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LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
ies of ilea&mg Americans;
Edited by W. P. TRENT
LEADING AMERICAN
MEN OF SCIENCE
EDITED BY
DAVID STARR JORDAN
President of Stanford University
WITH SEVENTEEN PORTRAITS
NEW YORK
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
1910
Copyright, 1910,
BY
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
Published October, 1910
^<fe>N*W)
U\O-M
T. MOREY & SON
BLECTROTYPBRS & PRINTER^5, GREENFIELD, MASS.
CONTENTS 1
PAGE
EDITOR'S PREFACE 3
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD, Physicist [1753-
1814] 9
By EDWIN E. SLOSSON
ALEXANDER WILSON, Ornithologist [1766-1813] 51
By WITHER STONE
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, Ornithologist [1780-1851] 71
By WITMER STONE
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN, Chemist [1779-1864] 89
By DANIEL Con OILMAN
JOSEPH HENRY, Physicist [1797-1878] 119
By SIMON NEWCOMB
LOUIS AGASSIZ, Zoologist [1807-1873] 147
By CHARLES FREDERICK HOLDER
JEFFRIES WYMAN, Anatomist [1814-1874] . 171
By BURT G. WILDER
ASA GRAY, Botanist [1810-1888] 211
By JOHN M. COULTER
JAMES DWIGHT DANA, Geologist [1813-1895] 233
By WILLIAM NORTH RICE
SPENCER FULLERTON BAIRD, Geologist [1823-1887] ... 269
By CHARLES FREDERICK HOLDER
OTHNIEL CHARLES MARSH, Paleontologist [1831-1899] ... 283
By GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL
EDWARD DRINKER COPE, Paleontologist [1840-1897] ... 313
By MARCUS BENJAMIN
JOSIAH WILLARD GIBBS, Physicist [1839-1903] 341
By EDWIN E. SLOSSON
1 The lives are arranged, not chronologically by date of birth, but by median date.
V
M 2731
vi CONTENTS
PAGE
SIMON NEWCOMB, Astronomer [1835-1909] 363
By MARCUS BENJAMIN
GEORGE BROWN GOODE, Zoologist [1851-1896] 391
By DAVID STARR JORDAN
HENRY AUGUSTUS ROWLAND, Physicist [1848-1901] ... 405
By IRA REMSEN
WILLIAM KEITH BROOKS, Zoologist [1848-1908] 427
By E. A. ANDREWS
PORTRAITS
PACING PAGE
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD, Frontispiece Title
ALEXANDER WILSON 51
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 71
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 89
JOSEPH HENRY 119
Louis AGASSIZ 147
JEFFRIES WYMAN 171
ASA GRAY 211
JAMES DWIGHT DANA 233
SPENCER FULLER-TON BAIRD 269
OTHNIEL CHARLES MARSH 283
EDWARD DRINKER COPE 313
JOSIAH WlLLARD GlBBS 341
SIMON NEWCOMB 363
GEORGE BROWN GOODE 391
HENRY AUGUSTUS ROWLAND 405
WILLIAM KEITH BROOKS 427
vii
LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
EDITOR'S PREFACE
AT the death of Simon Newcomb, it was stated in one of our
journals that he had left "a record wholly blameless and wholly
salutary, whose work added to the only permanent wealth of na-
tions." In this view is found the key-note of the present volume.
In the extension and coordination of human experience, in the
widening of the boundaries of knowledge and in the attainment of
greater exactness in the details, is found the only permanent
wealth of nations. All this constitutes the subject-matter of science,
and in science we find the basis for the development of the finest
of fine arts, that of human conduct. As we understand better the
universe around us, our relations to others and to ourselves, the
behavior of our race becomes rationalized. It becomes possible
for us to keep ourselves clean, and to make ourselves open-minded,
friendly and God-fearing. In the achievements of science, there-
fore, we may properly find the only permanent wealth of nations.
It is the only wealth which is superior to fire and flood, the only
wealth beyond the reach of entanglements of political intrigue, or
the wanton ravages of war.
To the men who have widened the boundaries of human knowl-
edge, we owe a debt which we can repay only by a friendly remem-
brance of the work these men have done. We owe them our
gratitude for their successes, and their mistakes call on us only for
our sympathy. No one knows their struggles or their achievements
so well as those who have followed them over the same paths.
In this fact the present volume finds its reason for being. Mr.
Henry Holt, whom we may without offense call "our beloved
publisher," first planned this book. It was his desire that it
should contain short and sympathetic biographies of fifteen leaders
in American science, each one written by a man in some degree
3
4 EDITOR'S PREFACE
known as a disciple. The subjects of these sketches should all be
chosen from the list of those no longer living. While no one can
say which of all these is greatest, the fifteen should be chosen from
among the great. Benjamin Franklin, whose name comes to the
front at the first, was omitted, as his biography was already pro-
vided for in another volume in the same series. Simon Newcomb
and William Keith Brooks, men with undisputed place in the
first rank, were added, as they passed from earth while the vol-
ume was nearing completion.
At the request of Mr. Holt, the present writer, as a labor of love,
undertook the compilation of these records. He is responsible
for the choice of subjects, and for the choice of authors, but the
pressure of work forced him to stop at that point, and to place
the editorial work in the more competent hands of Dr. Edwin E.
Slosson, with whom all further responsibility in this volume rests.
But before laying down his pen, a few general considerations
rise to his attention.
This volume constitutes a part of the scientific record of the
republic for a hundred years. It is the history of struggles in a
new country, without great libraries, great museums or great uni-
versities. It represents self-help and self-reliance to a greater de-
gree than would be shown in a parallel volume in any other land.
It shows the rise of observation and of knowledge derived from
travel, before that arising from experiment, or that deduced by
analytical reasoning. It shows the early charm of "the land where
nature is rich, while tools and appliances are few, while of tradi-
tions there are none." With this, no doubt, is associated the charm
of loveableness, characteristic of so many of these men, who
studied nature because they loved her. With all this, too, theirs
were uneventful lives, as we measure life in the stress of modern
industrial development. Leaving aside Benjamin Thompson,
whose history was wholly unique, nothing startling happened to
any one of them. None of them gained or lost great wealth.
None of them was elected to the Senate; none of them led embat-
tled hosts to victory, and none took part in any form of public
melodrama which would make his name known in the theaters
EDITOR'S PREFACE 5
or on the streets. Agassiz, always picturesque and always in-
tensely alive, could not be said to have had a commonplace ca-
reer, for everything in life was to him a marvel. The wonderful
was ever close to his open-eyed enthusiasm, and the fresh-laid egg
of a snapping turtle recalled the whole succession in a world of
eternal life. Another picturesque figure was Audubon, artist and
gentleman, in his velvet hunting coat sketching the birds of the
American wilderness.
But the rest lived quietly and worked quietly and saw truth.
Theirs were happy lives, for the most part very happy, and their
record is the register of "the permanent wealth" of our nation.
Another feature we may note in these men is their willingness
for public service. The justification of science, is, after all, the
help it can give men towards better ordered lives. It was the dream
of Professor Baird that there should arise in Washington a great
body or bureau of cooperative science, that in this democracy
there should be maintained a body of wise men, keen-eyed men
who should accomplish by working together what none of them
could do separately, and the result of their combined efforts should
be always at the service of the bureaus of administration. Thus
from the Smithsonian Institution, Henry, Baird, Goode, Langley,
arose the National Museum, the Fish Commission; and in similar
fashion arose the Marine Hospital Service, the Bureau of Forestry,
and the other bureaus of investigation in the Department of Agri-
culture. But Baird was not alone in giving his great powers freely
to the public service. Many other have recognized the fact that
pure science and applied science are not different in nature or
function, and often science is strengthened and dignified when it
is tested by placing it in action.
In going over the lives of these men, we notice that for the most
part each one followed his natural bent in devoting himself to
science. Love of his work, the pulsation of personal enthusiasm,
is perhaps the greatest single asset a man of science can have.
Nothing but love of the work could lead a man to take up a scien-
tific career in the pioneer days of the republic, and these days have
not yet passed. Men without enthusiasm can be trained to see,
6 EDITOR'S PREFACE
to record and to think, but the fine glow of the missionary spirit
is not with these.
And this fine glow enabled many of these men to become great
teachers. To be a great teacher is in part a matter of tempera-
ment, though that power may lie with a silent and reserved man,
like Brooks, as well as with the eloquent and visibly sympathetic
ways of Agassiz. Some few, though teachers, lacked the teach-
ing spirit; Gibbs for example was a lonely thinker, unknown to
students and colleagues, the author of books no one in his genera-
tion was ready to read.
The crowning privilege of the great teacher lies in the heredity
of his inspiration, his power to found a school of greatness among
younger men who have caught his enthusiasm and his methods.
Such series are well recognized in American science. I once heard
Agassiz say: "I lived for four years under Dr. Dollinger's roof,
and my scientific training goes back to him and to him alone."
The descendants of Agassiz are well traceable in American sci-
ence. There is scarcely a worker in biology and geology of the
older generation who was not in some degree at some time a pupil
of Agassiz. It is now nearly forty years since Agassiz died, and
the youngest of those of us who knew him are now coming also
to the age of sixty, the age when a man is set in his ways and can
learn nothing new.
In his Autobiography, Darwin, who never spared himself,
deplores the fact that with increasing knowledge (and a long period
of nervous invalidism) his mind had suffered a partial atrophy,
and his interest in literature, even the best, had largely failed him.
From this unfortunate fact, frankly expressed, the lesson has been
drawn wearisomely that one should shun too much devotion to
science, under penalty of esthetic and spiritual barrenness. It
is clear from the frequent references in these biographies to artistic
taste and skill, that Darwin's experience was individual, and doubt-
less in some degree pathological. These men for the most part
found science a source of mental freshening. They lost no human
interest which they had ever possessed. In witness of this fact,
we see another of our great men of science, Shaler, a life-long boy,
EDITOR'S PREFACE 7
writing off-hand Elizabethan drama, of a degree of merit not
surpassed by any who have written the like since the days of the
great dramatists themselves.
We find again in the well-ordered lives of most of these men of
real greatness, no warrant for the notion that the "superman" will
rise superior to the canons of common morality and common
decency. They loved their wives, they cherished their families,
they never figured in problem plays. The one or two exceptions
which the acute historian may discover only serve to emphasize
the rule that with sound brains go sound morals.
To compare these men with a like number of like men in Eng-
land, Germany or France, would be a problem too difficult to be
treated here. We are accustomed to hearing our real greatness
underrated, while the petty incidents of new world life have been
subjects of much cheap boasting. In brief, I believe that these
names deserve to stand with the highest in their generation, and
that no nation could require a better record than theirs. Germany
has more men of scientific eminence for her population. England
has fewer. But the greatest of England are in no way less than
the greatest of Germany. Social conditions and legal require-
ments drive students of all grades and of all professions in Ger-
many to the Universities. The fees of many doctors call strong
men to the University, when such men in England or in America
would be occupied in other ways. German professors supported
by fees may teach or study as they like. Once chosen to a profes-
sorship the rest depends on their choice. American professors
paid directly for teaching, largely with public funds, and never
by the fees of their students, must perforce teach. As our universi-
ties are organized, half gymnasium, half university, the ideal of
research can be present with but few of them; actual achievement
in investigation with still fewer. Yet, taking the field at large, I
cannot sympathize with those who find little to praise in American
science. In the fields cultivated in the closet and the library,
Germany is preeminent, for she has many closets and many libra-
ries. In the fields which carry men into the open topograph-
ical geology; paleontology; geographical distribution; faunology;
8 EDITOR'S PREFACE
taxonomy, Germany has some of the greatest of names, but her
great names are few beside those of the United States. If our
besetting sin is lack of intensity, as befits the breadth and length
of our continent, that of Germany is myopia, as befits a man
whose universe is limited to the field of his microscope. There
are many reasons which call the German from business life to the
University, and many reasons why science is the well-paid agent
of manufacture. With us there are many reasons which call a
man away from the classroom, and the intervals between classes
still constitute our period for research.
Yet for all these deficiencies we shall find our remedies, and
these remedies in time will be potent. The roll of our scientific
men to-day shows a worthy succession to the long line from Rum-
ford to Brooks. With all defects in American education, there is
no falling off in ability nor in enthusiasm, nor in facility for con-
tact with things as they are. We may be therefore confident that
the volume of this series, which shall cover the twentieth instead
of the nineteenth century, will show great names, great achieve-
ments and great personalities, worthy to rank with the best of
these, our fathers in science, and such names, too, in ever increas-
ing numbers, even as proportioned to our wealth and our popula-
tion.
DAVID STARR JORDAN.
U^V**J^^
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT
RUMFORD
PHYSICIST : ;::-,;=;
1753-1814 ;Q ; ; ;;' ; '. ,
BY EDWIN E. SLOSSON
THE life of a scholar is apt to be a quiet one, externally devoid
of dramatic incidents and sudden changes of fortune, but there is
material enough to satisfy a writer of historical romances in the
life of the poor New England boy who became, in England, cav-
alry colonel, Under Secretary of State and Sir Benjamin Thomp-
son; in Bavaria, Count Rumford of the Holy Roman Empire,
Privy Councilor, Minister of War, Chief of Police and Chamber-
lain to the Elector Palatine; in Paris, husband of &femme savante
of a French Salon; and who died alone and friendless in the city
where he had been honored by Napoleon while living, and was
eulogized by Cuvier when dead. The name of the New England
town which persecuted him as a traitor he made known and hon-
ored throughout the world; he left his fortune to the country he
fought. England owes to him the Royal Institution, as we owe
our similar Smithsonian Institution to an ij!nglishman. In Mu-
nich he had a monument erected in his honor while yet alive
for his philanthropic work, and was lampooned by the press of
London for doing the same work there. As an intellectual free
lance he did service in as many different realms of science as he
did military service in different countries. He laid the first foun-
dation of the greatest generalization the human mind has yet con-
ceived, thej^w "f thp rn ngArva ti r m ftf (MPT and ne explained
the construction of coffee-pots. He was in action and thought a
paradoxical philosopher.
9
10 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Benjamin Thompson was born March 25, 1753, at Woburn,
Mass., in the farmhouse of his grandfather Ebenezer Thompson.
The house is still standing, preserved as a museum by the Rum-
ford Historical Association. He was a descendant of James
Thompson who came to New England with Governor Winthrop
in 1630, and was one of the first settlers of Woburn.
A few months after his birth his father died at the age of 26,
thus leading ;hi?n to the care of his mother and grandfather. Just
three years after the birth of Benjamin his mother married Josiah
Pierce,; Jr., -of Woburn, who received from his guardian an allow-
ance of two shillings and fivepence per week until the boy was seven
years old. To the apparent misfortune of thus being deprived at
an early age of both paternal care and patrimony he owed his
European career. As he said in later years to his friend, Professor
Pictet of Geneva:
"If the death of my father had not, contrary to the order of na-
ture, preceded that of my grandfather who gave all his property
to my uncle, his second son, I should have lived and died an Amer-
ican husbandman. It was a circumstance purely accidental,
which, while I was an infant, decided my destiny in attracting
my attention to the object of science. The father of one of my
companions, a very respectable minister, and, besides, very en-
lightened (by name Barnard), gave me his friendship, and of his
own prompting, undertook to instruct me. He taught me algebra,
geometry, astronomy and even the higher mathematics. Before
the age of fourteen, I had made sufficient progress in this class of
studies to be able, without his aid and even without his knowledge,
to calculate and trace correctly the elements of a solar eclipse.
We observed it together, and my computation was correct within
four seconds. I shall never forget the intense pleasure which this
success afforded me, nor the praises which it drew from him. I
had been destined for trade, but after a short trial, my thirst for
knowledge became inextinguishable, and I would not apply my-
self to anything but my favorite objects of study."
This account of his early education confirms the legends of his
birthplace that the young Benjamin Thompson was somewhat
indifferent to the routine duties of the farm and the shop and in-
clined to devote a larger proportion of his time to scientific expert
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD n
ments and diversions in mathematics than his guardians and
employers thought proper in an apprentice. But in spite of the
variety of his pursuits, he seems to have done his work well and
to have made good use of what schooling he could get. His
teacher at Woburn was John Fowle, a graduate of Harvard Col-
lege in 1747.
In the year 1766 he was apprenticed to John Appleton of
Salem, an importer of British goods and retailer of general mer-
chandise. It was here he was brought under the influence of the
Rev. Thomas Barnard, minister of the First Church of Salem, and
a man of unusual scholarship and ability. Thompson's accounts
and letters at this time show him to be accurate, orderly and skil-
ful in the use of the pen. He engraved a book-plate for himself
with a very elaborate heraldic device combining, in the common
symbolism of the day, an all-seeing eye, a ship, books, square and
compass, sword and a couchant lion. His friend Baldwin writes
of him:
"He employed as much of his time, as he could by any means
steal from the duties of his station, to amuse himself with study
and little, ingenious, mechanical recreations, and would be more
frequently found with a penknife, file and gimlet under the coun-
ter, than with his pen and account books in the counting room."
