Great Uncle Research Articles

Charles Babbage—the great uncle of computing?

article Free Access Share on Charles Babbage—the great uncle of computing? Author: Maurice V. Wilkes View Profile Authors Info & Claims Communications of the ACMVolume 35Issue 3March 1992 pp 15–ff.https://doi.org/10.1145/131295.214839Published:01 March 1992Publication History 0citation1,200DownloadsMetricsTotal Citations0Total Downloads1,200Last 12 Months18Last 6 weeks3 Get Citation AlertsNew Citation Alert added!This alert has been successfully added and will be sent to:You will be notified whenever a record that you have chosen has been cited.To manage your alert preferences, click on the button below.Manage my Alerts New Citation Alert!Please log in to your account Save to BinderSave to BinderCreate a New BinderNameCancelCreateExport CitationPublisher SiteeReaderPDF

Toothpick Coffins

54 Dating back to the Greeks and Romans , coffins have varied in shape, having been in the form of an urn, or triangular, the body in a sitting position, or hexagonal like modern coffins. In some cases, clay was molded around the body and baked, and the Egyptian coffins , or sarcophagi, and mummy chests were shaped to the form of the human body. Roughhewn wooden coffins were common among the American Indians and later in the United States, with some using glass for the lids so the body could be viewed without opening the coffin. It is not known exactly why or when the toothpick coffins were used in this area, but some oldtimers can remember when the coffins were just square boxes, calling the shaped ones "fancy." One funeral director who was contacted about the coffins pictured said they were expensive coffins for that period and in that region. It was the practice for neighbors to gather and build a coffin when one in the community died, as there were no funeral homes nearby; however, there were sometimes certain of the men who made and sold coffins as a means of making extra money. These were usually even more "fancy" than the ones pictured, having brass handles and being covered with black cloth on the outside, but the pattern for shape was the basic toothpick style. Washington Americus Luttrell was my great uncle, now deceased, and he helped in the making of many such coffins on Thomas Ridge in Casey County were he was born and lived all his life. According to my mother, Uncle Wash made the first of the three pictured coffins for himself and kept it hidden in his back room for a long time. It was a secret he did not want revealed for some reason, perhaps due to some superstition about dying once people knew about the coffin. He lived alone in the house where he and my grandmother were born, while my grandfather had married and built another house a few hundred yards from him; as a result, my mother and all her brothers and sisters (fifteen of them) were in and out of Uncle Wash's house daily. After one of the children discovered the coffin in the back room covered up, and of course told everyone else, he took it upon himself to build one for his brother and his brother's wife, my grandparents. The one for himself, he had lined in blue satin, and the one for his brother, he lined in yellow, and the one for his brother's wife, he lined in pink. These were all kept in the back room. As the years passed, funeral homes became more commonplace and people began to buy "ready-made" coffins. My mother recalls several discussions between my grandfather and grandmother about the coffins Uncle Wash had made for them. The conversation would usually come up evenings when they sat around the fireplace spitting tobacco juice into the fire. My grandfather allowed that since his brother was older than he, he would die first, and he would not know it if they buried him in a nice ready-made coffin from town; then they promised each other that whoever died first would put the other one away in a nice new casket too. They never told Uncle Wash that they were ashamed of the old coffins he had made for them so long ago, but he must have known they would not bury him in his, for when he died, he had set aside enough money to cover funeral costs, including a coffin from town. So now three toothpick coffins, once considered fancy enough to give anybody a decent burial, have been relegated to the chicken coop/all-purpose shed out near his old house, and 1 am glad I have had an opportunity to see them. I like to think that my Uncle Wash imagined himself and his brother and his brother's wife lying in the coffins as he made them, and I like to think that he imagined them at peace. That is really more important than whether or not they were buried in them. Hs** 55...

