We have still to speak of the most famous of the government bureaus, the

Smithsonian Institution. In 1836 the government came into the

possession, by bequest, of the whole property of the Englishman

Smithson, as a principal with which an institution should be founded

bearing his name, and serving the advance and dissemination of science.

It was never known just why this Oxonian and mineralogist left his large

property to the city of Washington, which then numbered only 5,000

inhabitants. Although he had never visited America, he wrote to a

friend: “The best blood of England flows in my veins; my father’s family

is from Northumberland, my mother’s is related to kings. But I desire to

have my name remembered when the titles of the Northumberlands and the

Percys shall have been forgotten.” His instinct guided him aright, and

the Smithsonian Institution is to-day an intellectual centre in

Washington—that city which is the political centre of the New World. It

should be mentioned, in passing, that Congress accepted the bequest only

after lively opposition; it was objected that to receive the gift of a

foreigner was beneath the dignity of the government. As a fact, however,

the success of the institution is not due so much to this foreign

endowment as to the able labours of its three presidents: the physicist

Henry, who served from 1846 to 1878, the zoölogist Baird from 1878 to

1887, and the physicist Langley, who has been at the head since 1887.

All three have been successful in finding ways by which the institute

could serve the growth and dissemination of science.

It was agreed from the outset not to found a university which would

compete with others already existing, but an institute to complement all

existing institutions, and to be a sort of centre among them. The great

institution was divided into the following divisions: first, the

National Museum, in which the visible results of all the national

expeditions and excavations are gathered and arranged. The American idea

is that a scientific museum should not be a series of articles with

their labels, but rather a series of instructive labels, illustrated by

typical specimens. Only in this way, it is thought, does a museum really

help to educate the masses. The collection, which is visited every year

by more than 300,000 persons, includes 750,000 ethnological and

anthropological objects; almost 2,000,000 zoölogical, 400,000 botanical,

and almost 300,000 palæontological specimens. Then there is the National

Zoölogical Park, which contains animal species that are dying out; the

Astrophysical Observatory, in which Langley carries on his famous

experiments on the invisible portion of the solar spectrum; the

Ethnological Bureau, which specially studies the Indian; and much else.

The department of exchanges of this institute is a unique affair; it

negotiates exchanges between scientists, libraries, and other American

institutions, and also between these and European institutions. As

external as this service may seem, it has become indispensable to the

work of American science. Moreover, the library of the institution is

among the most important in the country; and its zoölogical,

ethnological, physical, and geological publications, which are

distributed free to 4,000 libraries, already fill hundreds of volumes.

Any one examining the many-sided and happily circumstanced scientific

work of these twenty-eight institutes at Washington will come to feel

that the equipment could be used to better advantage if actual teaching

were to be undertaken, and that the organization of the institutes into

a national university attracting students from all parts of the country

would tend to stimulate their achievements. In fact, the thought of a

national university as the crowning point of the educational system of

the country has always been entertained in Washington; and those who

favour this idea are able to point to George Washington as the one who

first conceived such a plan. In spite of vigorous agitation, this plan

is still not realized, chiefly because the traditions of the country

make education the concern of the separate states, and reserve it for

such institutions as are independent of politics.

It is a different question, whether the time will not come when the

nation will desire an institution of a higher sort—one which will not

rival the other large universities of the country, but will stand above

them all and assume new duties. A purely scientific institution might

exist, admitting students only after they have passed their doctorial

examination, and of which the professors should be elected by the vote

of their colleagues through the country. There is much need of such a

university; but the time may not be ripe for it now, and it may be a

matter of the far future. And yet at the present rate at which science

is developing in the country, the far future means only ten or fifteen

years hence. When the time is ripe, the needed hundreds of millions of

dollars will be forthcoming.

For the present, a sort of half-way station to a national university at

Washington has been reached. This is the Carnegie Institute, whose

efficiency can so far not be wholly estimated. With a provisional

capital of $10,000,000 given by Andrew Carnegie, it is proposed to aid

scientific investigations throughout the country, and on the

recommendation of competent men to advance to young scientists the

necessary means for productive investigations. There is, unfortunately,

a danger here that in this way the other universities and foundations of

the country may feel relieved of their responsibility, and so relax

their efforts. It may be that people will look to the centre for that

which formerly came from the periphery, and that in this way the general

industry will become less intense. Most of all, the Carnegie Institute

has, up to this point, lacked broad fruitful ideas and a real programme

of what it proposes to do. If the institute cannot do better than it has

so far done, it is to be feared that its arbitrary and unsystematic aid

will do, in the long run, more harm than good to the scientific life of

the country.