Benjamin Thompson was no exception to the old saying that
no man ever became a great physicist who did not attempt to
invent a machine for perpetual motion in his youth, for he walked
one night from Salem to Woburn to show Baldwin a contrivance
of wheels and levers which he thought would solve the problem
of perpetual motion.
While he was at Salem the news of the repeal of the Stamp Act
was received, but young Thompson took less interest in its effect
upon the importation business in which he was engaged than he
did in the opportunity of making some chemical experiments
with materials furnished at the expense of the public. But in
grinding together the ingredients of the powder for his home-
made rockets, the mixture exploded, severely burning his face
and breast and temporarily destroying his sight. This accident
12 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
did not discourage him, for throughout his life he retained an
interest in explosives to which, both in England and Bavaria, he
devoted much attention. His letters to his most intimate friend,
Loammi Baldwin, afterwards colonel in the Revolutionary Army
and engineer of the Middlesex Canal, indicate the extent and
diversity of his scientific curiosity.
WOBURN, Aug. 14, 1769.
"MR. LOAMMI BALDWIN,
"Sir: Please to give me Direction of the Rays of Light from a
Luminous Body to an Opake and the Reflection from the Opake
Body to another equally Dense and Opake; viz. the Direction of
the Rays of the Luminous Body to that of the Opake and the di-
rection of rays by reflection to the other Opake Body.
"Yours, etc.,
"BENJAMIN THOMPSON.
"N. B. From the Sun to the Earth Reflected to the Moon at
an angle of 40 degrees."
In 1769 Thompson was apprenticed as clerk to Hopestill Capen,
a dry goods dealer in Boston, but his employer having entered
into the boycott of British goods, he had little to do and in a few
months returned to his house in Woburn where "he was received
by his acquaintances with unwelcome pity, as an unfortunate
young man, who could not fix his mind on any regular employ-
ment, and would never be able to support himself, or afford any
consolation to his friends."
His stay in Boston, although short, was utilized in acquiring
some of the accomplishments which afterwards proved of so much
use to him in the courts of Europe. He took lessons in French
every evening, except Sunday, practiced drawing and engraving,
played on the violin, rehearsed plays and exercised with the back
sword. At the Boston Massacre, March 5, 1770, he is said to have
been in the midst of the crowd, sword in hand, eager for an attack
upon the British troops which a few years later he was to lead
against his own countrymen.
Freed from imprisonment in the shop, Thompson, now seven-
teen, spent the next two years in the study of medicine and natural
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 13
philosophy, and in teaching school at Wilmington and Bradford.
The program of daily duties that he drew up for himself is so
characteristic of the methodical and industrious disposition of
his whole life as to be worth quoting;
"From eleven to six, Sleep. Get up at six o'clock and wash my
hands and face. From six to eight, exercise one half and study
one half. From eight till ten, Breakfast, attend Prayers, etc.
From ten to twelve, Study all the time. From twelve to one, Dine,
etc. From one to four, study constantly. From four to five, Re-
lieve my mind by some diversion or Exercise. From five till Bed-
time, follow what my inclination leads me to; whether it be to go
abroad, or stay at home and read either Anatomy, Physic or
Chemistry, or any other book I want to Peruse."
He later obtained by the influence of some Boston friends the
privilege of attending the lectures of Professor Winthrop on
experimental philosophy at Harvard College, and every day he
and his friend Baldwin walked eight miles from Woburn to Cam-
bridge, and on their return repeated the experiments in mechanics
and electricity with apparatus of their own construction. That
the two boys were not so completely absorbed in abstract science
as to be oblivious to the attractions of the road is proved by their
discovery on a hillside farm in Medford of an apple-tree bearing
fruit of superior quality, which was afterwards cultivated by
Colonel Baldwin, introduced by Count Rumford into Europe and
is still known as the "Baldwin apple."
How much Count Rumford appreciated the help he got from
Harvard College is shown by his bequeathing to that institution
the reversion of his whole estate, to found a professorship "to
teach the utility of the physical and mathematical sciences for the
improvement of the useful arts, and for the extension of the in-
dustry, prosperity, happiness and well being of Society." Dr.
Jacob Bigelow was first elected to the Rumford Professorship in
1816. His successors have been Daniel Treadwell, Eben Hors-
ford, Walcott Gibbs, and John Trowbridge. *
The Rumford Fund for the support of this professorship now
amounts to $56,368.73.
14 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Thompson's third attempt at school teaching resulted in a
decided change of fortune, for he was called to a town which was
to give him a name, a wife and a fortune, the town now known as
Concord, New Hampshire, but which had been incorporated in
1733 as Rumford, Essex County, Massachusetts. Here again we
may, with advantage, quote his own words as reported by Pictet:
"I was then launched at the right time upon a world which was
almost strange to me, and I was obliged to form the habit of
thinking and acting for myself and of depending on myself for a
livelihood. My ideas were not yet fixed; one project succeeded
another and perhaps I should have acquired a habit of indecision
and inconstancy, perhaps I should have been poor and unhappy
all my life, if a woman had not loved me if she had not given me
a subsistence; a home and an independent fortune. I married,
or rather was married at the age of nineteen. I espoused the
widow of a Col. Rolfe, daughter of the Rev. Mr. Walker, a highly
respectable minister and one of the first settlers of Rumford."
Sarah Walker had married at the age of thirty Colonel Benja-
min Rolfe, twice her age, one of the richest and most important
men of the country, who had died two years later, leaving her with
one son, afterwards Colonel Paul Rolfe. Since she was some
thirteen years older than Benjamin Thompson, and so far above
the penniless school teacher in social position, it is probable that,
as he intimates, she took the initiative in the affair and exercised
the privilege of a princess towards a lover of low degree. She
took him to Boston before their marriage in the chaise of the late
husband (noted in Concord history as the first carriage brought
into the place) and gave him an opportunity of indulging for the
first time his fondness for fine clothes, for his outfit included a
scarlet coat. They drove back through the villlage of Woburn,
and stopping at his mother's door, she came out and exclaimed:
"Why, Ben, my child, how could you go and spend your whole
winter's wages in this way ? "
Their wedding tour was taken in the fall of 1772 to Portsmouth
near which was a grand military review of the Second Provincial
Regiment of New Hampshire. Thompson's fine appearance on
horseback as one of the spectators attracted the attention of
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 15
Governor Wentworth. His wife introduced him to the governor,
and he made such a favorable impression by his readiness in
conversation and wide information that he was soon after ap-
pointed a major in the regiment. Nothing could have been more
suited to Thompson's ambitions, but it brought misfortune upon
him in two ways; it offended the other officers that a youth of
nineteen, without military experience, should have been thus
placed over them, and the marked favor shown him by the gover-
nor caused him to be suspected by the patriots as a tool of the
Royalists. It was in fact this spite and suspicion that drove him
from America.
Young Thompson entered into his new role of landed proprietor
with his usual zeal and energy, introducing new seeds imported
from London, and taking an active part in the politics and develop-
ment of the colony. He broached a scheme for the survey of the
White Mountains to Governor Wentworth who not only approved
it, but offered to accompany the expedition in person. But it
was never carried out, for already more serious affairs were on
foot. Thompson's growing popularity with the governor, and his
own undeniably aristocratic tendencies combined to render him
a suspect by the ardent patriots of the vicinity. In the summer
of 1774 he was summoned before the patriotic committee to an-
swer to the charge of " being unfriendly to the cause of liberty,"
the chief complaint being that he was in correspondence with
General Gage in Boston and had returned to him four deserters.
He made a satisfactory explanation of his conduct and sentiments
and was discharged, but the suspicions were not removed from
the minds of his enemies, and since formal and semi-legal pro-
ceedings had failed, they resorted to violence. One November
night a mob surrounded the Rolfe mansion and demanded Major
Thompson, but he, receiving an intimation of the attack and know-
ing the impossibility of proving his innocence to an impassioned
mob, had borrowed a horse and $20 from his brother-in-law and
escaped to Woburn. He wrote to the Rev. Walker, his father-in-
law, that he "never did, nor, let my treatment be what it will,
ever will do any action that may have the most distant tendency to
1 6 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
injure the true interests of this my native country." It is quite
conceivable, however, that his definition of " true interests" may
have differed even at this time, from that of the ardent bands of
Tory-hunters then scouring the country.
On May 16, 1775, he was again arrested "upon suspicion of
being inimical to the liberties of this country" and was kept in
prison for two weeks, when he was formally acquitted by the
" Committee of Correspondence for the Town of Woburn" with
the verdict that they "do not find that the said Thompson in any
one instance has shown a Disposition unfriendly to American
Liberty, but that his general behavior has evinced the direct
contrary."
He tried to get an appointment in the Continental Army and
secured an interview with Washington, but the New Hampshire
officers over whom he had been promoted exerted too powerful
an influence against him. Nevertheless, during his stay at Wo-
burn he made himself as useful as he was allowed to in the organi-
zation of the army. In company with Major Baldwin he inspected
the fortifications on Bunker Hill and he spent some time drilling
the troops and designing uniforms.
But finding it impossible to secure a position in the American
army, and equally impossible, at least for one of his adventurous
disposition, to remain neutral and idle in such stirring times, he
decided to seek in the British army the military career he coveted
and, nearly a year after he had been driven from his home in
Concord, he left Woburn for Boston. Here he was received with
a welcome from the British very strongly in contrast to the cold-
ness of his countrymen, and, in spite of his youth and inexperi-
ence, he soon rose into the confidence of the authorities. Upon
the evacuation of Boston he was sent to England to convey the
news, and so severed his connection with his native land. He
never saw his wife again; the daughter whom he left as an infant
twice visited him in Europe when a grown woman.
His early biographers put themselves to much trouble to ex-
plain and apologize for his action in thus siding with the enemies
of his country, but now, when the descendants of the Loyalists
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 17
show no less pride in their ancestry than the Sons of the Revolu-
tion, we can see the situation in fairer perspective, and, although
we may disapprove of his decision and regret the loss to America
of another Franklin, we must realize that it was fortunate both
for Thompson and the world that his peculiar genius found in
Europe a field for its development that America could not have af-
forded.
On leaving America he wrote to his father-in-law, the Rev.
Walker of Concord:
"Though I foresee and realize the distress, poverty and wretch-
edness that must unavoidably attend my Pilgrimage in unknown
lands, destitute of fortune, friends, and acquaintances, yet all
these evils appear to me more tolerable than the treatment which
I met with from the hands of mine ungrateful countrymen."
If this really represents Benjamin Thompson's anticipations
on going to England, it cannot be said that he displayed his usual
foresight, for he rapidly rose to a position of wealth, power and
esteem there. The government was suffering severely from lack
of information on conditions in America. Sir George Germain,
the Colonial Secretary of State, in their first interview recognized
the knowledge and ability of this young man of twenty-three, and
gave him a place in the Colonial Office, admitting him as a mem-
ber of his own household.
Science was never to Thompson a mental divertisement, but
was always intimately associated with his daily duties. Since he
was now engaged in improving the military efficiency of the army,
he devoted his attention to the study of the action of gunpowder,
"to determine the most advantageous situation for the vent in
fire-arms, and to measure the velocities of bullets and the recoil
under various circumstances. I had hopes, also, of being able to
find out the velocity of the inflammation of gunpowder, and to
measure its force more accurately than had hitherto been done."
He persistently attacked by every means in his power the prob-
lems of explosives which Nobel, Abel, Berthelot, and Kellner have
in recent years more successfully studied, chiefly along the lines
indicated by him and, in part, using his apparatus. He laid the
1 8 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
foundation of the science of interior ballistics by an attempt to
measure the explosive force of the gases produced by the explo-
sion of gunpowder, inventing a machine which has ever since
been known as "the Rumford Apparatus." This consisted of a
small steel mortar mounted vertically upon a bed of solid masonry.
The J inch bore was closed by a steel hemisphere upon which
weights were placed and these increased until they were no longer
lifted by the force of the gunpowder exploded. To avoid loss of
energy by the escape of gases through the vent, the powder was
ignited by applying a red-hot iron ball to the lower end. He
gradually increased the charge of powder, until an 8,000 pound
cannon had to be used as a weight to counterbalance the force of
the explosion, and then the barrel of the apparatus burst into
halves. His numerical results were too high, but it was almost a
century before better figures were obtained.
Rumford's earlier experiments in England were mostly directed
to the problems of external ballistics, especially to the determina-
tion of the velocity of the projectile under different charges and
kinds of powders and methods of firing. For this purpose he first
made use of the ballistic pendulum invented by Robins. The
bullet was fired into a wooden target backed with iron and sus-
pended so as to swing back freely when struck. By measuring
the chord of the arc of its swing and knowing its weight and that
of the bullet, the velocity of the bullet could be calculated.
Rumford improved upon this by measuring the momentum of
the gun as well as the equal momentum of the bullet by suspend-
ing the gun itself as a pendulum by two cords. This not only
gave another series of figures as a check to the former, but it was
more accurate, because the movement of a large mass at low
velocity can be more easily measured than of a small mass at high
velocity.
In his later experiments in Munich he discarded the pendulum
target and measured the velocity of the ball solely by the recoil
of the gun, experimenting with brass cannon as large as twelve-
pounders, in a building which he had erected for the purpose.
He was never content with laboratory experiments, and to con-
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 19
tinue his investigations on gunpowder, he volunteered to go on a
cruise of the British fleet under Sir Charles Hardy, in 1779. As
no enemy was encountered, he persuaded his friends among the
captains "to make a number of experiments, and particularly by
firing a greater number of bullets at once from their heavy guns
than had ever been done before, and observing the distances at
which they fell in the sea ... which gave me much new light
relative to the action of fired gunpowder."
On this cruise also he devised a simpler and more systematic
code of marine signals than that in use. Another result of this
three months' cruise was the plan of a swift copper-sheathed frigate.
When, on account of overwork, his health failed and he went to
Bath to recuperate, he made a series of experiments on cohesion.
These experiments introduced him to Sir Joseph Banks, President
of the Royal Society, with whom he was afterwards associated in
founding the Royal Institution, and in 1779 he was elected a
Fellow of the Royal Society.
Thompson rose rapidly in the Colonial Office, where he became
Secretary for Georgia, inspector of all the clothing sent to America,
and Under Secretary of State. About the time of the fall of his
patron, Lord Germain, on account of the surrender of Cornwallis,
he returned to a military career, and was made Lieutenant-Colonel
of the King's American Dragoons, a regiment of cavalry which he
was to recruit on Long Island. His ship, however, was driven by
storms to Charleston, South Carolina, where he reorganized the
remains of the royal army under Colonel Leslie, and conducted
a successful cavalry raid against Marion's Brigade.
In the spring he arrived at Long Island, and by August i, 1782,
he got the King's American Dragoons in shape to be inspected in
their camp about three miles east of Flushing by Prince William
Henry, Duke of Clarence, the third son of the King, and after-
wards King William the Fourth. The royal cause was, however,
hopeless, and the troops under Colonel Thompson did nothing
during the year but exasperate the patriots among whom they
were quartered. The inhabitants of Long Island preserved for
more than one generation the memory of their depredations,
20 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
especially the destruction of a church and burying-ground in the
construction of a fort near Huntington, where the tombstones were
used for ovens and stamped the bread with their inscriptions.
Upon his return to England after the disbandment of the
British forces, Thompson was made Colonel on half-pay for life,
but there was no chance to make use of his military talents in
the British service. Accordingly he determined to seek his fortune
elsewhere and September 17, 1783, embarked at Dover for the
continent. Upon the same boat happened to be Henry Laurens,
a former President of the American Congress, recently released
from the Tower, and the historian Gibbon who in his letters com-
plains that the three spirited horses of "Mr. Secretary, Colonel,
Admiral, Philosopher Thompson," added to the distress of the
Channel passage.
He intended to go to Vienna to volunteer in the Austrian army
against the Turks, but a curious chance diverted him to Bavaria
where he spent much of his life and rose to the highest attain-
able position. Here again, as in New Hampshire, he owed the
beginning of his good fortune to his handsome appearance on
horseback at a military parade. At Strasburg, Prince Maximilian
of Deux-Ponts, afterwards Elector and King of Bavaria, but
then major-general in the French service, while reviewing the
troops noticed among the spectators an officer in a foreign uni-
form, mounted on a fine English horse, and spoke to him. When
Thompson told him that he came from serving in the American
war, the Prince replied that some of the French officers in his
suite must have fought against him, pointing to the French of-
ficers who had been in the American Army at Yorktown. Be-
coming interested in his conversation, the Prince invited Colonel
Thompson to dine with him and to meet his late foes. At the table
maps were produced and they discussed the campaign until late,
and the talk was resumed on the following day. The Prince was
so taken with him that he gave him a cordial letter to his uncle,
the Elector Palatine, Reigning Duke of Bavaria. He spent five
days in Munich with the Elector who offered him such induce-
ments to establish himself in Bavaria that, after visiting Vienna
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 21
and finding that there was to be no war against the Turks, he
returned to England to get the permission necessary for a British
officer to enter a foreign service. George the Third not only
granted this, but also conferred upon him the honor of knighthood
on February 23, 1784.