Victorian Poets and Romantic Poems: Intertextuality and Ideology by Anthony H. Harrison (review)

Reviews93 James, Henry. "Preface to 77ie American" in French Writers, Other European Writers, the Prefaces to the New York Edition. Ed. Leon Edel and Mark Wilson. New York: Library of America, 1984. Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire. New York: Columbia UP, 1985. Eric Savoy University of Calgary Anthony H. Harrison. Victorian Poets and Romantic Poems: Intertextuality and Ideology. Charlottesville: U of Virginia P, 1990. ix + 235. $29.50 US (cloth). Harrison 's book represents a good match of method (new historicism) and subject (the uses to which Victorian poets put Romantic poems), and the match produces a useful, careful study of what one might broadly term "the ideology of Victorian allusions." The stated purpose of the book is to "scrutinize the ways in which self-consciously intertextual uses of precursors by Victorian poets serve to reveal ideology, that is, to expose a system of sociopoUtical—as well as moral and aesthetic—values embedded in the work of each writer" (1). Put in even simpler terms, Harrison seeks to show what Victorian poets beUeved and thought by analyzing how they "read," in the broadest sense of that word. The idea of reading how Victorians read is not new, of course; indeed, most good critical biographies address this issue in substantial ways. Nonetheless, Harrison offers a systematic approach and a theoretical vocabulary enriched by the work of Jerome McGann, Roland Barthes, Gerard Genette, Michael Riffaterre, and the Great Uncle of "ideological dialogues," Mikhail Bakhtin. In seven chapters, Harrison visits the work of Arnold, Tennyson, the Rossettis, Barrett Browning, Morris, and Swinburne and investigates how these poets chose to interpret, paraphrase, echo, and otherwise manipulate the "texts" of Shakespeare, Keats, Wordsworth, and others. Many readers wiU Ukely consider the chapters on Arnold and Tennyson to be the most compelling ones, partly because these two figures are such obvious subjects for "intertextual" criticism, but also because Harrison appears particularly energized by the several problems their poetry suggests. He provides a 94Victorian Review refreshing review of the way Arnold ' s Empedocles on Etna painstakingly critiques—and ultimately rejects—the influence of Keatsian poetics on contemporary poetry. In the case of Tennyson, Harrison tries mightily to decipher the ideology ofMaud. Harrison ' s prose reveals the strain of this effort: Presenting an exemplary network of interacting intertexts and ideological stances, Maud becomes a metatext for the historical moment in which it appeared, one that may be seen to elude the political, social, and Uterary particulars of its composition only by means of self-consciously incorporating them (89). This passage shows how determined Harrison is to schematize Tennyson, to make him fit, to make him make sense. In the difficult process of doing so, he verges on theoretical self-parody ("interacting intertexts") and gives us an argument that is hard to accept: Tennyson avoided particulars by incorporating them. Even so, the chapter as a whole illuminates well the literary context within which Tennyson worked. The chapters on Dante Rossetti, Morris, and Swinburne are less inspired and more merely workmanlike but in no way seriously flawed. In them Harrison argues (among other things) that Rossetti ' s ideology is "purely aesthetic" (107)—would a Marxist agree?!—that Morris to some extent misinterpreted Keats, and that the "trajectory of Swinburne's career is ideologically parallel to that of Wordsworth" (202). Perhaps the most troublesome chapter is the one on Barrett Browning and Christina Rossetti. Harrison ' s use of feminist criticism is uneven there, and he seems to assume that "intertextuality" is like collegiate sports, with men ' s teams and women ' s teams. Consequently, he seems to have to invent more intertextual friction between Browning and Rossetti than may actually exist. Barrett Browning ' s poetry may well have been less important to Rossetti than the chapter assumes, and Harrison may have more profitably investigated how the latter made use of texts that were not necessarily written by women. Overall, this chapter on two Victorian women poets seems obligatory, and feminism in general needs to exert more substantial influence on Harrison ' s historical approach. Harrison generally seems to have preselected the Romantic and Victorian pairings here, and occasionally the conclusions he reaches seem prefabricated (as in the...