The same general conditions, on a smaller scale and with many

variations, are found outside of Washington in a hundred different

scientific museums and collections—biological, hygienic, medical,

historical, economic, and experimental institutions; zoölogical and

botanical gardens; astronomical observatories; biological stations,

which are found sometimes under state or city administration, sometimes

under private or corporate management. Thus the Marine Laboratory at

Woods Hole is a meeting-place every summer for the best biologists.

Sometimes important collections can be found in the most unlikely

places—as, for instance, in the historic museum of the city of Salem,

which, although it has gone to sleep to-day, is still proud of its

history. The large cities, however, like New York, Philadelphia, Boston,

Chicago, and Baltimore, have established admirable institutions, on

which scientific work everywhere depends. Then there are the political

capitals, such as Albany, with their institutions. That German who is

most thoroughly acquainted with conditions of scientific collections,

Professor Meyer, the director of the scientific museums at Dresden, has

given his opinion in his admirable work on the museums of the Eastern

United States as follows: “I have received a profound impression of

American capabilities in this direction, and can even say that the

museums of natural history of that country are generally on a higher

plane than those of Europe. We have, so far as buildings and

administrative machinery go, very few good and many moderate or

downright poor museums, while the Americans have many more good and many

fewer bad ones; and those which are poor are improving at the rapid

American pace, while with us improvement is hopelessly slow.”

There is still another important factor in the scientific societies,

whose membership, to be sure, is chiefly composed of the personnel of

the higher educational institutions, but which nevertheless exert an

independent influence on scientific life. The National Academy of

Science is officially at the head. It was founded in 1863, having a

hundred members and electing five new members each year. While its

annual meetings in Washington observe only the ordinary scientific

programme, the society has as a special function the advising of

Congress and the government on scientific matters. Thus, this academy

drew up the plans for organizing the Geological Survey and for

replanting the national forests. The political atmosphere of Washington,

however, has not been too favourable to the success of the Academy, and

it has never attained the national significance of the Paris and London

academies.

The American Historical Association has a similar character; and its

transactions are published at the expense of the government. The popular

associations, of course, reach much larger circles; thus, for instance,

the American Society for the Advancement of Science, which has existed

for fifty years, has about the same functions as the German

Naturforscherversammlung. It brings together at its annual meetings,

which are always held in different places, a thousand or so scientists,

and holds in different sections a great many lectures. Still more

popular are the meetings of the similarly organized National Educational

Association, which brings together more than ten thousand members at its

summer meetings, which are often held in pleasant and retired spots. In

these and similar sessions, scientific work is popularized, while in the

specialized societies it is stimulated toward greater profundity. In

fact, there is no medical, natural-historical, legal, theological,

historical, economic, philological, or philosophical specialty which has

not its special national societies with annual congresses. It is

increasingly the custom to hold these popular sessions during the summer

holidays, but the strictly scientific congresses during the first week

in January. The physicians, by exception, meet at Easter. In order that

the business-like separation of subjects may not exclude a certain

contact of scientific neighbours, it is increasingly the plan to

organize groups of congresses; thus, the seven societies of anatomy,

physiology, morphology, plant physiology, psychology, anthropology, and

folk-lore always meet at the same time in the same city.

Besides these wandering meetings, finally, there are the local

societies. Of these, the veteran is the Academy in Philadelphia. It was

founded by Franklin in 1743, and so far as its membership goes, may

claim to have a national character. In a similar way the American

Academy, founded in 1780, has its home in Boston. Then there are the New

York Academy, the Washington Academy, which has recently enlarged so as

to include members from the whole country, and which ultimately will

probably merge into the National Academy; the academies of Baltimore,

Chicago, New Haven, and a hundred smaller associations, which for the

most part are not merely interested in spreading scientific information,

but in helping on the results of science.

We cannot hope to call the complete roll here of scientific production.