Karl Theodor, Elector Palatine, had, by succeeding to Bavaria,
become the greatest prince in Germany, except the Emperor
and the King of Prussia. Sir Benjamin Thompson entered his
service as general aide-de-camp and colonel of a calvary regi-
ment. He was assigned a palace in Munich with a military staff
and servants.
For eleven years he served the Elector in a great variety of
capacities, military and civil, and carried on scientific work in
lines suggested by his occupations. Honors, titles and decorations
to which he was not indifferent, he received in abundance from
rulers and academies of science. The laws of Bavaria did not
permit a foreigner to receive one of the orders of that country, but,
at the request of the Elector, the King of Poland in 1786 conferred
upon him the Order of St. Stanislaus. Two years later he was
made major-general and Privy Councilor and Minister of War
of Bavaria. In 1791 the Elector made him a Count of the Holy
Roman Empire with the Order of the White Eagle. He chose as
his new name, Rumford, from the New Hampshire town which he
had entered as a poor schoolmaster and left as a political refugee.
The city of Munich was not ungrateful for what Count Rum-
ford did there. While he was in England the people erected a
monument in his honor in the park still known as "the English
Garden," which he had reclaimed from a waste hunting-ground
and made into a public pleasure resort. The inscription reads:
"To Him who rooted out the most scandalous of public evils,
Idleness and Mendicity; who gave to the poor help, occupation
and morals, and to the youth of the Fatherland so many schools
of culture. Go, Passer-by, try to emulate him in thought and
deed, and us in gratitude."
A bronze statue of Count Rumford was erected in Munich by
King Maximilian II and a replica of it costing $7,500 has been
22 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
placed in his birthplace, Woburn, Mass., bearing an inscription
by President Eliot of Harvard.
Rumford found the Bavarian army most deficient in the two
arms in which he was especially interested, cavalry and artillery,
and he set himself to remedy the former by establishing a veteri-
nary school and introducing improved breeds of horses; and to
develope the artillery service he built a foundry at Munich where
guns were constructed according to his designs, based upon care-
ful experimentation. He adopted the method of casting both brass
and iron cannon solid and boring them afterwards, and it was while
superintending this operation that he made the observations
which led to his greatest discoveries, that heat is not a material
substance but a mode of motion, and that there is a definite
quantitative relation between mechanical work and heat. The
"Inquiry Concerning the Source of the Heat which is Generated
by Friction" is one of the shortest of his scientific papers, but it
would be hard to match it in all scientific literature for originality
of conception, importance of matter, completeness of experimen-
tal demonstration and clearness of expression. Tyndall quotes
it in his Heat as a Mode of Motion with the remark: "Rumford
in this memoir annihilates the material theory of heat. Nothing
more powerful on the subject has since been written."
The dominant theory of the time was that heat was a fluid sub-
stance, which was called caloric, held in the pores of bodies and
squeezed out like water from a sponge, when they were hammered
or rubbed. Rumford was led to question this by observing the
large amount of heat continuously generated by friction in the
boring of his cannon. If, he reasoned, heat is a substance that
has been squeezed out of the metal, then the powder produced by
the boring must have less heat in it than the original solid metal,
and therefore would require more heat to raise it to a given tem-
perature. Accordingly, he tested the specific heat of a piece of
the gun-metal and an equal weight of the borings with his calo-
rimeter, and found that equal amounts of heat raised them to the
same temperature. This experiment was not absolutely conclu-
sive, for it still could be argued that, although their thermal ca-
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 23
pacity was the same at the same temperature, they might have
possessed different quantities of heat.
Rumford's next step was to determine how much heat was pro-
duced by a certain amount of friction. If he had been content
with mere qualitative results, the world would have had to wait
longer for the law of the conservation of energy, but he had the
passion of the true scientist to express everything possible in defi-
nite figures, even if it was nothing more than the cost of pea-soup
or the loss of heat from a tea-kettle.
The apparatus he used for the determination of this most
important constant of nature, the relation of heat to work, was a
brass six-pounder mounted for boring. Into the short cylinder
of metal left on the end of the cannon in the process of casting a
hole 3.7 inches in diameter was bored to a depth of 7.2 inches.
Against the bottom of the hole a blunt iron borer was held by a
pressure of 10,000 pounds and the gun was turned on its axis by
horse-power. A thermometer, wrapped in flannel, thrust into the
hole rose to 130 F. after 960 revolutions. The weight of the dust
produced by the borer was found to be only 833 grains Troy, yet
according to the caloric theory this small amount of metal must
have had enough heat squeezed out of it to raise the 113 pounds
of gun-metal 70 F. !
Next he fitted a box containing i8f pounds of water around
the cylinder, and in two hours and a half the water boiled.
"It would be difficult to describe the surprise and astonishment
expressed in the countenances of the bystanders, on seeing so
large a quantity of cold water heated, and actually made to boil
without any fire. Though there was, in fact, nothing that could
justly be considered as surprising in this event, yet I acknowledge
fairly that it afforded me a degree of childish pleasure, which,
were I ambitious of the reputation of a grave philosopher, I ought
most certainly rather to hide than to discover."
He then determined by experiment how much heat was given
off in burning wax candles, and calculated that it would require
4.8 ounces of wax to heat the water and the metal to the same
extent.
24 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
"From the result of these computations it appears, that the
quantity of heat produced equably, or in a continual stream (if I
may use that expression) by the friction" in this experiment was
greater than that produced by the continuous burning of nine
wax candles each f inches in diameter.
Finally Rumford takes the great step of connecting the heat
and mechanical work, by calculating the power used in turning
the borer and producing the heat by friction. The relation be-
tween these two forces of energy, or the dynamical equivalent of
heat, he determined as 847 foot-pounds, that is, the work done by
raising one pound weight 847 feet will, if converted into heat,
raise the temperature of one pound of water one degree Fahren-
heit. Considering when it was done, and the crudity of the appara-
tus, this is an astonishingly accurate result, for it is only about
10% above the figure now accepted, 779. Forty-two years elapsed
before it was more accurately determined by Joule as 772 foot-
pounds. It is now called the joule, although it might well bear
the name of the rumford instead.
As an example of the way Count Rumford sums up his evidence
and draws from his experiments a clear and logical conclusion,
the closing paragraphs of this historic paper are here given. It
will be noted that his language is so simple and direct that the
most unscientific reader can follow his demonstration of the new
theory.
"By meditating on the results of all these experiments we are
naturally brought to that great question which has so often been
the subject of speculation among philosophers; namely, What is
Heat? Is there any such thing as an igneous fluid? Is there
anything that can with propriety be called caloric?
"We have seen that a very considerable quantity of Heat may
be excited by the friction of two metallic surfaces, and given off in
a constant stream or flux in all directions without interruption or
intermission, and without any signs of diminution or exhaustion.
"From whence came the Heat which was continually given off
in this manner in the foregoing experiments? Was it furnished
by the small particles of metal detached from the larger solid
masses on their being rubbed together ? This, as we have already
seen, could not possibly have been the case.
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 25
"Was it furnished by the air? This could not have been the
case; for, in three of the experiments, the machinery being kept
immersed in water, the access of the air of the atmosphere was
completely prevented.
"Was it furnished by the water which surrounded the ma-
chinery? That this could not have been the case is evident: first,
because this water was continually receiving Heat from the ma-
chinery and could not at the same time be giving to and receiving
Heat from the same body; and, secondly, because there was no
chemical decomposition of any part of this water. Had any such
decomposition taken place (which, indeed, could not reasonably
have been expected), one of its component elastic fluids (most
probably inflammable air) [hydrogen] must at tbe same time have
been set at liberty, and, in making its escape into the atmosphere,
would have been detected; but, though I frequently examined the
water to see if any air-bubbles rose up through it, and had even
made preparations to examine them, if any should appear, I
could perceive none; nor was there any sign of decomposition of
any kind whatever, or other chemical process, going on in the
water.
"Is it possible that the Heat could have been supplied by means
of the iron bar to the end of which the blunt steel borer was fixed?
or by the small neck of gun-metal by which the hollow cylinder was
united to the cannon ? These suppositions appear more improb-
able even than either of those before mentioned; for Heat was
continually going off, or out of the machinery by both these pas-
sages, during the whole time the experiment lasted.
"And, in reasoning on this subject, we must not forget to con-
sider that most remarkable circumstance, that the source of the
Heat generated by friction, in these experiments, appeared evi-
dently to be inexhaustible.
"It is hardly necessary to add, that anything which any insu-
lated body, or system of bodies, can continue to furnish without
limitation, cannot possibly be a material substance; and it appears
to me to be extremely difficult, if not quite impossible, to form
any distinct idea of anything capable of being excited and com-
municated in the manner the Heat was excited and communi-
cated in these experiments, except it be motion."
One more surprising instance of scientific insight this brief
paper contains. He not only connects heat, light, chemical action
and mechanical movement together as capable of being converted
into one another, but boldly extends the generalization to animal
26 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
life. Since the horse turned the cannon, the strength of a horse
can be made to produce heat without fire, light, combustion or
chemical decomposition, and this heat, he characteristically sug-
gests, " could be used to cook victual if desired." But this method
of producing heat would be disadvantageous, "for more Heat
might be obtained by using the fodder necessary for the support
of a horse as fuel." The complete demonstration of this sugges-
tion that an animal can be considered simply as one form of heat
engine was only given within the last few years by Professor
Atwater, by his experiments with a calorimeter large enough for
a man to live in.
Count Rumford possessed in a high degree the combination
which, unfortunately for the world, is somewhat rare, of executive
ability and love of science. Whatever practical work he was
engaged in, he at once sought to determine its philosophic princi-
ples, and, these discovered, to apply them to the task at hand.
His mind turned with marvelous rapidity from the formulation
of a natural law to its application to daily life, and vice versa.
Almost all his published papers show this peculiarity. They
usually begin by telling of some trivial incident or accident which
directed his attention to the want of information on the subject,
then he describes his experiments, quantitative as far as possible,
and gives the theory to which they led him, closing the paper
with a long and varied list of speculative deductions and possible
applications. We may take up any of his essays on heat with the
expectation of finding in it somewhere a reference to the needs of
the poor, a proof of the beneficence of the Creator and directions
for cooking soup, and we shall not be disappointed. His scientific
papers make, therefore, very lively reading, even for unscientific
readers, on account of their wealth of topics and allusions, their
clear style and their portrayal of the personal characteristics of
an interesting man. He would be a very dull person and extremely
limited in his tastes who could turn over the pages of the four
volumes of his work, published by the American Academy of
Arts and Science, without soon finding something that would at-
tract his attention and give him helpful ideas.
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 27
Because the occupations and experiences of Count Rumford's
life were remarkably varied, and his mind was incessantly engaged
in philosophic thought concerning them, his name is found among
the founders of an astonishingly large number of branches of
pure applied science. No one can write the history of the develop-
ment of our knowledge of heat, light, radiation, convection, cohe-
sion, ballistics, cooking, fireplaces, buildings, clothing, traction,
bathing, hospitals, barracks, glaciers, meteorology, conservation of
energy, gravitation, theory of colors, or lamps, without mention-
ing Count Rumford.
The popularity which Count Rumford's essays obtained was
in part due to their literary style. They are clear, logical and
direct, although in places too rhetorical for modern taste. He is
careful to give the exact figures and observations on which he
bases his conclusions, so his results can be checked and recalcu-
lated by using the more accurate figures that have been obtained
since.
A good experiment accurately described never loses its value
by lapse of time. Count Rumford's own opinion as to the im-
portance of literary style in scientific work is given in these words:
"Too much pains cannot be taken by those who write books
to render their ideas clear, and their language concise and easy
to be understood. Hours spent by an author in saving minutes
and even seconds to his readers, is time well employed."
Count Rumford could have found no situation better suited to
his talents and tastes than this in Bavaria. Here he could play
his favorite role of benevolent despot to his heart's content. The
army was corrupt and inefficient; the country was poor, wasted
by war and neglect, the cities swarmed with beggars; schools were
lacking; there were more convents than factories, and industry
was not in high repute. It is remarkable that so bigoted a ruler
as the Elector Karl Theodor should have placed such confidence
and power in the hands of an avowed Protestant and a scien-
tist, and that so conservative a community should have allowed a
foreigner to carry out radical reforms requiring the cooperation
28 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
and good-will of large numbers of people, but Rumford had in a
marked degree the happy faculty of winning the confidence of
both superiors and subordinates. Reformers with both zeal and
tact, such as he possessed, are not common in any field of endeavor.
Rumford's first work with the army was to rid it of " graft."
The officers sold outfits to the recruits on credit, and ran them
each year deeper in debt, for the allowance for food and clothing
was insufficient, while the resulting bickering and bargaining
between officer and soldier were destructive of discipline.
Rumford's first criticism was that the officer had too much to
do with his men. An officer should not be at once commandant,
trustee and merchant in his company. Next, that "it is not only
unwise but also in a certain sense cruel to put honest men in a
position in which their passions can be excited by opportunity
and example." He saw, too, that the soldiers kept in idleness in
barracks degenerated, and when they were quartered in farmers'
houses they were such a terror to the country that the people paid
them to stay away. The soldier despised the citizen, and the
citizen hated th*e soldier.
To obviate this, Rumford determined to make the soldier a
citizen and to put him in a condition where he would contribute
to the wealth and welfare of the country instead of being a drain
upon it.
To do this, Count Rumford increased the pay and privileges
of the soldiers, improved the quarters, and cut out from their
drill all obsolete and dispensable portions. Schools were estab-
lished in all the regiments for instructing the soldiers and their
children in reading, writing and arithmetic, and all books and
materials were furnished gratis. With his characteristic economy,
he provided that the paper used in the schools should be after-
wards made into cartridges, so it cost nothing. The soldiers were
employed in such public works as draining marshes, building
dykes and making roads; the military bands, that he introduced,
playing for them while they worked. Military gardens were pro-
vided, and each soldier on enlistment was given a plot of ground,
to remain in his possession as long as he cultivated it and kept it
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 29
free from weeds; seeds and garden utensils being furnished free.
Rumford justifies this on the ground that skill in the use of the
shovel for intrenching can be obtained by digging in the garden.
They were permitted to sell the products, and received pay for all
their work. Rumford's military gardens anticipated our Agri-
cultural Experiment Stations, for by means of them he introduced
new varieties of crops throughout the country. When a soldier
went home on a furlough, he took with him a collection of garden
seeds and a few potatoes, and in this way Rumford^id for Bavaria
what Parmentier did for
leness and waste were the two great evils against which Count
Rumford fought all his life. A beggar and a lazy soldier were his
especial detestations. Having put the soldiers at productive work,
Rumford next attacked the problem of poverty, led not so much,
perhaps, from sentimental love of his fellow-men as by his innate
hatred of waste, whether of time or property. A very large pro-
portion of the population of Bavaria at that time was given to
begging. Even along the highways in the country almost every
person one met on foot held out his hand for alms, and in the
cities professional beggars invaded the churches and houses, and
besieged the people in the street, exposing loathsome sores, and
exciting sympathy by means of maimed and ill-used children.
Each beggar had his particular beat or district, and vacancies
were eagerly sought for and fought for. Out of a population of
60,000 in Munich, Rumford found 2,600 beggars and indigent
persons. This mendicancy and the lying, stealing, vice and abuse
of children resulting from it Rumford laid to the injudicious dis-
pensation of alms, due to a false ideal of charity. Instead of
punishment or moral suasion he recommended the improvement
of conditions, first, by providing food and employment for every
man, woman and child. Only when this is done can the penalties
against vagrancy be enforced.
Accordingly, he began by establishing a House of Industry in
Munich, and, then, by the aid of soldiers "rounded up" all the
beggars in the city, and brought them to the large and handsome
building provided for them. Here they were given such work as
LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
they could do, for which they received a warm dinner and pay-
ment. Everything possible was done for their comfort and con-
venience. The workrooms were well ventilated and lighted, and
pains were taken to give the edifice an air of elegance as well as of
neatness and cleanliness. In the passage leading to the paved
court was an inscription in letters of gold upon a black ground
"No alms will be received here." Count Rumford gives his theory
of philanthropy in the following words:
"When preceptsfall^ habits may sometimes be successful. To
make vicious and abandoned people happy, it has generally been
supposed, first, to make them virtuous. But why not reverse this
order! Why not make them first happy, and then virtuous! If
happiness and virtue be inseparable, the end will be as certainly
obtained by the one method as by the other; and it is most un-
doubtedly much easier to contribute to the happiness and com-
fort of persons in a state of poverty and misery than by admoni-
tions and punishment to reform their morals."