Introduction to the special issue on the creative arts therapies with adolescents

Adolescence. The teen years, ages 1319, right? Not exactly. Isn’t it a normal period of psychological development? Normal? Perhaps it is really a psychopathological condition yet to be listed in DSM-III-R? On the other hand, my great uncle always said he was an adolescent. Maybe it is just a state of mind. This Special Issue will address the relationship between the creative arts therapies and adolescents. Many unique observations and techniques are offered that will contribute much to the field. Nevertheless, there is something special about this particular population that holds importance to creative arts therapists. I began my adolescence performing skits with my brothers for my parents and their guests. Now I am a drama therapist, and I perform skits with my patients for the staff and families at my hospital. What I began then, I have never stopped. For many creative arts therapists, adolescence was the time we discovered our art form. After all, art as a conscious process requires the development of the capacity for abstraction, a capacity that emerges fully during adolescence. From the playful musings of the child, in adolescence we begin to discern talent, and mere expression turns into disciplined form. We make these discoveries because someone we loved gave our artistic expression value, just as now we affirm our patients by giving value to their artistic creations. Adolescence has been characterized as the stage of life where play is transformed into work. Creative arts therapists, whose work is play, can legitimately be accused of living in this transformative space. Not set in our ways, still skeptical of authority, not quite yet accepted, our near rebellious energy and spontaneity have kept many an institution alive with spirit, stirred by a rhythmic, creative pulse. Yes, there is a special tie between the creative arts therapies and adolescence, and yet this population can be among the most challenging to us. Their emotionality and defensiveness, fragility and stubbornness demand a special clinical acumen. Their rejection of childish ways often is expressed by a rejection of our modalities. Finally, their need to create private inner space beyond the reach of parents is expressed by a refusal to share their thoughts with us. “A penny for your thoughts, ’ ’ my mother would say when she wanted me to tell her what she already had surmised. After age 15, I simply retorted, “Humpf.” I thought they were worth at least a dollar. The Special Issue begins with a Perspective by Rente Emunah entitled, “Expression and Expansion in Adolescence: The Significance of Creative Arts Therapy. ” Emunah presents the four concepts of explosion, expression, containment, and expansion to link adolescent feelings and behavior to the processes of the creative arts therapies. She asserts that the balance and interplay between expression and containment in creative arts activities help adolescents achieve a sense of mastery over their emotions. Emunah describes both the extreme challenge and potential for creativity inherent in the adolescent’s struggle for maturity, and identifies some of the techniques she has found useful in overcoming their resistance and establishing a therapeutic alliance. She also reminds us that many of our own primary values and perspectives on life were forged during our adolescence, particularly our love of our art form. She notes that this is one “population” we have all been! C. Jane Estelle, in “Contrasting Creativity and Alienation in Adolescent Experience,” gives us an understanding of two underlying processes that con-

An Electroretinographic and Molecular Genetic Study of X-Linked Cone Degeneration

We evaluated full-field electroretinograms from members of a family with X-linked cone degeneration. The 15-year-old propositus had near normal visual acuity and a protan deficiency. His maternal grandfather and great uncle had a visual acuity of 20/200, a deficiency in color vision, and signs of macular degeneration; all had normal rod electroretinographic responses and diminished cone electroretinographic responses. The mother and maternal aunt of the propositus had normal visual acuity and diminished cone electroretinograms with predominant loss of red cone function. Their cone responses were greater than those of affected males. Genomic DNA isolated from these patients was analyzed with a red cone pigment gene cDNA probe that disclosed a 6.5-kilobase deletion in the red cone pigment gene. These findings substantiate that a defect in a gene encoding for a cone photoreceptor protein can lead to a cone photoreceptor degeneration.