Our purpose was merely to relate some of the favourable and unfavourable

influences under which the American has to make his contribution to the

science of the day. Merely for a first orientation, we may give some

more detailed accounts in a few departments. At first sight, one might

be tempted to give a sketch of present-day production by directly

depicting the production with reference to the special higher

institutions. Much more than in Germany, the results of scientific

research are brought before the public eye with the official seal of

some university. Every large educational institution publishes its own

contributions to many different sciences; thus, the University of

Chicago, which perhaps goes furthest in this respect, publishes journals

of sociology, pedagogy, biblical studies, geology, astronomy, botany,

etc.; and, besides these, regular series of studies in science,

government, classical philology, Germanic and Romance languages, English

philology, anthropology, and physiology. Johns Hopkins University

publishes mathematical, chemical, and biological magazines; a journal

for experimental medicine, one for psychiatry, for modern philology, for

history, and Assyriology. Among the periodical publications of Harvard

University, the astronomical, zoölogical, cryptogamic, ethnological,

Oriental, classical philological, modern philological, historical, and

economic journals are the best known. Columbia, Pennsylvania, and

several other universities publish equally many journals. There are also

a great many books published under the auspices of institutions of

learning, which relate to expeditions or other special matters. Thus,

for instance, Yale University, on the occasion of its two-hundredth

anniversary in 1901, published commemorative scientific papers by its

professors in twenty-five large volumes; the papers themselves ranging

from such subjects as the Hindu epic and Greek metre to thermo-dynamics

and physiological chemistry.

The various universities have always been known to have their scientific

specialties. That of Johns Hopkins is natural science; of Columbia, the

science of government; of Harvard, literature and philosophy. But the

universities are, of course, not confined to their specialties; for

instance, Johns Hopkins has done very much in philology, Columbia in

biology, and while Harvard has been famous for its literary men, like

Longfellow, Holmes, Norton and Child, it has also had such distinguished

men on its faculty as the zoölogist Agassiz, the botanist Gray, and the

astronomer Pickering.

It may be more natural to classify scientific production according to

the separate sciences. The list is too long to be given entire. The

venerable subject of philosophy is generally placed first in the

university catalogues of lectures. This subject shows at once how much

and how little is being done. A German, to be sure, is apt to have false

standards in this matter; for if he thinks of German philosophy, he

recalls the names of Kant, Schopenhauer, Fichte, and Hegel; and he asks

what America has produced to compare with these. But we have seen that

the work of productive science was commenced in the New World only a few

decades ago, and for this reason we must compare the present day in

America with the present day in Germany; and to be just, we should

compare the American scholar only with the younger and middle-aged

Germans who have developed under the scientific conditions of the last

thirty years—that is, with men not over sixty years old. Young geniuses

are not plentiful, even in Germany to-day; and not only are men like

Kant and Hegel lacking in philosophy, but also in other departments of

science; men like Ranke and Helmholtz seem not to belong to our day of

specialization. A new wave of idealistic and broadly generalizing

thought is advancing. The time of great thinkers will come again; but a

young country is not to be blamed for the spirit of the times, nor ought

its present accomplishment to be measured after the standards of happier

days. If we make a perfectly fair comparison, we shall find that

American philosophy is at present up to that of any other country.

Externally, in the first place, America makes a massive showing, even if

we leave out of account philosophical literature of the more popular

sort. While, for example, England has only two really important

philosophical magazines, America has at least five which are as good as

the English; and if philosophy is taken in the customary wider sense,

sociological and pedagogical journals must be included, which are

nowhere surpassed. The emphasis is laid differently in America and

Germany; and this difference, which may be seen in almost all sciences,

generally, though not always, has deeper grounds than merely personal

ones, and is in every case apt to distort the judgment of a foreigner.

America, for instance, is astonishingly unproductive in the history of

philosophy. Every need seems to be satisfied by translations from the

German or by very perfunctory text-book compilations. On the other hand,

the theory of knowledge, ethics, and above all psychology, are very

prosperous. Disputes in epistemology have always been carried on in

America, and the Calvinistic theology, more especially, arrived at

important conclusions. At the beginning of the eighteenth century lived

Jonathan Edwards, who was perhaps the greatest metaphysical mind in the

history of America. The transcendental way of thought, which is

profoundly planted in the American soul, was nurtured by German

idealism, and found expression through the genius of Emerson. Then, in

more systematic and academic ways, there have been philosophers like

Porter and McCosh, who stood under Scotch influence and fought against

positivism; others, like Harris and Everett, who have represented German

tendencies; while Draper, Fiske, Cope, Leconte, and others have preached

the philosophy of science. In the front ranks to-day of philosophers are

Ladd, Dewey, Fullerton, Bowne, Ormond, Howison, Santayana, Palmer,

Strong, Hibben, Creighton, Lloyd, and most influential of all, Royce,

whose latest work, “The World and the Individual,” is perhaps the most

significant epistemological system of our day.

Psychology is the most favoured of all the philosophical disciplines in

America at the present time. This is shown outwardly in the growth of

laboratories for experimental psychology, which in size and equipment

far exceed those of Europe. America has more than forty laboratories.