The House of Industry was chiefly devoted to the manufacture
of clothing for the army and for sale; from the cording and spin-
ning of flax, hemp, cotton and wool to the finished garment; and
work of a sort suited to his capacity was found for every one, from
the aged and infirm to the youngest.
Especial attention was given to training the children in habits
of industry. Even with them Rumford carried out his plan of
avoiding the use of force. Every child was given his dinner and
his three kreutzers a day, whether he worked or not, but the chil-
dren who refused to work were compelled to sit on a bench and
watch their companions working, until they cried for something
to do. Then they were given light spinning-wheels, and promoted
and publicly rewarded as they became more skilful. Twice a day
they attended school in the same building.
The financial success of the House of Industry was largely due
to the system of keeping accounts devised by Rumford, very
much like those now in use in modern manufactories. "Lead us
not into temptation" was a verse of Scripture the inspiration of
which he never doubted, and he was strongly of the opinion that
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 31
the best way to keep men honest was tn pyp tlirnr nn rhinffl.fr ***\
dishonest, fevery piece of yarn transferred from one room to
""""aTToTiEerT'every loaf of stale bread collected from the bakers had
to be duly recorded on printed blanks. In his recommendations
for all charitable work he emphatically insists upon strict book-
keeping and publicity of accounts. All cases of relief were to be
listed alphabetically.
In his plans for systematic, impersonal, non-patronizing and
business-like assistance to self-support, Count Rumford antici-
pated the organized charities of a hundred years later, but in the
tact with which he secured the cooperation of the whole com-
munity, including the authorities of army, church and state,
prominent citizens of the middle classes, and the poor themselves,
he has had, unfortunately, few imitators. In five years he practi-
cally abolished beggary in Bavaria, and converted many of the
former mendicants into industrious and self-respecting people.
He took less pride in his decorations and titles than in telling that
when he was dangerously sick in Munich, he was awakened by
hearing the confused noise of the prayers of a multitude of people
who were passing in the street, and was told that it was the poor
of Munich who were going to the church to put up public prayers
for him, "a private person, a stranger, a Protestant."
Rumford was able to carry out his plan of providing free dinners
to all who needed them by turning his inventive genius to the
subject of cooking, and making the first scientific study of cheap
and nutritious diet and the economical management of heat. His
specialty was a rich soup made of peas and barley, into which he
afterwards introduced potatoes, surreptitiously, because of the
popular prejudice against them. The secret of its preparation
lay in cooking for over four hours at a low temperature, and by
his skilful contrivances in the kitchen three women did the cook-
ing for a thousand persons. A pound and a half of soup, with
seven ounces of rye bread cost only one cent. He shows what a
great loss of heat occurs in cooking by the ordinary methods, which
unfortunately are still in use. In particular he objected to rapid
boiling which, as he says, cannot raise the temperature above the
32 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
boiling-point, but uses more than five times as much heat as is
necessary to heat the same quantity of water from the freezing-
point, and at the same time destroys the taste by carrying off the
volatile flavors. His cooking was done in closed vessels, covered
with wood or some other non-conducting material, to prevent the
radiation of heat, in fact constructed on the same principle as the
calorimeter he employed for scientific research. All these lessons
Mr. Edward Atkinson and others have been vainly trying to teach
us in recent years. The " fireless cooker" now coming into use is a
belated application of Rumford's idea.
To obviate the great waste of heat in roasting on a spit before
an open fire, he invented the sheet iron oven known as the "Rum-
ford roaster." A dripping-pan filled with water prevented the
decomposition of the fat by the high temperature, and the flues
were arranged so that a blast of hot air could be passed over the
meat to brown it when it was cooked.
In 1795, after eleven years in Munich, Rumford returned to
England for the purpose of publishing his essays on heat and its
utilization, and on public institutions for the poor. He was then
at the height of his renown as scientist and philanthropist, and
was everywhere received with great honor. In England and Ire-
land he assisted in the establishment of soup-kitchens and work-
houses, and introduced into public institutions his system of heat-
ing and cooking by steam. Models of his fireplaces, stoves and
cooking utensils were placed on exhibition for workmen to copy,
for he always refused to take out patents on his inventions. He
writes that at this time he "had not less than five hundred smok-
ing chimneys on my hands" in public and private buildings,
many of them chronic and thought incurable. The great waste
of heat in the old-fashioned fireplace shocked his economical
nature, and he studied the scientific principles involved, in order
to check the excessive consumption of fuel, increase the radiation
in the room, and prevent loss of fuel in the smoke. He proved
the best possible proportions for the chimney recess of the open
fireplace to be that the width of the back should equal the depth
from front to back and that the width of the front should be
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 33
three times the width of the back, a rule which is followed to this
day. By making the angle of the sides of the fireplace 45, the
greatest possible amount of heat was reflected into the room. He
recommended the use of fire-clay instead of metal and of clay fire-
balls to insure complete combustion and increase the radiating
surface. Refuse coal-dust was made into briquettes. His chief
improvement consisted in the reduction of the size of the chimney
throat and in rounding off the edge of the chimney breast. Since
a room is warmed from the walls, and not by radiant heat passing
through the air, this work involved a study of the radiating power
of different surfaces and materials, and proceeding from the fact
smoke is pushed up, not drawn up the chimney, he was led to
make extensive investigations in the theory of ventilation.
As it was hopeless to make the open fireplace an economical
heater, he turned his attention to the construction of cooking
ranges and to the utilization of waste heat of smoke and steam.
In the Bavarian House of Industry he passed the smoke from the
cooking ranges through copper pipes in a wooden cask, and used
it for cooking his pea-soup. From his experience he calculated
that the private kitchen expends ten times as much fuel as the
public kitchen.
The progress of the century since then has been along the lines
indicated by Rumford. The range has been instituted for the
fireplace, closed and jacketed vessels are employed for cooking,
steam-pipes are used for heating buildings, and the utilization of
waste heat has become a factor of recognized importance in fac-
tory management. The first range built in this country in con-
formity with Rumford's principle was constructed under the di-
rection of Pyflfessnr John Kemp of Columbia College in 1708.
The question of suitable covering for steam-pipes ~use3 for
heating rooms required for its solution a knowledge of radiation
from different surfaces, and in this field Rumford did some ex-
cellent original work. In these experiments he used two cylindri-
cal vessels of thin sheet brass filled with warm water and covered
with whatever coating or covering he wished to test. To deter-
mine which radiated heat the faster, he constructed a "thermo-
34 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
scope" or differential thermometer, consisting of a closed glass
tube with the bulbs at each end turned up. In the middle was a
drop of colored alcohol which moved in one direction or the other
when the bulbs were unequally heated. When he held a cylinder
filled with warm water and blackened on the bottom over one
bulb, and a cylinder with water at the same temperature and
bright on the bottom over the other, the drop of alcohol moved
instantly away from the blackened surface, showing that it emitted
heat more rapidly at the same temperature. By moving the cyl-
inder back and forth until the drop remained at rest, their relative
distances gave data for calculating their relative radiating power.
All metals, he found, gave off heat at the same rate, and he asks:
"Does not this afford a strong presumption that heat is in all
cases excited and communicated by means of radiations, or
undulations, as I should rather choose to call them ? "
His theory of heat is so clearly expressed and anticipates in
so many respects our modern ideas, that it is worth quoting as an
example of the use of the scientific imagination.
"No reasonable objection against this hypothesis (of the in-
cessant motions of the constituent particles of all bodies) founded
on a supposition that there is not room sufficient for these motions,
can be advanced; for we have abundant reason to conclude that
if there be in fact any indivisible solid particles of matter (which,
however, is very problematical) these particles must be so ex-
tremely small, compared to the spaces they occupy, that there
must be ample room for all kinds of motion among them.
"And whatever the nature or directions of these internal mo-
tions may be, among the constituent particles of a solid body, as
long as these constituent particles, in their motions, do not break
loose from the systems to which they belong (and to which they
are attached by gravitation) and run wild in the vast void by
which each system is bounded (which, as long as the known laws
of nature exist, is no doubt impossible) the form or external ap-
pearance of a solid cannot be sensibly changed by them.
"But if the motions of the constituent particles of any solid
body be either increased or diminished, in consequence of the
actions or radiations of other distant bodies, this event could not
happen without producing some visible change in the solid body.
"If the motions of its constituent particles were diminished by
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 35
these radiations, it seems reasonable to conclude that their elon-
gations would become less, and consequently that the volume of
the body would be contracted; but if the motions of these particles
were increased, we might conclude, a priori, that the volume of
the body would be expanded.
"We have not sufficient data to enable us to form distinct ideas
of the nature of the change which takes place when a solid body is
melted; but as fusion is occasioned by heat, that is to say, by an
augmentation (from without) of that action which occasions ex-
pansion, if expansion be occasioned by an increase of the motions
of the constituent particles of the body, it is, no doubt, a certain
additional increase of those motions which causes the form of the
body to be changed, and from a solid to become a fluid substance.
"As long as the constituent particles of a solid body which are
at the surface of that body do not, in their motions, pass by each
other, the body must necessarily retain its form or shape, however
rapid those motions or vibrations may be; but as soon as the mo-
tion of these particles is so augmented that they can no longer be
restrained or retained within these limits, the regular distribution
of the particles which they required in crystallization is gradually
destroyed, and the particles so detached from the solid mass form
new and independent systems, and become a liquid substance.
"Whatever may be the figures of the orbits which the particles
of a liquid describe, the mean distances of those particles from
each other remain nearly the same as when they constituted a
solid, as appears by the small change of specific gravity which
takes place when a solid is melted and becomes a liquid; and on
a supposition that their motions are regulated by the same laws
which regulate the solar system, it is evident that the additional
motion they must necessarily acquire, in order to their taking the
fluid form, cannot be lost, but must continue to reside in the liquid,
and must again make its appearance when the liquid changes its
form and becomes a solid.
"It is well known that a certain quantity of heat is required to
melt a solid, which quantity disappears or remains latent in the
liquid produced in that process, and that the same quantity of
heat reappears when this liquid is congealed and becomes a solid
body."
From this disquisition on molecular physics he at once draws
the practical conclusion that a saucepan ought to be smoked on
the bottom and bright on the sides in order to absorb and retain
the greatest amount of heat. Stoves ought not be polished, but
36 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
are better rusted. Steam-pipes used for heating rooms should be
painted or covered with paper.
He then considers the question of why negroes are black and
arctic animals white, and goes so far in these speculations as to
lose sight of his own experiments which proved that color made
no practical difference in the radiation and absorption of heat.
"All I will venture to say on the subject is, that were I called
to inhabit a very hot country, nothing should prevent me from
making the experiment of blackening my skin, or at least wearing
a black shirt in the shade and especially at night, in order to find
out, if by those means, I could not continue to make myself more
comfortable."
Nothing in fact did prevent him, not the criticisms of his friends,
the remonstrances of his wife or the jeers of the street gamins,
from wearing a complete suit of white clothes from hat to shoes,
on Paris streets as a demonstration of their superiority over black
clothing.
Rumford says he considers his researches on clothing "by far
the most fortunate and the most important I ever made," because
they contribute to health and comfort of life. With this practical
object in view, he devoted many years to experiments on the propa-
gations of heat through solids, liquids and gases, and attained
very clear ideas of the three ways in which heat travels, by direct
radiation, by conduction from particle to particle, and by convec-
tion or currents of heated particles. These experiments were
made by thermometers with the bulb sealed into the center of a
large glass bulb. The space between the outer bulb and the ther-
mometer of two of these instruments being filled with the sub-
stances to be compared, they were taken from boiling water and
plunged into ice-cold water or vice versa, and the rate of change
of the thermometer noted. In this way he determined that moist
air is a better conductor of heat than dry. Thus he explains
"why the thermometer is not always a just measure of the ap-
parent or sensible heat of the atmosphere," and why colds prevail
during autumnal rains and spring thaws, and why it is so danger-
ous to sleep in damp beds and live in damp houses, and he takes
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 37
occasion, as usual, to pay a few compliments to Divine Providence
for so arranging it that cold air shall contain less moisture than
warm.
He exhausted the air from the space surrounding the ther-
mometer in one of these double-walled apparatus by fastening
the bulb on the upper end of a barometer tube, and discovered
that through such a Torricellian vacuum heat passes with greater
difficulty than through the air. It was by means of this double-
walled vacuum apparatus, silvered on the internal surfaces as
recommended by Rumford, to prevent the radiation of heat, that
Professor Dewar a hundred years later was enabled to experiment
with liquified air and hydrogen in the Royal Institution which
Rumford founded. Bottles, jacketed with a vacuum as Rumford
suggested, are now in use to provide automobilists with hot and
cold drinks.
In the same way he tested the relative conductivity for heat of
a layer of fur, wool, silk, cotton, linen and many other substances,
and found that heat does not pass from particle to particle of the
air (conduction), but by currents (convection), and that such
fibrous bodies as cloth and fur are poor conductors of heat, be-
cause the air in their interstices is prevented from circulating.
Recent researches on adsorption have proved that he was right
in the importance he attached to the "cast" or layer of air which
is held so firmly to the surface of the fibers that it is very difficult
to remove. He applies the principle he had discovered in the
explanation of why bears and wolves have thicker fur on their
backs than on their bellies, and how the snow protects the ground.
By exposing dry cloths, fur and down on china plates in a damp
cellar and then reweighing them, he determined the quality of
moisture they absorbed from the atmosphere, and, finding that
wool absorbed most, he determined to wear flannel next to the
skin in all seasons and climates; a deduction of doubtful validity.
The important researches he conducted on convection owed
their origin to the fact that he was brought up in "the Great Pie
Belt." Like other New England boys he was much struck with
the length of time it took for an apple-pie to get cool enough to eat.
38 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
"and I never burnt my mouth with them, or saw others meet with
the same misfortune, without endeavoring, but in vain, to find
out some way of accounting in a satisfactory manner for this
surprising phenomenon."
Having in later life burnt his mouth, this time on a spoonful of
thick rice soup with which he was feeding himself while watching
an experiment, he determined to settle the question. Accordingly
he made some apple-sauce, and filling with it the jacket of his
double-walled thermometer, he found that it required twice as
many seconds to cool as when the jacket was filled with water.
Next he evaporated the apple-sauce, dried the fiber and found
that apple-sauce was 98 per cent water. So small an amount of
solid matter could not interfere with the transmission of heat
through the water, except by hindering the circulation of the water.
He deduces from this that the reason why animals and plants do
not more easily freeze during the winter is because sap and animal
fluids are thick and viscid, and also are prevented from circulating
freely by the cell walls. By heating a glass cylinder (test-tube)
containing a powder suspended in water, he was able to see the
warm currents ascending on one side and the cold currents de-
scending on the other, and to demonstrate that heat is not con-
ducted in liquids equally in all directions as it is in solids, but by
rising currents due to the expansion of the liquid by heat. He
found to his surprise that he was able to boil water in the upper
part of the tube while holding the lower part in his hand, and that
a cake of ice fastened at the bottom of the tube filled with boiling
water required hours to melt, while one at the top melted in a few
minutes. From these and many similar experiments he was led
to the conclusions that air, water and all fluids are non-conductors
of heat, and that heat cannot be propagated downwards in liq-
uids as long as they continue to be condensed by cold.
He shows that life on this globe would be impossible if it were
not for the fact that water by cooling from about 40 F. to 32 F.
expands instead of contracts, for if ice were heavier than water it
would sink to the bottom, and all lakes would be frozen solid and
not melted during the summer.
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 39
"It does not appear to me that there is anything which human
sagacity can fathom within the wide-extended bounds of the vis-
ible creation which affords a more striking or more palpable proof
of the wisdom of the Creator, and of the special care he has taken
in the general arrangement of the universe to preserve life, than
this wonderful contrivance,"
that water forms the only exception to the universal law that all
bodies are condensed by cold.