Mountain Blood by Will Baker

226 Western American Literature To Skin a Cat. By Thomas McGuane. (New York: E. P. Dutton/Seymour Lawrence, 1986. 212 pages, $16.95.) New York and Hollywood have been quick to embrace Thomas McGuane as one of our most nimble contemporary writers. Western literature scholars, however, have been hesitant to accord McGuane the place he deserves in the western regional canon. This collection of short fiction should help. Reading it is as much fun as returning to the High Plains to drink coffee in your favorite cafe with your oldest home-town friend. You ask your friend, “Who’sdoing what, and who are they doing it to?” and the afternoon stretches into evening, the stories coming with the easy walk of a meandering horse. You hear about people you don’t like and people you do, but you hear noth­ ing that doesn’t contribute insight into human vulnerability. You learn once again that when people are out for themselves, they become their own vic­ tims. In this world of dog trainers, duck hunters, lawyers, owners, workers, ranchers, and judges, you begin to see what the westering impulse has done to the West; the frontier, as the title piece makes clear, has vanished, even for the idling rich. The last beckoning adventure for the last romantic is to become a dilettante pimp for his unwilling girlfriend. Nothing, you begin to understand, is too sacred to destroy;everything is for sale. These people, these events become too real to be borne easily. But even as their lives become silhouettes too dark against a glare too bright, the writing itself begins to calm you. Crisp and ironical sentences come at you like cleanly strung baubles: “He looked like a modernized station of the cross”; “These domiciling arrangements seemed thunderous after an unexceptional small­ town courtship” ; and “Harvey Perry, a sober acountant, led Mrs. Callahan by the elbow to the Mexican snacks, where her guests stood and stared in the anesthesia of the punch.” Then when you realize that one character has just turned to another and said, “You’re an insufferable crumb,” you discover anew what you have always known: Tom McGuane is Scott Fitzgerald in cowboy boots. DEXTER WESTRUM Ottawa University Mountain Blood. By Will Baker. (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1986. 192 pages, $14.95.) It is the blood of heritage that suffuses these narratives of the American West with their particular life and nourishes the continuity of public and private events over time. Inspired by the oral tradition, these stories (part fact, part fiction) begin, usually, with the recollection of a family tale being told Reviews 227 by the author’s father, complete with interruptions from various relatives. Somewhere along the line there is sure to be one or several digressions, dia­ tribes, historical notes, informative asides and private admissions. There is love, anger, and humor — each somewhat reminiscent of Mark Twain. Meandering through the underbrush of puberty, small town life, love and death, American hegemony, manifest destiny, violence, environmentalism, international trade, pop psychology, and the woman who sold out to Bing Crosby—you name it—anywhere along the road taken, Baker employs the cat skinner’s art of exposing the stones. Several stories use the family’s connection to the gold rush as a starting point. In “The Legend Of Great Uncle Jim,” for instance, the original tale is about a relative who, though fatally wounded, killed another man in a brawl over a woman. Attempting to understand his own streak of jealousy, Baker visits the old town of Tuscarora, with phrases of modern psychology and country western lyrics running through his head: “open relationship,” “one’s needs not being met,” “tiger by the tail.” He interviews an old ranch lady who provides details to uncle Jim’s fight, but whose own life, by contrast, stands as a tower of strength and sanity despite the loss of husband and five children. The piece ends like a barroom song. Driving through the dark dodging jack rabbits, Baker concludes that women, no matter what kind, are stronger, and they drive men crazy. “Crazy as these rabbits, Jesus hundreds of them, now I have hit four. They take the children or...

The Palouse in Eekish Pah

JN LATE AUTUMN of 1980 Andrew George sat with three researchers at his daughter's home on the Yakima Reservation, telling them something of his life and of the history of his people. The white-haired elder sat at the kitchen table explaining how his parents and grandparents had told him scores of stories which he was instructed to learn and relearn with the passing of each winter. Andrew had to repeat these stories until he could retell them exactly as they had been taught to him! In this way he remembered stories relating to creation, the power of animals, the sacredness of the earth, and the importance of family relations.' For over three hours, Andrew spoke of many aspects of life and culture of the Palouse, Nez Perce, Yakima, and Spokane Indians of the Great Columbia Plain. During the course of his discussions, Andrew outlined his family's geneaology, mentioning that his mother and her family had once lived in Oklahoma. She never talked about it, Andrew said it was too painful. Andrew had learned this from his aunt, but this was all he knew about his mother's exile to the Indian Territory in the 1870s and 1880s. Several members of Andrews family had been taken from Montana to the Indian Territory, including Andrew's grandfather, Ipnamatwekin, his grandmother, Ananemart, his great uncle, Kutskuts Samyohut, his aunt, Saethayou, and his own mother, Ipnou Sietsanmy. These were just a few of the Palouse Indians of east central Washington Territory who had been forcefully removed to the Indian Territory as punishment for their participation in the Nez Perce War of 1877. Some Palouse Indians, particularly the Upper Palouses who lived in close proximity to the Nez Perces, had been drawn into the conflict in 1876. The lives of these Palouse Indians and the non-treaty Nez Perces were joined during the war. The Palouse and Nez Perces fought together throughout the Nez Perce War of 1877, and those who survived the bloodshed and removal ultimately shared a common exile in Eekish Pah, the Hot Place.2 During the nineteenth century the Palouse Indians were often identified as Nez Perces in historical documents and accounts dealing with the Inland Northwest. This was natural because both tribes shared a common language, culture, and religion. However, both maintained their own distinct dialect and tribal identity. By the 1850s