Foremost in this psychological movement is William James, who is, next

to Wundt, the most distinguished psychologist living, and whose

remarkable analysis of conscious phenomena has been set down with a

freshness and liveliness, an energy and discrimination, which are highly

characteristic of American intellect. Then there are other well-known

investigators like Stanley Hall, Cattell, Baldwin, Ladd, Sanford,

Titchener, Angell, Miss Calkins, Scripture, and many others. In

pedagogy, which is now disporting itself in a great display of paper and

ink, the names of Harris, Eliot, Butler, Hall, Da Garmo, and Hanus are

the most respected.

Just as theological and metaphysical speculations, ever since the early

Colonial days, have preceded present-day scientific philosophy, so in

the science of history systematic investigators were preceded in early

days by the Colonial historians, beginning with Bradford and Winthrop. A

people which are so restless to make history, so proud of their doings,

so grateful to their heroes, and which more than any other people base

their law and public policy avowedly on precedent, will necessarily have

enjoyed the recounting of their own past. America has had a systematic

history, however, only since the thirties, and two periods of work are

generally distinguished; an earlier one, in which historians undertook

to cover the whole subject of American history, or at least very large

portions of it, and a later period embracing the last decade, in which

historical interest has been devoted to minuter studies. Bancroft and

Parkman stand for the first movement. George Bancroft began to write his

history in 1830, and worked patiently thereon for half a century. By

1883 the development of the country, from its discovery up to the

adoption of the American Constitution, had been completed in a

thorough-going fashion. Parkman was the greater genius, and one who

opened an entirely new perspective in American history by his

investigations and fascinating descriptions of the wars between the

English and the French colonists. The great works of Hildreth and Tucker

should also be mentioned here.

The period of specialized work, of course, covers less ground. The large

monographs of Henry Adams, John Fiske, Rhodes, Schouler, McMaster,

Eggleston, Roosevelt, and of Von Holst, if an adoptive son of America

may be included, are accounted the best pieces of work. They have

described American history partly by geographical regions and partly by

periods; and they show great diversity of style, as may be seen by

comparing the martial tone of Holst and the majestic calmness of Rhodes.

To these must be added the biographies, of which the best known form the

series of “American Statesmen.” Americans are particularly fond of

studying a portion of national history from the life of some especially

active personality. Then too, for twenty years, there has been a

considerable and indispensable fabrication of historical research. Large

general works and reference books, like those of Winsor, Hart, and

others; the biographies, archive studies, correspondences, local

histories, often published by learned societies; series of monographs,

journals, the chief of which is the _American Historical Review_—in

short, everything necessary to the modern cultivation of historical

science are to be found abundantly. The Revolution, the beginnings of

the Federation, the Civil War, and Congress are specially favoured

topics. It is almost a matter of course that the independent

investigation into European history is very little attempted; although

very good things have been done, such as Prescott’s work on Spanish

history, Motley’s Rise of the Dutch Republic; and in recent times, for

instance, Taylor has made important studies in English history, Perkins

in French, Henderson in German, Thayer in Italian, Lea and Emerton in

ecclesiastical history, Mahan in the history of naval warfare, and

similarly others.

This lively interest in philosophy and history is itself enough to

disprove the old fable that American science is directed only toward

material ends. Perhaps, to be sure, some one might say that philosophy

is practiced to better mankind and history to teach politicians some

practical lessons, while both statements are in point of fact false. No

such charge, however, can be made against classical philology; and yet

no one can read the transactions, which constitute many volumes, of the

five hundred members of the Philological Association, or read the

numbers of the _American journal of Philology_, or the classical studies

published by Harvard, Cornell, and Chicago, without feeling distinctly

that here is scientific work of the strictest sort, and that the methods

of investigations are steadily improving. The movement is younger in

this department than in the others. To be sure, the classical authors

have been well known in America for two centuries; but in no province

has the dilettanteism of the English gentleman so thoroughly prevailed.

It was not until the young philologians commenced to visit German

universities, and especially Göttingen, that a thorough-going philology

was introduced. And such a work as the forty-four students of the great

classicist, Gildersleeve, published on the occasion of his seventieth

birthday, would have been impossible twenty years ago. The greatest

interest is devoted to syntactical investigation, in which the

best-known works are those of Goodwin, Gildersleeve, and Hale; while

there are some works on lexicography and comparative languages, and

fewer still on textual criticism. Every classical philologian knows the

names of Hadley, Beck, Allen, Lane, Warren, Smyth, White, Wheeler,

Shorey, Dressier, and many others.

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