"If, among barbarous nations, the fear of a God and the prac-
tice of religious duties tend to soften savage dispositions and to
prepare the mind for all those sweet enjoyments which result from
peace, order, industry, and friendly intercourse, a belief in the ex-
istence of a Supreme Intelligence, who rules and governs the uni-
verse with wisdom and goodness, is not less essential to the hap-
piness of those who, by cultivating their mental powers, have
learned to know how little can be known"
This sentence, from its style and mode of thought, its uncon-
scious arrogance and ostentatious modesty, is so characteristic of
its age that it could be dated with considerable certainty, even if
found on a loose leaf. The more thorough study of the nature of
the last hundred years has shown that the conception of the
"Great Architect of the Universe" given in the natural theology
of that day must be either abandoned as inadequate or enlarged
to a more comprehensive ideal of creative wisdom. Rumford is,
of course, wrong in thinking that water is the only exception to
the general rule that heat expands and cold contracts. Bismuth,
cast-iron, type-metal and most alloys expand on solidifying, and
this also is of benefit to mankind, for without this property it
would be impossible to make good castings.
During the year Rumford spent in England he gave $5,000 to
the Royal Society of London, and a like sum to the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences, the interest to be given every two
years as a premium to the person who made the most important
discovery or useful improvement on heat or light, "as shall tend
most to promote the good of mankind." The Rumford Medal of
the Royal Society has been regularly awarded every two years to
40 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
the most distinguished scientists of Europe and America, beginning
in 1802 with Rumford himself. The American Academy, on the
contrary, found the plan "absolutely impracticable" and, for
forty-three years during which very great progress was made in
the knowledge of light and heat, and especially in such practical
applications as improved stoves and lamps which Rumford espe-
cially favored, no award was made. The fund by 1829 had grown
so large that the courts were called upon to allow the money to
be expended for the promotion of science in other ways, such as
lectures, books and apparatus. Count Rumford seems to have
changed his mind as to the value of this method of promoting the
advancement of science, for when he founded the Royal Institu-
tion a few years later he expressly prohibited all premiums and
rewards. The Rumford Fund of the American Academy now
amounts to $58,722, and gives an annual income of more than
half the original gift, which is expended for the furtherance of
researches in heat and light.
Before leaving England in 1797 Count Rumford was joined by
his daughter whom he had left an infant in America twenty-two
years before. His wife had died five years before at the age of
fifty-two. Many of the letters of his daughter are printed in
Ellis's Life of Count Rumford, and give an interesting picture of
society at the Bavarian court as seen by the New England girl,
as well as a self-revelation of the transformation of Sally Thomp-
son into Sarah, Countess of Rumford. She expected to find her
father dark in complexion, for her childish impressions had been
formed from the only portrait her mother had of him, a silhouette
profile. Her mother had told her that he had " carroty" hair,
whereas she found it "a very pretty color." He had bright blue
eyes and a sweet smile. Dr. Young of the Royal Institution says,
"in person he was above middle size, of a dignified and pleasing
expression of countenance and a mildness in his manner and tone
of voice." In disposition, however, he was authoritative and
dictatorial. Always a brilliant conversationalist, he was inclined
in his later years to monopolize the table talk, and he made him-
self unpopular by promptly correcting, from his wide experience
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 4!
and remarkable memory, any misstatements of detail made by a
member of the company. He spoke English, French, German,
Spanish and Italian fluently, and published scientific papers in
the three first-named languages. He was punctilious in etiquette,
nice in dress and fond of titles and decorations. Throughout his
life he was unduly popular with the ladies.
In early life he practiced music and he sketched his own inven-
tions, but had no taste for painting, sculpture or poetry. He took
pleasure in landscape gardening, but knew nothing of botany.
His favorite games were billiards and chess, but he rarely played
the latter because his feet became like ice. He was very abste-
mious in eating, partly from theory, partly on account of his poor
health. He never drank anything but water.
In spite of a tendency toward display and a liking for elegance
in housing and habit, he was very careful in his expenditures and
strict in his accounts. He allowed no object to remain out of place
after he had used it, and he was never late to an appointment.
Cuvier in his eulogy says he worshiped "order as a sort of subor-
dinate deity, regulator of this lower world." "He permitted him-
self nothing superfluous, not a step, not a word; and he intrepreted
the word 'superfluous' in its strictest sense."
Count Rumford on his return to Munich with his daughter
after a year in England found himself placed in a position of great
responsibility and difficulty. By the defection of Prussia the
burden of resistance to the victorious armies of the French repub-
lic had been thrown upon the Austrians who were unable to
make a stand against the advance of Moreau. A week after his
arrival the Elector fled from Munich and took refuge in Saxony,
leaving Count Rumford at the head of the Council of Regency.
After their defeat at Friedberg, the Austrians under Latour
retreated to Munich, closely followed by the French, and de-
manded admittance to the city. This Rumford refused to grant,
and when General Moreau arrived with the French army, he also
kept them out of the city by the promise of supplies and the
withdrawal of the Bavarian contingent. Since Count Rumford
was now in command of the Bavarian troops crowded into the
42 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
city and camped in the public places, he improved the opportu-
nity to introduce regimental cooking stoves made of sheet copper
and fire-brick, similar to those now used in military campaigns.
When Moreau retreated the Elector returned, and Rumford
was rewarded for his services in this emergency by being placed
at the head of the Department of General Police, and soon after
by being appointed Minister Plenipotentiary from Bavaria to
Great Britain. He thus left Munich for London, but the British
Government held that it was altogether impossible to receive as
the representative of a foreign Power, even of so close an ally as
Bavaria, one who was a British subject, a former member of the
State Department and still on the pay-roll of the British army.
He was unwilling to return to Bavaria where his patron, the
Elector Palatine, Karl Theodor, on account of his age (75) and
weakness of character was no longer able to protect him against
the intrigues and envy of the Bavarian officers, and where the
unsettled state of the country was not favorable to scientific
pursuits. He decided therefore to remain in England in an un-
official capacity, and purchased a villa in Brompton Row, Knights-
bridge, near London, which he fitted up in accordance with his
own ideas of ventilation and heating. Double walls and windows
prevented the escape of heat, and the space between the glass
partitions was filled with plants; the decorations were harmoni-
ously arranged according to Newton's theory of complementary
colors; folding beds economized space, and the cooking was done
in the dining-room, without annoyance from odor or heat.
At this time Count Rumford contemplated a visit to America,
and even proposed to purchase an estate near Cambridge and settle
down in his native country. In spite of his active service in the
British army, he had retained the friendship and esteem of Colonel
Baldwin and other prominent men in the United States. He had
been elected honorary member of the American Academy of
Arts and Sciences and of the Massachusetts Historical Society,
and his Essays, published in this country, had made him well
known. He now transmitted to the President of the United
States through Rufus King, American Minister to England, his
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 43
plans for an American Military Academy like the one he had
founded in Bavaria, and a model of a field-piece of his own inven-
tion. This resulted in an offer from the War Department, author-
ized by President John Adams, of appointment as Superintendent
of the American Military Academy about to be established, and
also as Inspector-General of the Artillery of the United States,
with suitable rank and emoluments.
But at the time this offer was received Rumford was too much
engrossed with a new project in England to accept it. For two
years, except when he was sick, he worked night and day with all
his energy to found "a public institution for diffusing the knowl-
edge and facilitating the general introduction of useful mechanical
inventions and improvements, and for teaching, by courses of
philosophical lectures and experiments, the application of science
to the common purposes of life."
The Royal Institution remains the chief monument to the mem-
ory of Rumford, for thanks to his excellent plan and organiza-
tion, and to the men of unusual ability who have occupied posi-
tions in it, there have emanated from it many of the most impor-
tant discoveries in science of the past century, and it has done
more for the advancement of knowledge than the old and richly
endowed universities of Oxford and Cambridge.
Count Rumford succeeded in interesting all classes, from court-
iers to mechanics, in his project. He secured a very large number
of "proprietors" at fifty guineas or more, and annual subscribers
at three guineas, including many nobles, prelates, members of
Parliament, ladies and scientific men, and in 1800 the Institution
received the royal approval.
A suitable building was constructed, containing a lecture
theater, a museum of models and inventions, a chemical laboratory,
a library and a conversation room, an experimental kitchen, a
printing plant for publishing the Journal, and workshops for
making apparatus. Board and lodging were to be provided for
some twenty young men to study mechanics, and apprentices
were to be admitted free to the gallery of the lecture room.
Rumford, always on his guard against "graft," made elaborate
44 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
rules against any rewards or prizes for inventions made in the
Institution, and against any exercise of favoritism by the authori-
ties.
In some respects the Royal Institution departed from Rumford's
intentions as soon as he relinquished his somewhat despotic con-
trol. He obviously had in mind a sort of technological school and
laboratory for inventing useful appliances, and testing them for
the benefit of the public according to the idea thus expressed in his
Prospectus:
"It is an undoubtable truth that the successive improvements
in the condition of man, from a state of ignorance and barbarism
to that of the highest cultivation and refinement, are usually ef-
fected by the aid of machinery in procuring the necessaries, the
comforts and the elegancies of life; and that the preeminence of
any people in civilization is, and ought ever to be, estimated by
the state of industry and mechanical improvement among them."
When Rumford left England the instruction in mechanics was
quietly dropped, because it was thought that teaching science to
the lower classes had a dangerous political tendency. The stone
staircase leading to the mechanics' gallery was torn down, the
culinary contrivances and the models were put away, and the
workmen discharged. For a time the Royal Institution seemed
likely to degenerate into a mere fashionable lecture course for
"a number of silly women and dilettante philosophers."
The Royal Institution owes its survival and success to the fact
that it has always contained one or two determined investigators,
and that they were given a free hand. Rumford rightly prided
himself on his choice of Humphry Davy, then twenty-three years
old, as assistant lecturer in chemistry, at a salary of $500 a year,
room, coals and candles and a folding bed from the model room
being provided for his accommodation. Five years later in the
laboratory of the Royal Institution, Davy decomposed the fixed
alkalies by the electric current, and obtained from them the new
metals, sodium and potassium. Faraday, then twenty-one, at-
tended four lectures of Sir Humphry Davy, wrote out his notes,
illustrated them by sketches of the apparatus, and sent them in to
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 45
the lecturer, in this way securing a position in the Royal Institu-
tion, where he discovered that a current of electricity could be
generated by passing a wire in front of a magnet, which is ,the
essential principle of all our dynamos and motors. The Royal
Institution also gave to Dalton, Tyndall and Dewar the opportu-
nity to carry on their researches. Dr. Thomas Young, the dis-
coverer of the wave theory of light, was chosen by Rumford for
the lecturer on physics. If, then, the Royal Institution has failed
to carry out some of Rumford's plans for applied science, the
discoveries which have been made in the field in which he was
equally interested have resulted in greater benefits to mankind
than even his imagination could conceive. Were he living now,
he would not find reason to deplore, as he often did, the conserva-
tism of manufacturers and the delay in the application of scientific
discoveries to practical purposes, although he might still argue,
as he used to do, that the promotion of invention by commerical
and selfish motives is wasteful and unsystematic.
Although Count Rumford's genius eminently fitted him for plan-
ning and promoting the establishment of such institutions, his
temperament was not such as to enable him to work well as one
of a number of managers who all regarded themselves entitled to
as much consideration and authority as himself. His dictatorial
manner and fondness for having his own way caused some friction
in the conduct of affairs. His health was poor, and his sensitive
nature was excessively irritated by the savage attacks of the
reviewers and satirists of the time upon his scientific and philan-
thropic work. The Royal Institution was ridiculed as an attempt
to make science fashionable, and his efforts in behalf of the poor
were attacked on two different grounds, by the radicals as an
attempt to squeeze down the poor to a lower standard of life by
feeding them on such stuff as Indian corn and potatoes; and, on
the other hand, by aristocrats, because it was dangerous to society
to instil into the minds of the lower classes ideas above their sta-
tion. It was thought to be a degradation of science to apply it to
such ignoble purposes as stoves and pots. Peter Pindar, for ex-
ample, writes:
46 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
"Knight of the dish-clout, whereso'er I walk,
I hear thee, Rumford, all the kitchen talk:
Note of melodious cadence on my ear,
Loud echoes, 'Rumford' here and 'Rumford' there.
Lo! every parlor, drawingroom, I see,
Boasts of thy stoves, and talks of naught but thee."
After two years in his quiet villa in Brompton Row his visits
to the continent became longer and more frequent, as he looked
about for a new field of activity. Besides his offer from America,
he had an invitation from the Czar of Russia to enter his service,
and the new Elector of Bavaria, afterwards made king by Napo-
leon, showed him some favor and increased his pension. But
Paris drew him the strongest, chiefly by two attractions, Napoleon
and Madame Lavoisier. At a meeting of the French Institute in
1801 he sat near the First Consul, while Volta read his paper on
his galvanic pile, which was discussed by Napoleon with great
clearness and force. When Rumford was presented to him,
Napoleon said he knew him by reputation, and that the French
nation had adopted some of his inventions. Immediately after
this interview he received an invitation to dine with Napoleon, as
the only stranger present. Rumford was later elected a member of
the French Institute, on the same date as Jefferson, President of
the United States, and he contributed to it many important papers.
He had become intimately acquainted with Madame Lavoisier
while traveling in Switzerland, and, since she was handsome,
rich, clever in conversation and interested in science, he had rea-
son to suppose that she would make a desirable wife. She was
the daughter of Mr. Paulze, a contractor of the finances under the
old regime. At fourteen she had been married to the chemist
Lavoisier, then twice her age, and she assisted him in the labora-
tory, in translating and in drawing the illustrations for his great
Traiie de Chimie. When the Revolution broke out Lavoisier was
arrested at the instigation of Marat, whose essay on fire he had
contemptuously criticized. When brought before the revolutionary
tribunal in 1793 Lavoisier begged for a few more days of life, in
order to see the outcome of a chemical experiment on which he
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 47
was engaged, but Coffinhal, vice-president of the tribunal, de-
clared that "the Republic has no use for savants," and so he was
guillotined.
Count Rumford was married to Madame Lavoisier in 1805,
and set up a handsome establishment in the center of Paris. But
neither party found the other agreeable to live with, as they were
both too independent and differed decidedly in their tastes.
Madame Rumford was fond of lavish entertainments and elabo-
rate dinners, while the Count ate little and drank less, and de-
tested idle conversation. Probably De Candolle's analysis of
their temperaments will say all that it is necessary about their
marital unhappiness.
"Rumford was cold, calm, obstinate, egotistic, prodigiously oc-
cupied with the material element of life and the very smallest in-
ventions of detail. He wanted his chimneys, lamps, coffee-pots,
windows, made after a certain pattern, and he contradicted his
wife a thousand times a day about the household management.
Madame Rumford was a woman of resolute wilful character.
Her spirit was high, her soul strong and her character masculine."
And one scene from their married life narrated in the Count's
own words in a letter to his daughter Sarah will be sufficient to
explain why they separated:
"A large party had been invited I neither liked nor approved of,
and invited for the sole purpose of vexing me. Our house being
in the center of the garden, walled around, with iron gates, I put
on my hat, walked down to the porter's lodge and gave him or-
ders, on his peril, not to let anyone in. Besides, I took away the
keys. Madame came down, and when the company arrived she
talked with them, she on one side, they on the other of the high
brick wall. After that she goes and pours boiling water on some
of my beautiful flowers!"
Four years of such life were enough; they parted and lived
happily ever after. Madame Lavoisier de Rumford kept her co-
terie of distinguished people about her until the day of her death
at the age of seventy-eight, when with her perished the last of the
eighteenth century salons. Count Rumford retired to a villa in
48 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Auteuil, a suburb of Paris, where he spent the remaining five
years of his life in peace and quiet, dividing his time between
his laboratory and his garden with its fifty varieties of roses, gradu-
ally becoming more isolated from society, and retaining only few
friends, among whom were Lagrange and Cuvier. His daughter
Sarah joined him for a time, but was not with him when he died.
His scientific researches in Paris were largely devoted to light,
and in this field his discoveries were of great importance and
practical value. In order to get the arithmetical results for which
he always strove, it was necessary to find a method of measuring
the relative intensity of different sources of light, and for this pur-
pose he invented what is known as the Rumford photometer. In
this the standard lamp and the one to be compared with it are so
placed that the two shadows cast by an opaque rod upon a screen
side by side are of equal intensity, then the relative brightness of
the lights are inversely as the squares of their distances from the
screen. He had an assistant move the lamps lest he should be led
into the temptation to distort his observations in accordance with
his theory. Since he found that the same weight of wax or oil
burned under different conditions gave off very different amounts
of light, he came to the conclusion that light cannot be of the
chemical products of combustions, but was a wave motion in the
ether due to the heating of solid particles in the flame. Finding
how small was the light compared, with what might be obtained
from the fuel, he experimented on wicks, air-holes, polyflame
burners, chimneys, etc., until he had constructed fourteen differ-
ent kinds of lamps. According to the Paris wits, one of these
gave so powerful a light that a man carrying it in the street was
so blinded by it that he could not find his way home, but wandered
in the Bois de Boulogne all night.