Denise Levertov's "Illustrious Ancestors": The Hassidic Influence

Denise Levertov's work is ordinarily seen in mainstream of American literature. She has been placed, on occasion, in Emersonian visionary tradition.1 In recent years, she has been clearly recognized as a poet who refuses to be silent in times of political and social crises.2 multi-cultural aspect of her work, however, has been, for most part, unexplored. Levertov speaks, with pride, of her multi-cultural background in her essay, The Sense of Pilgrimage, in Poet in World and in her memoir about her mother, in her recently published collection of prose works, Light Up Cave. In earlier reflection, poet makes reference to an early poem Illustrious Ancestors (Overland to Islands) which she believes reveals definite and peculiar destiny that she and her sister shared by their having among their ancestors two men who were living during same period (late 1700s and early 1800s) but in very different cultures, who had preoccupations which gave them a basic (had they known of one another and had [they] been able to cross barriers of language and religious prejudice).3 Denise and Olga felt that this kinship must be recognized in heaven or that somehow on earth it would be unified and redeemed through them. One of her paternal ancestors, Schneour Zalman, The Rav of Northern White Russia,4 was founder of Habad branch of Hasidim, and other, in her mother's ancestral line was Angell Jones of Mold, a tailor, teacher, and preacher to whom Daniel Owen, the Welsh Dickens, was apprenticed. shop of Angell Jones's son (the poet's great uncle) served as a kind of literary and intellectual salon in 1870s.5 Levertov believes that presence of figures like these in a person's imagination can help to create a kind of personal mythology and function as a source of confidence and inspiration for artist.6 Denise Levertov's most immediate Illustrious Ancestors, her parents, Paul and Beatrice Levertoff, were, themselves, storytellers, writers, and her mother, an artist, who encouraged their daughters to

Ivor David Harris, M.D., F.A.C.R.

Dr. Ivor David Harris, 65, of Grosse Pointe Farms, Michigan, died Saturday, the 9th of September 1978. He had been a practicing radiologist in the Detroit area for more than 36 years. Dr. Harris was born Feb. 9, 1913 to the late Mr. and Mrs. Ivor Harris.of New Philadelphia, Ohio. He was a direct descendant of Nicholas Neighbor, a revolutionary soldier associated with General RufusPutnamand the founderof Newcomerstown, Ohio. His grandfather, Dr. Daniel Conrad Gentsch, and his four great uncles were all distinguished physicians who, after completing their postgraduate studies in Vienna, practiced in Ohio and Michigan. Dr. Harris was a graduate of the University of Virginia School of Medicine and a past president of the Virginia Medical Alumni Advisory Board. A former instructor of radiology at both the University of Virginia and Wayne State University, he was the former chief of radiology at old Detroit General Hospital, old Delray Hospital, Wayne University, Doctors Hospital (past president of staff), Wyandotte General Hospital (past president of staff), Oakwood Hospital, and Heritage Hospital. He was a member of the Executive Committee of all the above hospitals. Dr. Harris was the founding member of the medical firm of Drs. Harris, Birkhill, Wang, Songe and Associates. On April 20, 1978, Wyandotte General Hospital and Public Welfare Commission dedicated a room to Dr. Harris in appreciation of his leadership and commitment to quality patient care demonstrated during more than thirty years as director of radiology at that hospital. Dr. Harris was a past president of the Michigan Radiological Society. He was a member of the AMA, the Wayne County Medical Society, the Michigan and Virginia Medical Societies, the North American Radiological Society. the American Geriatric Society, the American Society of Railway Surgeons, The Pan American Medical Association, and a Federal Examiner for the National Institute of Occupational Safety and Health. In 1974 he was elevated to Fellow of the American College of Radiology. He was a member of the Board of Directors of the Michigan Cancer Society and a lecturer throughout the country on the radiology of trauma as well as a lecturer to the Michigan Bar Association. Among his civic activities Dr. Harris included the Detroit and American Historical Societies, the Detroit Symphony Society, the National Trust for Historic Preservation, and the Founders Society of the Detroit Institute of Arts. He was a member of the Country Club of Detroit. Ivor David Harris, M.D.

