaven and men by affixing their names to a document written in deliberate contravention of truth, wherein they denied the reality of the horrors and atrocities perpetrated by the ruthless soldiery of Germany in Belgium and in France; or when denial was Impossible, with brazen effrontery assured the scientific men to whom their falsehoods were addressed, that the wretched inhabitants of the devastated countries had only received their desert. German scientists may, and probably have, suffered through the war, and doubtless by them as by their fellow-criminals a heavy penalty has still to be paid. I, for one, say with British bluntness: "Serves them right!" These are forever dishonored and discredited. They must come down from the high pedestal to which they had arrogantly exalted themselves. They are no longer the teachers of teachers, no more super-men in science than were their elaborately-trained armies super-men in war, or their ships' crews upon the sea. And the mention of that much-vaunted navy brings to me the thought, that there the demand for naval instructors should not have been very pressing, since the German fleet gener ally restricted its navigation to the mine-field protected waters of Heligoland Bight and the Kiel Canal. Doubtless German naval officers, in lieu of nautical astronomy, took a thorough course (under Tirpitz) in Piracy on the High Seas; and as events turned cut, they had not much opportunity to display their skill as navigators; for when at last their fleet did come out, it was only necessary to shape the compass-course dictated by Beattie's wireless orders, to the place of shameful surrender "without firing a shot", and the haven of ignoble internment at Scapa Flaw. But to-night I have undertaken to speak to you, not of national immorality, but of astronomical progress during 1918. And it is satisfactory to realize that, in spite of difficulties and obstacles, only a few of which I have mentioned, very valuable work has been accomplished in nearly every branch of the science. The year 1918 will always be remembered in the annals of astronomy for two remarkable events; the one, predicted long ago, made the subject of refined calculation in every detail, prepared for elaborately, observed and recorded by many trained scientists at practically the identical moments announced beforehand for every phase of the phenomenon; the other, totally unforeseen and unexpected, coming as a surprise to the astronomical world, which it almost startled by its suddenness, yet did not find unprepared, but on the contrary, ready to observe, to record, to investigate every stage of the apparition with instrumental means and with skill not hitherto available. I am, of course, referring to the total solar eclipse of June 8th, and the "new star", more properly termed Nova Aquilae No. 3, which curiously enough appeared on the same date. I will revert to each of these events in regular course later. I naturally commence a review of astronomy with our own immediate surroundings-the bodies constituting the solar system, among which, of course, the sun must be accorded the premier place. Though the actual maximum period of solar activity had passed, sun spots have been quite prevalent during 1918. On almost any clear day an observer, using even a small aperture, would hardly fail to perceive at least a few sun spots, and from time to time these interesting phenomena were quite numerous, forming zones of groups across the solar disc, individual members of the groups often undergoing remarkable and rapid changes. On several occasions as many as 25 to 30 different spots could be counted, some closely associated, other more widely scattered. The other usual attendants of solar activity, the faculæ and prominences, have also been well in evidence. I regret we have not yet at hand details of the work accomplished and results arrived. at during the year at the great observatories where special attention is given to solar physics; however, we need not doubt observations have been carried on assiduously, and important advances achieved, adding much to our knowledge of the wonderful processes whereby the great central source of control and of vivifying energy in our planetary system fulfils the all-important duties devolving upon him. I may just remind you that radial motion, as well as rotation, has been proven to exist in sun spots. In connection with solar activity, I may be permitted to mention the frequency of auroral displays, sometimes of remarkable brightness. It is to be hoped that the study of these interesting phenomena will be greatly assisted by the help of photography, particularly when by the use of extremely rapid plates only instantaneous exposures will be necessary. It seems quite proper at this point to give a (necessarily) brief account of the total solar eclipse of June 8th, to which, as one of the great astronomical events of the year, I already made reference. As you are probably aware, on that date the apex of the moon's long conical shadow (the cause of all total eclipses of the sun) touched the earth's surface first at a point in the Pacific Ocean south of Japan and travelled north-easterly, passing southward of Alaska, reaching the North American Continent at an unimportant town called Aberdeen, in the State of Washington, whence, at tremendous speed, it swept diagonally across the whole wide expanse of the United States to the peninsula of Florida, in the brief space of only forty-seven minutes. This important event, long foreseen and made a subject for exact prediction in every detail, occurring as it did at the most favorable time of the year, in the central zone of a great country deservedly noted for its high stage of scientific attainment, especially in all branches of astronomy, naturally aroused the deepest interest, and was prepared for with the utmost care. Every condition likely to facilitate successful observational results. was considered in full detail; every variety of instrumental requirement was duly provided. Owing to war conditions in Europe, the astronomers of the old world found themselves debarred from any share in the work, but this loss to science was compensated by the assiduity with which their confrères in the United States made ready to carry out successfully observations of the eclipse. phenomena in every phase. Time will permit me to speak only in the briefest manner of the thoroughness with which the eclipse campaign was arranged. The positions finally selected for the expeditions were located along the path of totality at points where to convenience of access was joined probability of an unclouded sky. They were chiefly in Washington, Oregon, Wyoming, Colorado and Kansas. The City of Denver, possessing a regular observatory of the first class, was situated directly in the shadow-path, from which circumstance much was hoped (hopes unfortunately frustrated by clouds). The observers, though nearly all skilful astronomers, nevertheless underwent preparatory training in every detail of the special work they were to perform. The auspicious day arrived, bringing to each station the brief but all-important moments of totality. At many places clouds threatened to render abortive all the well-planned arrangements of the anxious watchers. Fortunately at most locations the cloudcurtains drew aside just in time to permit accomplishment of all that was vitally important. While more ample success would undoubtedly have been achieved had the observers been favored with cloudless skies, results of the most interesting character and of very high scientific value rewarded the care and assiduity so freely accorded by the men and women of science, who, in most |