He anticipated the impressionist artists in the discovery of
blue shadows, and, by a series of very skilful experiments, he
showed that whenever shadows were cast by two lights of differ-
ent colors, the shadows were of the complementary color, one real
and the other imaginary. Each color called up in the mind its
companion which, when combined with it, produced a pure white.
BENJAMIN THOMPSON, COUNT RUMFORD 49
He calls attention to the value of such studies for artists, house
furnishers and " ladies choosing ribbons," and suggests enter-
tainments of color harmonies, like musical concerts. Rumford
also experimented on the chemical effects produced by light, such
as the deposition of a film of metallic gold and silver on a ribbon
or slip of ivory which had been dipped in a solution of their salts;
a reaction which forms the basis of modern photography.
His researches on heat and light were based upon determina-
tions of the heat of combustion of the fuel used by means of an
ingeniously devised calorimeter. In this the products of com-
bustion are drawn through a worm immersed in a known quantity
of water and the increase in the temperature of the water deter-
mined by a thermometer immersed in it. By having the water
at the beginning of the experiment about as much cooler than the
room as it was warmer at the end, one of the chief sources of error,
that of loss of heat to the air, was practically eliminated: a method
still in use. With this apparatus, which has only recently been
superseded by the bomb calorimeter using compressed oxygen,
he determined with remarkable accuracy the heat of burning alco-
hol, hydrogen, carbon and many kinds of wood, coal, oil and wax.
From a determination of the heat of combustion of wood and of
charcoal made from it, he deduced the fact that the gas lost in
making charcoal is the most valuable part of the fuel.
In looking over Count Rumford's papers after a hundred years
of scientific work has been done in the fields where he was a
pioneer, one is forcibly struck by his selection of what were the
most important problems to be solved. This is shown, for ex-
ample, in the interest he took in the inconspicuous phenomena
of surface tension, and his study of the pellicle covering the sur-
face of water, which supports a globule of mercury as in a pocket,
and gives footing to water-spiders. He clearly shows the impor-
tance of this in movements of sap in the trees and of the fluids of
the animals; a line of investigation that just now is proving ex-
tremely fruitful in physics and physiology.
While in Paris he experimented on the proper construction of
wagon wheels, and invented a dynamometer by which the pull of
50 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
the horse was registered by the needle of a spring-balance. Having
ascertained in this way that broad tires reduced the traction
power, he adopted them for his carriage notwithstanding the jeers
of the street crowds.
Count Rumford died in Auteuil August 21, 1814, in his sixty-
second year. Baron Cuvier, Permanent Secretary of the French
Institute, and his intimate friend, pronounced the eulogy before
the Institute, coupling his name with that of another recently
deceased member, Parmentier, who introduced the potato into
France. Both savants, he says, were defenders of the human
race against its two greatest enemies, hunger and cold; both
these enemies are to be fought with the same weapon, the proper
use of carbon compounds. The physicist who invents an econom-
ical fireplace is as though he had added acres of wood; the botanist
who brings a new edible plant virtually increases the arable land.
In laboring for the poor, Count Rumford was rewarded by his
greatest discoveries, so Fontenelle's remark could be applied
to him that "he had taken the same road to Heaven and to the
Academy."
fijr*n *7 ^/-t. &Jt*S*r&*** ^a^l^^L^^^^^^
ALEXANDER WILSON
ORNITHOLOGIST
1766-1813
BY WITMER STONE
ALEXANDER WILSON has been termed "the father of American
Ornithology," and not without reason. He was not the pioneer
writer upon American birds as Catesby, Forster and others pre-
ceded him by many years, but to him we are indebted for the first
comprehensive work on the birds of our country at large, and the
first work which merited the title that he bestowed upon it, Amer-
ican Ornithology.
Wilson's Ornithology was not a scientific work so far as mat-
ters of anatomy and taxonomy were concerned. Indeed, knowl-
edge of these subjects was not very far advanced at that day
and our author had given them little attention. His aim was to
picture each bird as accurately as his skill permitted both with
brush and pen and to include in his text, backgrounds and side-
lights upon its life and haunts drawn from his travels and rambles
through wood and field.
Love of nature always predominates over technique and this
spirit of the Ornithology seems to have pervaded much of our
subsequent ornithological literature to a great extent. Possibly
the nature of the study is to some degree responsible, but this early
work seems to have set a style which has been followed in the vol-
umes that have succeeded it.
Wilson's character is in no small degree reflected in his work.
He was not a scientific man in the modern sense, not a closet
naturalist, but a poet who loved nature for herself and he took up
the study of ornithology not as science but because the beauty of
the birds and the melody of their songs appealed to him.
He later recognized the importance of scientific accuracy and
bibliographic research, but this came as a secondary result of the
line of work upon which he had set out, and was not a primary
interest with him. His Ornithology was born in the woods not in
the museum or library.
J Wilson was doubtless acquainted with the birds of his native
country and knew them by name just as he knew the thistle, the
* w heather and the bracken, for upon landing in America one of
his first comments was upon the strange birds and shrubs that
surrounded him, but there is no evidence that he had any early
inclination toward the study of birds except as they formed a part
of nature which was ever dear to him.
Every lover of nature seems to have within him more or less
latent talent for art, poetry and natural history, and circumstances
largely determine which of the three comes most prominently to
the surface. In Wilson, poetry first filled his mind and became
the aim of his life, but his talent in this direction was not suffi-
ciently great to earn him conspicuous notoriety and it was as a
chronicler of nature that he became famous though he did not
enter upon this role until the last decade of his life.
Alexander Wilson was born in the Seedhills of Paisley in
Renfrewshire, Scotland, July 6, 1766, the son of Alexander Wilson
and Mary McNab. The early death of his mother may have
had some effect upon his after life as it is said that she intended
that he should study for the ministry. However this may be his
father and stepmother seem to have done as much for him as
their poverty and the large size of their family permitted. He at-
tended the Paisley grammar school and learned to read and write,
but was compelled in later life to make up for many deficiencies
which had they been supplied at the proper time would have aided
him greatly in his life's work.
While a small boy he was engaged for a short time, at least, as
a cattle herd on the farm of Bakerfield, but when only thirteen
years of age became apprenticed to his brother-in-law, William
Duncan, to learn the "art of weaving" which was the occupation
of nearly all of his friends and relatives.
ALEXANDER WILSON 53
Even at this time Wilson was writing verses and his mind was
ever turning to the outdoor life which was dear to his heart and
in comparison with which the loom was a sorry bondage. As
the only visible means of earning a living he continued weaving
until 1789 when he joined his brother-in-law in a tour of eastern
Scotland as a peddler. This undertaking was prompted by his
love of tramping and his restlessness under uncongenial confine-
ment; not by any love or ability for trading, for that he did not
possess. While gratifying his taste for outdoor life he was by no
means benefited financially by the change. However, he gave
full rein to his poetical ambition, and with his characteristic
impetuosity he soon had visions of publishing his volume of verses
and sharing in the notoriety that had just greeted the issue of
Burns' first poems. Wilson was evidently acquainted with Burns
as some of his verses show and entertained a very high opinion of
him. To what extent Burns' success may have influenced him
or his style is hard to say, but one of the best of Wilson's produc-
tions published anonymously was attributed to the "plowman,"
doubtless to the author's great gratification.
Wilson reached the height of his practical ambition in 1790
when he published a volume of his poetical writings. It was,
however, an indifferent production and failed to bring him the
renown that he coveted. In 1792 he was back at the loom but
as before despondent and unhappy and in sore straits financially.
He continued to publish occasional poems in the local papers and
now and then indulged in sarcastic verses on certain civil authori-
ties and other self-important personages. This practice finally
brought him face to face with libel charges, resulting in fines and
imprisonment.
Upon his release, consumed with bitterness and more despond-
ent than ever he resolved to leave his native country and try his
fortune in America. Accordingly, accompanied by his nephew,
William Duncan, he sailed from Belfast on May 23, 1794, and
reached the mouth of Delaware bay on the nth of July.
Impatient to be once more ashore they landed at New Castle,
Delaware, " happy as mortals could be" and went on foot to
54 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Wilmington and thence to Philadelphia through virgin forest
most of the way, past log cabins, and occasional farms. "On
the way," Wilson writes to his parents, "I did not observe one
bird such as those in Scotland but all much richer in color . . .
some red birds, several of which I shot for our curiosity." This
quotation is worthy of note as it shows an early interest in birds
and an appreciation of the difference in the avi-fauna of the two
countries. At the same time we find no further mention of birds
in his correspondence for many years.
The two weavers found no opening for men of their trade in
Philadelphia and seem to have been compelled to accept any kind
of employment that was offered. Wilson, always of a delicate
constitution and unfitted for hard labor, succeeded in securing a
school first at Frankford and later at Milestown, a short distance
north of the city. The requisites of the country schoolmaster
were not very severe at this time, and as Wilson wrote a good hand
and had always been a reader his education, in spite of early short-
comings, was apparently fully equal to the calls made upon it.
With the idea of advancing in this profession he seems to have
been constantly endeavoring to improve himself in mathematics
and other studies in which he recognized himself as deficient.
His particular friend at this period of his life was Charles Orr,
a writing master in Philadelphia and a man of studious nature
with whom Wilson maintained an active correspondence. His
letters of September, 1800, show that he had been forced to relin-
quish his school on account of ill health, but at the earnest request
of the trustees agreed to try it again. "I was attached to the chil-
dren and to the people," he wrote, "and if they would allow me
one week more to ramble about, I would once more engage, though
I should die in their service. My request was immediately acceded
to, and I am once more the dominie of Milestown school." Later
he writes, "I have begun the old way again and have about thirty
scholars. I study none and take my morning and evening ramble
regularly. Do you spend any of your leisure hours with the
puzzling chaps, algebra and trigonometry, etc., or are you wholly
absorbed in the study of mechanics ? You must write me particu-
ALEXANDER WILSON 55
larly. I think I shall take a ride 15 or 20 miles on Saturday. I
find riding agrees better with me than any other exercise. I
always feel cheerful after it, and can eat confoundedly. Have
you made any new discoveries in the Heaven above, or the earth
beneath, with your telescope or microscope?"
At this time his nephew had moved to Ovid, Cayuga county,
New York, where they had purchased a tract of land and begun
to farm. Other members of his family came hither from Scotland
and it seems to have been Wilson's intention to join them though
he afterwards abandoned the idea.
In 1801 Wilson left Milestown and obtained a school at Bloom-
field, N. J., where he remained about a year. He seems to have
had little trouble in securing positions. School-teachers, were, to
be sure, scarce and salaries small, as he complained bitterly with
respect to his Bloomfield engagement where the people "paid
their minister 250 pounds a year for preaching twice a week and
their teacher 40 dollars a quarter for the most spirit-sinking,
laborious work, six, I may say twelve times weekly."
Wilson, however, seems to have possessed the requisites of a
teacher in no small degree; he was both a disciplinarian and an
instructor and succeeded in his main object, that of imparting
knowledge to his pupils. He also seems to have gained the respect
and good-will of the people among whom he established himself
so that they were loath to have him leave them. In describing
his Bloomfield school he writes: "The schoolhouse in which I
teach is situated at the extremity of a spacious level plain of sand
thinly covered with grass. In the centre of this plain stands a
newly erected stone meeting-house, 80 feet by 60, which forms a
striking contrast with my sanctum sanctorum, which has been
framed of logs some 100 years ago, and looks like an old sentry
box. The scholars have been accustomed to great liberties by
their former teacher. They used to put stones in his pocket, etc.,
etc. I was told that the people did not like to have their children
punished, but I began with such a system of terror as soon estab-
lished my authority most effectually. I succeed in teaching them
to read and I care for none of their objections."
56 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Wilson became involved in a love affair while at Milestown,
which did not end happily for him, and his sensitive nature ever
subject to fits of despondency became more than ever affected
during his stay at Bloomfield where he was surrounded by stran-
gers. He proposed to his friend Orr that they open a school
somewhere under their joint management; he even thought of
turning his back upon his adopted country and returning to the
shores of Caledonia, and meanwhile he consoled himself in his
solitude with writing poems.
In February, 1802, he moved again, this time to take charge of
the school at Gray's Ferry just outside the city of Philadelphia.
He had evidently not recovered from his despondency, as he writes,
"I shall recommence that painful profession once more with the
same gloomy sullen resignation that a prisoner re-enters his dun-
geon or a malefactor mounts the scaffold; fate urges him, necessity
me. The present pedagogue is a noisy, outrageous fat old cap-
tain of a ship, who has taught these ten years in different places.
You may hear him bawling 300 yards off. The boys seem to
pay as little regard to it as ducks to the rumbling of a stream
under them. I shall have many difficulties to overcome in estab-
lishing my own rules and authority. But perseverance over-
cometh all things."
Little did Wilson suspect that this last move would prove the
turning-point of his life and raise him from oblivion to fame though
not in the field in which he had always imagined that his genius
lay.
Amid the green fields and the budding woods of early spring he
forgot his troubles and his spirits rose again with their charac-
teristic impetuosity. Poetry as usual was his resource: "My harp
J is new strung," he writes, "and my soul glows with more ardour
) than ever to emulate those immortal bards who have gone before
I me ... my heart swells, my soul rises to an elevation I cannot
X express."
But poetry was soon to take second place in his consideration.
Close to Gray's Ferry lay the homestead of the Bartrams, a
curious old stone mansion surrounded by the historic botanical
ALEXANDER WILSON 57
garden the pride of the famous old botanist, John Bartram.
Here there were living at this time the two sons of the original
proprietor, John and William Bartram. The latter, then a man,
of sixty-one years of age, was a botanist of perhaps quite as much
ability as his father, while he also possessed a hoard of knowledge
on general natural history equalled by but few men of his time.
He had traveled when a young man through Georgia, Carolina
and Florida and published a report on his travels. Being ex-
ceedingly modest, however, he never sought fame by further pub-
lications, though he generously aided all who came to him for as-
sistance and advice and shared with them his store of knowledge.
Between Bartram and Wilson a close intimacy immediately
sprang up, and the association with the venerable naturalist and
the atmosphere which prevaded the botanic garden soon kindled
into flame the latent interest in birds which up to that time had
been dominated by the spirit of poetry.
Ornithology was almost as much a hobby with Bartram as
botany, and he had published in his Travels a list of the birds of
eastern North America, consequently he gave every encourage-
ment to the development of this taste in his young friend.
The meagerness and inaccuracy of the literature of American
ornithology, and the obvious need of science for the knowledge
that he felt he could supply strongly appealed to Wilson, while
the recreation from his confining school duties which the pursuit
of this study would afford him, was an additional allurement.
In 1803 he writes to a friend, "I have had many pursuits since
I left Scotland . . . and I am now about to make a collection of
all our finest birds."
The first essential in natural history research in those days was
the preparation of drawings of the objects studied, and Wilson
being by no means an artist born set about the laborious task of
learning to draw. Night after night he worked patiently with
brush and pencil in his efforts to produce satisfactory pictures of
the birds which he shot. Alexander Lawson, the engraver, gave
him instruction and Miss Nancy Bartram, a niece of the naturalist,
also helped him. Wilson never attained much artistic ability,
58 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
but his sole object, the production of faithful bird portraits, he did
accomplish and in a style superior to any work published up to
that time and to many that came after.
Some of his first efforts he sent to Bartram with the following
explanation: "The duties of my profession will not admit me to
apply to this study with the assiduity and perseverance I could
wish. Chief part of what I do is sketched by candle-light, and for
this I am obliged to sacrifice the pleasures of social life, and the
agreeable moments which I might enjoy in company with you and
your amiable friend. I shall be happy if what I have done merits
your approbation." To Lawson he writes about this time, "Six
days in one week I have no more time than just to swallow my
meals and return to my Sanctum Sanctorum. Five days of the
following week are occupied in the same routine of pedagoguing
matters; and the other two are sacrificed to that itch for drawing,
which I caught from your honorable self. I am most earnestly
bent on pursuing my plan of making a collection of all the birds
in this part of North America. Now I don't want you to throw
cold water, as Shakespeare says, on this notion, Quixotic as it
may appear. I have been so long accustomed to the building of
airy castles and brain windmills, that it has become one of my
earthly comforts, a sort of a rough bone, that amuses me when
sated with the dull drudgery of life."
Quoting again from his letters as the best record we have of his
progress, we find him writing to Bartram in March, 1804:
" I send for your amusement a few attempts at some of our in-
digenous birds, hoping that your good nature will excuse their de-
ficiencies, while you point them out to me. I am almost ashamed
to send you these drawings, but I know your generous disposition
will induce you to encourage one in whom you perceive a sincere
and eager wish to do well. They were chiefly colored by candle
light.