The Bounty Hunters

To the Editor.— During the winning of the West, bounties were frequently offered for the heads of villains, dead or alive. As suggested in Bierce'sDevil's Dictionary, bounties were prompted or supported, or even paid, by insurance companies, for which Bierce entertained woeful disrespect. This led to my great uncle Gregory's Third Law of Liddle, Whither there shall be a bounty proffered, there shall be a hunter thereof, or two. Honoring this major contribution to the humanities, the hunters lined up in echelon. Often viewed as renegades, disreputably motivated by size of the bounty, they were really noble citizens, merely dedicated to the purification of society. Within the purviews of ordinary men, the purlieus of the bounty hunter now embrace those fields of corporate medicine that involve readjustment of limb, transmutation of golden brain to alchemical slush, and cutting up generally. Although bounty sizes seem inflationary, one must remember that

Hugh Stott Taylor, 6 February 1890 - 17 April 1974

Hugh Stott Taylor, the third child of James and Ellen (néeStott) Taylor, was born at St Helens, Lancashire, on 6 February 1890. He had four brothers and three sisters. His father was a glass technologist who, during a period of fifty years, made notable improvements in the quality of plate glass and in the manufacture of coloured glass. Hugh inherited from his father an early interest in the application of science to the solution of industrial problems and an ability to resolve difficulties by experiment. His mother, before her marriage, had been headmistress of a school and devoted to the education of the poor. Relatives on both sides of the family were concerned with local government. James Stott, J.P., uncle, was Chairman of the Hindley Urban District Council and a great uncle, Edward Johnson, had been Mayor of St Helens.

William Robin Thompson, 1887-1972.

William Robin Thompson was born on 29 June 1887 in London, Ontario, Canada. He was the only child of William Thompson, schoolmaster and journalist of Derwent, Ontario, and of Alice (Morgan) Thompson of London, Ontario. His mother died within a fortnight of his birth. Thompson was descended on his father’s side from a pioneer Canadian family which migrated from Ulster, Ireland, in 1817 when his great grandfather Arthur and his brother Richard sold their land interests. This family can be traced through maps and deeds to Thomas Thompson (deceased 1717) of Ardunsheen Townland. Arthur Thompson’s son became Sir William John Thompson and was one of the pioneers in the fight against tuberculosis in Ireland. W. R. Thompson’s father, after a period as headmaster of a school, became the first editor of the (London) daily,The Advertiser, and finally editor-in-chief of the agricultural weekly,The Farmer's Advocate. W. R. Thompson’s great uncle, Thomas O’Hara, was a Moravian missionary in Labrador in the late 1860s.

Fatal intracranial hemorrhage as the first sign of hemophilia B in an infant.