"I have now got my collection of native birds considerably en-
larged; and shall endeavour, if possible, to obtain all the smaller
ones this summer. Be pleased to mark on the drawings, with a
pencil, the name of each bird, as, except three or four, I do not
know them. I shall be extremely obliged to you for every hint
ALEXANDER WILSON 59
that will assist me in this agreeable amusement. ... I declare
that the face of an owl, and the back of a lark, have put me to a
nonplus; and if Miss Nancy will be so obliging as to try her hand
on the last mentioned, I will furnish her with one in good order,
and will copy her drawing with the greatest pleasure; having
spent almost a week on two different ones, and afterwards de-
stroyed them both, and got nearly in the slough of desppnd."
The next two years passed rapidly at Gray's Ferry. Wilson
concentrated his attention upon the collecting and drawing of
birds, while his leisure moments were spent in the company of his
friend and adviser, for whom his love and esteem were constantly
increasing. "I confess," he writes, "that I was always an enthu-
siast in my admiration of the rural scenery of Nature; but since
your example and encouragement have set me to attempt to imitate
her productions, I see new beauties in every bird, plant, or flower
I contemplate; and find my ideas of the incomprehensible First
Cause still more exalted, the more minutely I examine His work."
And again regarding some more drawings sent to Bartram, " Criti-
cise these, my dear friend, without fear of offending me this
will instruct, but not discourage me. For there is not among all
our naturalists one who knows so well what they are, and how
they ought to be represented. In the mean time accept of my
best wishes for your happiness wishes as sincere as ever one hu-
man being breathed for another. To your advice and encourag-
ing encomiums I am indebted for these few specimens, and for all
that will follow. They may yet tell posterity that I was honored
with your friendship, and that to your inspiration they owe their
existance."
Meanwhile the school went on and the scholars became inter-
ested in gratifying their master's tastes. "I have had live crows,
hawks and owls, oppossums, squirrels, snakes, and lizards,"
writes Wilson, "so that my room has sometimes reminded me of
Noah's ark ; but Noah had a wife in one corner of it, and in this
particular our parallel does not altogether tally. I receive every
subject of natural history that is brought to me and though they
do not march into my ark from all quarters, as they did that of
60 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
our great ancestor, yet I find means, by the distribution of a few
five-penny bits, to make them find the way fast enough. A boy,
not long ago, brought me a large basket full of crows. I expect
his next load will be bull-frogs, if I don't soon issue orders to the
contrary."
The winter of 1804-05 was very severe and the suffering was
great. Many scholars were unable to continue in attendance at
Wilson's school-house and he was in such financial straits that he
was forced to propose giving up his position. The trustees, how-
ever, would not hear of it and immediately raised sufficient funds
to retain his services.
In October, 1804, Wilson took a journey mainly on foot to visit
his nephew at Ovid, continuing to Niagara Falls and returning
to Gray's Ferry in December. This trip inspired his last lengthy
poem, which was separately published as The Foresters being in
fact a narrative of the trip in verse. The varied scenery also
stirred up the old spirit of restlessness, and he wrote to Bartram
of the advisability of becoming a traveler "to commence some
more extensive expedition, where scenes and subjects entirely new,
and generally unknown, might reward my curiosity; and where
perhaps my humble acquisitions might add something to the store
of knowledge." He also asked how he might best acquire a
knowledge of botany and mineralogy.
Whatever Bartram's advice may have been Wilson seems to
have continued his study of scientific literature with redoubled
vigor. His letters at this time contain comments and criticisms
on current publications which indicate a considerable breadth of
knowledge, and early in the following year he was appointed
assistant editor of Rees's New Cyclopaedia, then being published
by Bradford and Company of Philadelphia. He received a " gen-
erous salary" of $900 per year and was at last freed from the
drudgery of his school, though for a time at least his work was
more confining and necessitated his residence in the heart of the
city which he thoroughly detested.
Almost from the time Wilson set foot on American soil he be-
came strongly attached to the country, and his letters to friends at
ALEXANDER WILSON 6l
home constantly boast of the resources and possibilities of the
States. President Jefferson commanded his deep respect and
admiration, especially on account of his scientific attainments, and
to him he seems to have looked for some assistance in the prosecu-
tion of his ornithological studies. He sent him with much diffi-
dence drawings of two birds which he had secured on his journey
to Niagara and received a very appreciative letter from the presi-
dent. Encouraged by this Wilson wrote again just before receiv-
ing his editorial appointment and applied for a position on the
expedition then being fitted out by the government under Captain
Nicolas Pike to explore the sources of the Arkansas River; no
attention, however, was paid to his application.
The idea of publishing the results of his bird studies seems to
have taken definite shape in Wilson's mind toward the end of the
year 1805, and he at that time was making attempts at etching
on copper. Catesby for economy's sake etched his own plates,
and Wilson being no better situated financially probably saw no
other way to reproduce his drawings. His first efforts which Ord
tells us were'plates one and two of the Ornithology were sent to
Bartram on November 29, 1805, and January 4, 1806, the latter
one accompanied by the following note: "Mr. Wilson's affectionate
compliments to Mr. Bartram; and sends for his amusement and
correction another proof of his Birds of the United States. The
coloring being chiefly done last night, must soften criticism a little.
Will be thankful for my friend's advice and correction." In the
letter to President Jefferson above alluded to, he clearly states his
purpose of publishing as he says, "Having been engaged, these
several years, in collecting materials and finishing drawings from
Nature, with the design of publishing a new Ornithology of the
United States of America, so deficient are the works of Catesby,
Edwards, and other Europeans, I have traversed the greater part
of our northern and eastern districts; and have collected many
birds undescribed by these naturalists. Upwards of one hundred
drawings are completed, and two plates in folio already engraved."
By April, 1807, the propectus was ready, and apparently dissat-
isfied with his own efforts he had engaged Alexander Lawson to
62 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
etch the plates. The remuneration could not have been great
and the profits were lessened by the labor that was necessary to
bring the plates up to the author's ideal. In fact Lawson told Ord
that he found frequently his reward did not amount to more than
fifty cents a day, but he was so anxious to encourage his friend
that he made no complaint and his work was in a great measure
a labor of love. In planning for the publication Wilson no doubt
derived great benefits from his association with Bradford and
Company and it was of course this house which was to issue the
work.
In the autumn of 1808, with a sample copy of volume one, he
started upon a personal canvass of the country for the two-hundred
and fifty subscribers which were considered necessary before the
publication could be seriously prosecuted, the subscription price
being $120. Traveling by stage and on foot he visited Princeton,
New York, New Haven, Boston and Portland Maine, and re-
turned by way of Dartmouth College and Albany, stopping at all
the smaller towns on the way where possible subscribers might be
found.
His success was varied; scientific men of means subscribed as
did many prominent citizens interested in the advancement of
literature and science. Many others, however, while lavish in
praise of his beautiful pictures were appalled at the price and
still others seemed to totally lack appreciation of the merits of his
work. Governor Tompkins of New York, afterwards Vice-
President of the United States, said, "I would not give a hundred
dollars for all the birds you intend to describe, even had I them
alive."
Such rebuffs must have been hard to bear, but Wilson had
plenty of pluck and his letters home while avoiding any mention
of his success are full of descriptions of the places he visited.
Every spot of historic interest inspired him with respect. He vis-
ited Bunker Hill with a feeling of veneration and was surprised
that the people living in the vicinity did not seem to share it.
Upon his return to Philadelphia Wilson set out almost immedi-
ately upon a southern tour, visiting Washington, Charleston, and
ALEXANDER WILSON 63
Savannah, in which latter city he succeeded in bringing the total
of his subscription list up to the requisite two hundred and fifty;
" having," to quote his own words, " visited all the towns within
one hundred miles of the Atlantic from Maine to Georgia and
done as much for this bantling book of mine as ever author did
for any progeny of his brain." His experience in the south was
much like that in the north. "In Annapolis," he writes, "I passed
my book through both Houses of the Legislature; the wise men
of Maryland stared and gaped, from bench to bench; but having
never heard of such a thing as one hundred and twenty dollars
for a book, the ayes for subscribing were none."
In Charleston he found such "listlessness and want of energy"
that he could get no one to draw him up a list of likely subscribers
and "was obliged to walk the streets and pick out those houses,
which, from their appearance indicated wealth and taste in the
occupants, and introduce myself." However, his task was ac-
complished, and flushed with success he embarked for Philadel-
phia in March, 1809, ready to push the publication of his volumes
with all possible haste.
Wilson's canvassing trips were profitable in other ways than the
securing of subscribers. His scientific acquaintances had hitherto
been mainly limited to Philadelphia or to such visitors as he
met at Bartram's hospitable mansion. He knew Thomas Say,
George Ord, Benjamin S. Barton, and the Peales, while he had
met Michaux and Muhlenberg, the botanists. Now, however, in
every town he sought out those interested in Natural History. As
he himself put it: "Whatever may be the result of these matters,
[subscriptions] I shall not sit down with folded hands. ... I am
fixing correspondents in every corner of these northern regions,
like so many pickets and outposts, so that scarcely a wren or tit
shall be able to pass along, from New York to Canada, but I shall
get intelligence of it. . . ."
Notable among his new acquaintances was Abbott of Georgia,
famous for his publication on the insects of his native state. With
him he arranged for the forwarding of such southern birds as he
was personally unable to secure as well as any that were in Abbott's
64 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
estimation new to science. These Wilson agreed to pay for through
his agent in Savannah.
In January, 1810, the second volume of the Ornithology ap-
peared, and shortly afterward Wilson started westward to explore
the ornithological terra incognita that lay beyond the Alleghanies.
He had for some years realized the necessity of exploring this
country as he supposed there were many birds to be found there
which never came east of the mountains. In 1805 he had ar-
ranged such an excursion in company with Bartram, but the fail-
ing health of the venerable botanist finally compelled him to re-
linquish all thought of going, while Wilson, after failing to receive
an appointment upon the government expedition, also abandoned
the project as he realized that his finances would not warrant such
an undertaking. Now, however, the expedition was imperative
both on account of the probable scientific results and the possible
subscribers to be obtained in the towns of the Ohio and Mis-
sissippi Valleys.
His route lay from Pittsburg down the Ohio, which he trav-
ersed in a rowboat, as far as Louisville. There he sold his skiff
to a man who wondered at its curious Indian (!) name "The Orni-
thologist," and set out on foot to Lexington and Nashville. He
visited the Mammoth Cave and sent to the editor of the Port-
folio in Philadelphia letters containing a careful description of
this and other interesting points that he passed on his journey.
Before leaving Nashville he wrote to a friend, "Nine hundred
miles distant from you sits Wilson, the hunter of birds' nests and
sparrows, just preparing to enter on a wilderness of 780 miles,
most of it in the territory of Indians, alone, but in good spirits,
and expecting to have every pocket crammed with skins of new
and extraordinary birds before he reaches the City of New Or-
leans."
The territory of Mississippi through which Wilson traveled
alone on horseback was then mainly populated by the semicivilized
Indian tribes which were afterwards transported to the present
Indian Territory and he met but few white men. The route was
exceedingly difficult, being through dense forests and "most
ALEXANDER WILSON 65
execrable swamps." On the seventeenth day he reached Natchez
and from there followed the Mississippi River to New Orleans.
Here he secured a substantial addition to his subscription list
and sailed for Philadelphia, well satisfied with his trip. He
skirted but did not touch the peninsula of Florida, a land which
had he but known it would have yielded him more novelties than
that which he had just traversed.
During the years 1811 and 1812 Wilson seems to have lived
almost continuously at Bartram's, which was always such a con-
genial home to him, and meanwhile the publication advanced
rapidly.
After the fifth volume was completed in 1812 he went again to
New England to visit his agents and look after his subscribers.
Upon his return he devoted himself to the water birds which he
had previously somewhat neglected and made a number of excur-
sions across the state of New Jersey to Egg Harbor, then a great
resort for sea birds of various kinds. Upon these trips he was
accompanied by his friend Ord then about thirty years of age,
afterwards president of the Academy of Natural Sciences of
Philadelphia.
About this time Wilson began to reap the rewards of his labors,
financial reward there was apparently none, since the expense
so far had fully equalled the receipts, but his merit was gaining
recognition.
He was elected a member of the American Society of Artists in
1812 and of the American Philosophical Society and the recently
formed Academy of Natural Sciences in the following year.
During the summer of 1813 owing to the difficulty of procuring
colorists for the plates he attended personally to much of this
work and overtaxed himself. His whole energy seems to have
been directed toward the finishing of his work. In July he writes,
"My eighth volume is now in the press and will be published in
November. One more volume will complete the whole." His
constitution, however, which had always demanded plenty of out-
door exercise could not stand this constant application and when
shortly after this he was stricken with an attack of dysentery, he
66 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
lacked the requisite strength to resist the disease and after only a
few days illness he died on August 23, 1813.
The premature close of such a career was lamentable. With
fame just within his grasp and possibilities of various kinds before
him, it is difficult to say what Wilson would have accomplished
had he been permitted to round out his life.
His friend Ord completed the Ornithology from the fragments
left by the author, probably as faithfully and as nearly in accord
with Wilson's ideas as it could have been done, and later published
several reprints. The revised editions and further populariza-
tion of the work, and a work on North American mammals, all of
which Wilson had in mind, could, however, be executed by no other
hand. Furthermore the existence of an ornithologist of such pre-
eminent ability must have exerted a decided influence upon the
subsequent development of scientific work in America and it is
impossible to say what effect his later work might have had upon
the productions of those who succeeded him.
The character of Alexander Wilson, the man, may be read in
the outline of his life and the history of his work, but his friend
Ord has given us a sketch of his personality:
" Wilson was possessed of the nicest sense of honor. In all his
dealings he was not only scrupulously just but highly generous.
His veneration for truth was exemplary. His disposition was
social and affectionate. His benevolence was extensive. He
was remarkably temperate in eating and drinking, his love of
study and retirement preserving him from the contaminating
influence of the convivial circle. But as no one is perfect,
Wilson in a small degree partook of the weakness of humanity.
He was of the genus irritabile, and was obstinate in opinion. It
ever gave him pleasure to acknowledge error, when the conviction
resulted from his own judgment alone, but he could not endure
to be told of his mistakes. Hence his associates had to be spar-
ing of their criticisms, through a fear of forfeiting his friendship.
With almost all his friends he had occasionally, arising from a
collision of opinion, some slight misunderstanding, which was
soon passed over, leaving no disagreeable impression. But an
act of disrespect he could ill brook, and a wilful injury he would
seldom forgive.
ALEXANDER WILSON 67
"In his person he was of a middle stature, of a thin habit
of body; his cheek bones projected, and his eyes, though hollow,
displayed considerable vivacity and intelligence; his complexion
was sallow, his mein thoughtful; his features were coarse, and
there was a dash of vulgarity in his physiognomy, which struck
the observer at the first view, but which failed to impress one
on acquaintance. His walk was quick when travelling, so much
so that it was difficult for a companion to keep pace with him;
but when in the forests, in pursuit of birds, he was deliberate
and attentive he was, as it were, all eyes and all ears. Such
was Alexander Wilson."
So far as we can learn no one differed from the above estimate
of the man except Audubon who charges him with failure to
acknowledge information that he gave him and with publishing
a copy of one of his drawings without credit. These claims were
not made until after Wilson was dead and are so at variance with
his character as depicted by others that they would seem scarcely
worthy of notice were it not that so much has been made of them
both by Audubon and his biographers. Audubon at several
points in his ornithological writings makes sarcastic remarks
about Wilson, and there is every reason to believe that he was
much embittered at his failure to secure a publisher for his work
in Philadelphia and New York owing to the field being filled by
that of Wilson. His relations with Ord and other of Wilson's
supporters, moreover, were not friendly, and these facts doubtless
had much to do with his attacks. The meeting between the two
ornithologists took place at Louisville in March, 1810, when Wilson
was seeking birds and subscribers on his western tour. They were
quite unknown to each other even by name or reputation. Audu-
bon at the time was only thirty years of age and had no reputation
except among his immediate friends. He had made a number of
drawings of birds, but had no thought of publishing them. He
accompanied Wilson upon a day's hunting during his stay in
Louisville as Wilson himself states, but the latter doubtless never
thought of crediting Audubon with such observations as they may
have made, when in each other's company. As to the drawings,
all that Wilson made on this part of his trip were lost, and there is
68 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
absolutely no reason to doubt his statement that he secured the
small-headed Flycatcher as he described, inasmuch as Ord im-
mediately published the fact that he was with Wilson when he
shot the bird and Lawson stated that he had the specimen before
him when engraving Wilson's plates. Audubon's memory seems
to have been at fault in this instance, and his hostility to Ord
doubtless inspired this and other reflections on Wilson, as else-
where he speaks of him with great kindness.
Wilson entered upon the production of his Ornithology with
no motive other than the desire to benefit science, and he expressed
no expectations of great financial profit or sensational notoriety.