Fatal intracranial hemorrhage was the first and only manifestation of hemophilia B in a 6-week-old boy. A maternal great uncle had mild bleeding difficulties, but the maternal grandfather had a negative history with a factor IX level of 16%. The true incidence of significant central nervous system (CNS) bleeding in infant hemophiliacs is unknown, but reported cases suggest that intracranial hemorrhage may be more common in hemophilia B than in hemophilia A. Lumbar puncture is not contraindicated in hemophilia and should be done in the presence of CNS signs not only to establish the diagnosis of hemorrhage, which is treatable, but also to rule out infection, which may increase the tendency to bleed. The diagnosis of hemophilia should be considered in any baby who presents with signs suggesting intracranial hemorrhage.

Chronic granulomatous disease: quantitative clinicopathological relationships.

10 children with chronic granulomatous disease are described. Though the clinical features were typical, a wide range of clinical severity was noted. A significant correlation between the severity of the syndrome and the qualitative nitro-blue tetrazolium results was found. Facial rashes (4) and polyarthritis (1) were noted in female presumed heterozygotes, the incidence of which was also related to the nitro-blue tetrazolium test results. A father and a paternal great uncle died of leukaemia. The possible aetiological relation between these and the partial leucocyte abnormality is discussed. Three children were treated with busulphan, in order to induce neutropenia, to expose the ingested organisms to humoral bactericidal mechanisms, and to antibiotics. There was evidence suggestive of benefit in one of them.

Physician-Generals in The Civil War:

One of my great uncles had only recently received his MD degree at the Medical College of Virginia when the Civil War broke out. He was unable to bide his time and wait for a commission in the Confederate military service where organizational red tape was being produced faster than a working system of military medicine. He volunteered as a liamsburgn the line and was wounded at Williamsburg in his first battle, dying soon thereafter. My family seemed to think that his story contained a moral of some kind. Paul Steiner who has been led far and wide by his interest in Civil War medicine has come up with a strange, but interesting, survey of a number of Civil War general officers who were at one time or another physicians. For the most part, they did not leave medicine directly to go into military activity but had already deserted the

Further studies of a Kindred having an aberrant autosome (13–15) without apparent phenotypic effect

A girl and her father, both apparently normal, had been reported earlier as carriers of a satellited submetacentric chromosome in place of a long acrocentric chromosome. A morphologically identical chromosome has now been found in the proposita’s paternal uncle, but in neither a paternal cousin nor a paternal great uncle. Clinical studies of the proposita did not reveal any deviations from normality.

George Macaulay Trevelyan, 1876-1962

George Trevelyan was not a scientific historian. Though he knew so much about the period when the Royal Society was founded, it could elect him a fellow as in those days it had elected Clarendon and Dryden. It was the poetical aspect of the past which appealed to him and as a freshman at Cambridge in 1893 he had boiled with rage when Seeley, the Regius Professor, told him that history was a science and had nothing to do with literature. Ten years later one of his reasons for leaving Cambridge was his feeling that the atmosphere there was too critical for the kind of history he wanted to write. He wanted to write literary history: he was concerned with the form as well as the substance and had the example of his great Uncle Macaulay to show the power of good writing. He knew its dangers but he had no great confidence that even the scientist could be completely impersonal in the field of human history, and so he wrote the kind of history which gave him the outlet for his personal aesthetic feelings. He wrote so honestly that there is never a doubt of his own preferences, his love of freedom and toleration, his desire to think well of his own country and his pleasure in stories with happy endings. He ranks with our finest historians. In his own estimation his best books were those on Garibaldi and on England under Queen Anne , though he was delighted to find that so many of his countrymen enjoyed his English social history . He allows it a certain vigour because it represented an interest which he had felt all his life in the social aspects of the past.

Anne Brontë at Blake Hall

Blake Hall was my grandmother's old home, so that memories of the house go back to the earliest days of my childhood. For us children it was a place where wonderful Christmas parties were presided over by a genial great uncle and aunt and, like all houses which have been inhabited by the same family for several generations, it was also exciting because of the past associations which clung around its fabric.There were stories which took one back to the Napoleonic wars, the Luddite risings and other strange happenings of the nineteenth century, but perhaps what interested us most was the fact that Anne Brontë had been governess to our grandmother's eldest sister and brother.

Progressive Diaphyseal Dysplasia (Engelmann's Disease)

In 1929, engelmann (1) called attentionI to a bizarre disease, which he referred to as “osteopathia hyperostotica sclerotisans multiplex infantilis,” involving the long bones of an eight-year-old boy. Nine years prior to this, a similar case with identical radiographic findings had been described by Cockayne (2). It was not until 1943, when Riley and Shwachman (3) reported 2 additional cases, that attention was again called to this unusual condition. In 1948 Neuhauser et al. (4) published 4 cases, 2 of which had been previously reported (3) under the simpler descriptive title, progressive diaphyseal dysplasia. Since then, several examples have been added to the literature. In view of the perplexing facets of this condition and lack of knowledge regarding its etiology, we offer an additional case with the hope that by the accumulation of enough material some insight into this unusual disease can be obtained. Case Presentation W. R., a white boy of live and a half years (Fig. 1). was admitted to the Texas Children's Hospital on June 7, 1954 becau se of a peculiar gait. He began walking at eleven months of age and apparently had no difficulty until the age of two years. Development of the unusual gait was insidious and it was first brought to the attention of the parents by persons outside the family. The patient tired easily and frequently complained of ankle pain and leg cramps, but joint swelling was never noticed. He had been examined by several physicians and was considered to have postparalytic poliomyelitis. Radiologic examination of the pelvis and hips had been reported negative. Review of systems was normal except for a history of occasional shortness of breath associated with vague chest pain and tachycardia. The child was the product of a normal gestation and delivery and at birth weighed 7 pounds. His appetite had always been good, with adequate but not excessive vitamin intake. After the age of two years, however, his weight gain had been very slow. His development during infancy was within normal limits. He walked alone at eleven months and said single words at twelve months. Past illnesses included frequent upper respiratory infections and chickenpox at the age of four years. Tonsillectomy was performed at four and a half years of age, and a few months later a left cryptorchism was repaired. Both parents were in good health and there was no familial history of osseous or neuromuscular disorders. The maternal grandfather and a great uncle were diabetics. On physical examination, the patient appeared thin and undernourished, but alert and intelligent. He walked with a peculiar waddling gait as though he were “stiff at the knees and flat footed.” The skeletal musculature was poorly developed and the upper and lower extremities were weak. The height was normal, but the weight was only 35 pounds. No joint abnormalities were noted.

The Egyptian Revolution

F lOR a century and a half the Arab world has been following a negative policy. It has known what it wanted to do away with, but it has not known what it wanted to build. The Western conquest of the Middle East was mental no less than physical. Overwhelmed and unsettled, Eastern minds lost almost all national values, yet could not absorb Western values. Mis application of Western patterns of government brought a con fused mixture of political systems and philosophies. Democracy was only a veil for dictatorship. Constitutions framed in the in terest of the people of the Middle East became instruments for their exploitation and domination. Egypt's story in these years centers upon the effort to free the country from a foreign yoke and to find a policy capable of eradi cating the evils accumulated by feudalism and compounded by misuse of governmental power. It was a long and painful search. Egyptians hoped for leaders to champion their cause and defend their interests, but politicians and factions for the most part made themselves subservient to the forces that were ravaging the coun try-British rulers, corrupt monarchs, feudal overlords, a non Egyptian ruling class and its Egyptian satellites. The British had occupied Egypt with the tacit consent of Khedive Tewfik, great uncle of ex-King Farouk, following the patriotic revolt led by General Arabi. The Khedive, who had concentrated all power in his own hands and used it to benefit himself and his family, feigned acceptance of the reforms de manded by Arabi, while opening the doors to the British who sought a pretext to justify an occupation of Egypt. In i88z naval units of the British Fleet bombarded Alexandria, Egypt's second capital and the biggest port of the Mediterranean, and landed troops. These troops met stubborn resistance. The entire garrison of General Arabi's men in the Alexandria forts defended their positions to the last man; but in the battles that ensued, Arabi's army was defeated with the Khedive's connivance, and the Brit ish occupation began. There were indignant protests, international as well as Egyp tian, and the British, sensing that their status was not legitimate, soon announced that the occupation was only a temporary meas