He expended upon the work all the money that he had and was
eventually compelled to resign his position as editor of the Encyclo-
pedia so engrossing were the demands of his own publication.
At the time the second volume was about ready for the press he
wrote to Bartram: "I assure you my dear friend that this under-
taking has involved me in many difficulties and expenses which I
never dreamed of and I have never yet received one cent from it. I
am therefore a volunteer in the cause of Natural History impelled
by nobler views than those of money." In the preface to the
fifth volume, too, he says: "The publication of an original work of
this kind in this country has been attended with difficulties, great,
and it must be confessed sometimes discouraging to the author
whose only reward hitherto has been the favorable opinion of
his fellow citizens and the pleasure of the pursuit." There is no
evidence that circumstances had altered at the time of his death,
and though he speaks with satisfaction of the approval of his
friends, his reward even in this line had scarcely begun to reach
him when his labors were so suddenly terminated.
In forming our estimate of the value to science of Wilson's
work we naturally compare it with that of other ornithologists.
Compared with his predecessors, his chief merit is originality. He
had no model upon which to build his Ornithology and was indeed
familiar with only the works of CatfisJ^y, Latham, TurtonJEj
j,ndj^tf^am, and the obvious errors which pervaHemost of these
drove him to rely only upon Nature herself for his facts. He broke
ALEXANDER WILSON 69
boldly away from all the fables and hearsay reports that fill the
pages of the early writers and described only such birds as he had
himself seen and such characteristics of habit as he was personally
familiar with or which he had first hand from reliable observers.
Thus relying wholly upon his own resources he produced a
treatise which at once placed American Ornithology upon a firm
basis, and upon the foundation thus laid each subsequent writer
from Audubon and Nuttall on, has simply added his portion
toward the completed structure. The first writer upon a fauna is
in a different position from any of those who come after, and
can hardly be fairly compared with them since they have all had
his work as a guide.
In the case of Alexander Wilson we find him most frequently
compared with Audubon, since their works were of essentially
the same compass. From an artistic standpoint Audubon's
work is far superior; he was preeminently an artist, both by
birth and education, while Wilson made no pretensions to art;
but as a scientific work so far as the country covered by Wilson
is concerned it added but little to Wilson's accounts, and this in
spite of the fact that the latter's bird studies covered but ten
years, while Audubon had devoted thirty years to the study
before he began publication. Indeed, to the present day but
twenty-three indigenous land birds from east of the Alleghanies
and north of Florida have been added to Wilson's list.
To give some idea of the rank of Wilson's work with the scien-^\
tific publications of the time we may quote Baron Cuvier to the
effect that "he has treated of American birds better than those of j
Europe have yet been treated." The impetus that such a work, /
produced in America and by the support of American subscribers
must have given to American science is hard to estimate, as is also I
the attention which it must have directed toward America as a
country which not only possessed a rich fauna and flora but which
gave promise of producing men thoroughly capable of making
known its riches to the scientific world and among the van of this
assemblage stands Alexander Wilson, a Scotchman by birth but
an American in his interests and sympathies.
AA**-j&. r^t^-fa
> :;:/ /
/ /
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON
ORNITHOLOGIST
1780-1851
BY WITHER STONE
PROBABLY no name is more nearly synonymous with the study
of birds than that of Audubon, and no ornithologist is more widely
known. In science and literature as well as in other fields noto-
riety is due either to the personality of the man or to the workj*
which he has accomplished, while in certain cases both contribute H
to his fame. Audubon is a striking example of this, and the aid =
that he gave to the development of American Ornithology rests
quite as much upon his striking personality and the unique char-
acter of his bird portraits as upon the actual scientific value of
the labors that he performed.
We cannot, therefore, form an estimate of his relative position
in the world of science without a careful consideration of Andiron,
theman as well as of Audubon the ornithologist.
Unfortunately no one who knew him well has given us a careful
review of his life and character and consequently we are compelled
to fall back upon an autobiography covering his early life, written
for his children and upon his journals for the history of his later
achievements.
It seems somewhat characteristic of the man that he does not
state when he was born and such mentions as he makes of his age
are at variance, so that his granddaughter states in her sketch of
his life "he may have been born anywhere between 1772 and
J 783 "; the usually accepted date is, however, May 5, 1780.
His father, Jean Audubon, an admiral in the French navy, was a
man of wide experience. He rose entirely through his own exer-
72 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
tions, having shipped on a fishing vessel at the age of twelve and
later commanded trading vessels until entering the service of his
country. He prospered, too, and finally became possessed of es-
tates in France and Santo Domingo, besides a farm in Pennsyl-
vania. On one of his excursions from his Santo Domingo estates
to Louisiana, then a French territory, the elder Audubon married
a lady of Spanish descent who became the mother of the ornitholo-
gist. Returning to Santo Domingo soon after his birth, the mother
perished in the negro uprising on the island while the father and
infant son escaped and made their way back to France. In a few
years the father was married again to Anne Moynette.
Under the care of his stepmother young Audubon seems to
have enjoyed every pleasure that youth could wish; she "was
desirous," he writes, "that I should be brought up to live and die
like a gentleman, thinking that fine clothes and filled pockets
were the only requisites needful to attain this end. She therefore
completely spoiled me, hid my faults, boasted to every one of my
youthful merits and more than all frequently said in my presence
that I was the handsomest boy in France. All my wishes and idle
notions were at once gratified so far as actually to give me carte
blanche at all the confectionary shops in the town and also of the
village of Coneron when during the summer we lived, as it were, in
the country."
Audubon's father having himself suffered from lack of educa-
tional advantages realized the importance of their cultivation on
the part of his son whom he destined for the navy. School, how-
ever, had no attractions for the boy. He says: "I studied drawing,
geography, mathematics, fencing, etc., as well as music for which
I had considerable talent. I had a good fencing master and a
first rate teacher of the violin, mathematics was hard dull work,
I thought; geography pleased me more. . . . My mother suffered
me to do much as I pleased and it was not to be wondered at that
instead of applying closely to my studies I preferred associating
with boys of my own age and disposition who were more fond of
going in search of birds* nests, fishing, or shooting, than of better
studies."
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 73
The mania for rambling about the country and collecting curiosi-
ties seemed to increase, and upon the return of his father from a
cruise abroad, Audubon was taken under his personal care.
Studies now became more obligatory, but without any marked
increase of interest upon his part or any lessening of his love of
outdoor life. At this period of his life he states that he had made
some drawings of French birds but apparently without any thought
or interest in ornithology, and simply because they appealed to
him as subjects upon which to exercise his artistic skill.
When somewhat over seventeen years of age Audubon was sent
to America to look after the Pennsylvania estate at Mill Grove on
the Perkiomen not far from its juncture with the Schuylkill. His
father it seems despaired of making a student of him or of inter-
esting him in the career that he had planned for him and thinking
him old enough to enter seriously upon life intrusted him with
the responsibility of his American property.
Audubon experienced a severe attack of sickness upon reaching
New York and after his recovery was temporarily the guest of his
father's agent, Miers Fisher, a Philadelphia Quaker, whose tastes
it may be imagined were totally different from those of the gay
young Frenchman in fact to quote Audubon "he was opposed
to music of all description, as well as to dancing, could not bear
me to carry a gun or fishing rod and indeed condoned most of my
amusements."
After a short period of restless toleration of his uncongenial
surroundings Audubon was established as his own master on the
Mill Grove estate. Here, surrounded by nature, he indulged to
his heart's content all the pleasures that he so enjoyed. He de-
scribes himself at this time as "extremely extravagant." "I had
no vices," he says, "it is true, neither had I any high aims. I was
ever fond of shooting, fishing and riding on horse-back ; the raising
of fowls of every sort was one of my hobbies, and to reach the maxi-
mum of my desires in those different things filled every one of my
thoughts. I was ridiculously fond of dress. To have seen me
going shooting in black satin small clothes, or breeches, with
silk stockings, and the finest ruffled shirt Philadelphia could
74 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
afford, was, as I now realize, an absurd spectacle but it was one of
my many foibles and I cannot conceal it. I purchased the best
horses in the country, and rode well, and felt proud of it; my guns
and fishing tackle were equally good, always expensive and richly
ornamented, often with silver. Indeed, though in America, I cut
as many foolish pranks as a young dandy in Bond Street or Pic-
cadilly."
Audubon spent much of his time with brush and pencil and
many of his drawings at Mill Grove were of birds, which con-
tinued to attract his attention, although he had apparently no
more scientific interest in them than when a boy in France, and it
was their portraiture that chiefly concerned him.
After a short time the elder Audubon sent over from France as
a partner and partial guardian a man by the name of Da Costa
who soon managed to get the control of affairs at Mill Grove
almost entirely into his own hands and proved to be such a rascal
that Audubon was forced to seek the aid of friends in order to
obtain passage to France, to inform his father of the true character
of the man under whose authority he had been placed. Having
secured the discharge of the objectionable guardian he remained
for two years with his parents "in the very lap of comfort" shoot-
ing and drawing zoological subjects, especially birds. A matter of
much moment which was also settled during his visit to France
was the approval of his proposed marriage to Miss Lucy Bakewell,
the daughter of a neighbor at Mill Grove, to whom he had be-
come deeply attached.
Audubon returned to America in 1806 in company with Ferdi-
nand Rozier whom his father had selected as his future business
partner.
A brief mercantile experience in the office of Miss Bakewell's
uncle gave Audubon "some smattering of business" as he terms
it, which his future father-in-law thought very important, if he
contemplated the support of a wife, but which Audubon found
very uncongenial. This over and impatient to seek his fortune
he was married on April 8, 1808, and set out from Mill Grove
accompanied by his wife and his business partner and provided
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 75
with a stock of goods with which to establish a general store in
the west. Louisville, Ky., was his objective point, having been
much impressed with the opportunities offered by the town when
on a brief visit some two years before.
The party journeyed across to Pittsburg and down the Ohio
by boat and saw only success and prosperity for the future in
that great country, the development of which was only just begin-
ning.
The business prospered, as Audubon says, "when I attended
to it," "but birds were birds then as now and my thoughts were
ever and anon turning toward them as the objects of my greatest
delight. I shot, I drew, I looked on nature only; my days were
happy beyond human conception and beyond this I really cared
not . . . and I could not bear to give the attention required by
my business."
While Rozier was content behind the counter Audubon made
the necessary trips to New York and Philadelphia for fresh sup-
plies of goods, and the varied scenery of river and mountain and
the birds and other wild tenants of the forests of Ohio and Pennsyl-
vania rendered these trips periods of constant delight.
In 1810 longing for wilder surroundings the business was
removed to Henderson, Ky., one hundred and twenty-five miles
down the Ohio, and here it was the same old story; Rozier con-
ducted the store and Audubon spent his time hunting and fishing
and in this way gratified his tastes while he also contributed not a
little to the support of the family. But business at Henderson
was not very prosperous and another move was made, this time
to St. Genevieve, a French settlement on the Mississippi. Here
Audubon became very discontented while Rozier was delighted,
the people being congenial to him and the business prosperous.
The outcome of it was that Audubon sold out all his interests to
his partner on April n, 1811, and journeyed back across the prairie
to Henderson where he had left his wife and child, happy in his
freedom from all business cares, and sanguine as he always was
when the immediate future was provided for.
Two incidents of this early business career deserve mention.
I
76 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
/While at Louisville in March, 1810, there walked into the store
one day Alexander Wilson, then on a canvassing trip through the
west. Audubon saw for the first time a volume of the American
Ornithology and in return showed to Wilson his own drawings
of birds. What were the feelings of the two men ? who can tell ?
Wilson made very little mention of the meeting in his diary, while
Audubon years later made charges of plagiarism against Wilson
which seem not to accord with the facts and make a disagreeable
/ incident in the history of American ornithology. It would be
/ interesting to know what part this chance interview with Wilson
and the sight of his book played in the ultimate determination of
\ Audubon to publish his own drawings. Up to this time he cer-
i tainly seems to have entertained no such idea.
An equally important incident, although it came to nothing, was
Audubon's application for a position on the Lewis and Clark
expedition. It is hard to suggest what influence the presence of
a man of his attainments would have had upon the scientific
results of this historic exploration.
Besides Audubon's association with Rozier he was also a partner
in the business of his brother-in-law, Thomas W. Bakewell, at
New Orleans and about this time this venture failed, thus reducing
Audubon's means materially. He now determined upon a journey
back to Pennsylvania and traveled on horseback through Ten-
nessee and Georgia and thence north to his old home. Here he
found that his Mill Grove property had been sold by his father-in-
law and upon receiving the sum that had been realized he returned
to Henderson and again engaged in business. For the time he
prospered, but he had no judgment in commerical affairs; new
partners and new ventures were rapidly followed by new mis-
fortunes and before long everything had to be relinquished to the
creditors of the company and Audubon was left penniless. " With-
out a dollar in the world," he says, "bereft of all revenues beyond
my own personal talents and acquirements, I left my dear log
house, my delightful garden and orchards, with that heaviest of
burdens, a heavy heart, and turned my face toward Louisville.
This was the saddest of all my journeys, the only time in my
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 77
life when the Wild Turkeys that so often crossed my path, and the
thousands of lesser birds that enlivened the woods and the prairies
all looked like enemies, and I turned my eyes from them, as if I
could have wished that they had never existed."
This financial calamity seems to mark the turning point in
Audubon's career for although prosperity did not come to him for
some years he was at once forced through necessity to make use
of his real talents instead of engaging in business for which he had
neither taste nor ability. He began to draw portraits in black
chalk and succeeded so well that he soon gained great popularity
and was enabled to settle in Louisville.
One possession with which both Audubon and his wife were
endowed and the value of whicb^ ran harrfly be estimated was a
charming personality ^everywhere they made friendsjnot merely
"acquaintances but friends who were only too glad to render them
every assistance in their power, and in the period of adversity
which came to them during the years 1818 and 1819, and at other
times later on, they owed not a little to the generosity of their
friends.
The year 1818 found the family in Cincinnati where Audubon
was engaged at the museum in stuffing birds, an occupation which
he continued for only six months owing to the failure of the au-
thorities to furnish him the promised remuneration. He now fell
back upon his pencil and gave lessons in drawing, while he was
actually forced to depend to some extent upon his gun to supply
his table.
A sedentary life had no attractions for Audubon and he could
never remain long in one place without experiencing the restless
desire to be again roaming the forest and sooner or later he suc-
cumbed. So now after a couple of years he determined on a trip
southward to New Orleans. His wife was established with kind
friends in Cincinnati and was supporting herself in part by teach-
ring. In such sympathy was she with his undertakings and with
such confidence in his ultimate success in anything he attempted
that she was ever willing to sacrifice personal comforts rather
than prove an obstacle to his plans,
78 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
As has already been stated, Audubon had always been interested
in drawing birds. His early efforts represented the birds suspended
as dead game, but later he depicted them in life-like attitudes.
Ever since coming west he had been drawing every variety of
bird that he came across and had accumulated quite a collection.
Just when he conceived the idea of publishing these drawings it
f is hard to say; he himself states that it was not until he met Charles
s , Bonaparte^ in^Philadelphia in 1824, but there is reason to think
that he had the publication in mind before this time. However
this maybehe made this trip to New Orleans primarily with the
idea of adding to his collection the many new varieties of birds
that he felt sure must exist in the swamps and cane-brakes of the
south and in the state which was ever dear to him as his birthplace.
Reaching New Orleans in the winter of 1820-21 he spent a
whole year in rambling about the country and drawing the birds
that he procured, while he supported himself by drawing portraits.
The next year he was joined by his family and gave lessons in
drawing while he and his wife filled positions as tutors both at
New Orleans and Natchez. In this period, too, Audubon made
his first attempt at painting in oils, being instructed by a traveling
portrait painter, one John Stein.
In January, 1823, the family were forced to separate for a time,
Mrs. Audubon going with her younger son John to live on the
plantation of a Mrs. Percy at Bayou Sara where she was to act
as governess to her small daughter. Audubon and his son Victor
traveled about the country for a time with the artist Stein, support-
ing themselves by painting portraits, but at the approach of winter
established themselves at Shipping Port, Ky., where Victor entered
the counting-house of his uncle Mr. Berthond.
March. i82d_mEjks a critical point in Auduboii!s-lif. In this
month he made a journey to Philadelphia taking with him his
drawings of birds and there for the first time introduced them to
the scientific world, and seriously discussed the possibility and
best method of securing their publication. He could hardly have
come to a less sympathetic community. Philadelphia had been
Wilson's home and his memory was still fresh in the minds of the
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 79
scientific men; a continuation and a new edition of his Ornithology
were at that very time being published and it is not surprising
that another aspirant to ornithological fame should be looked
upon by many with rather small favor. Furthermore, the diffi-
culties that Wilson had encountered in publishing his work were
well known and the far greater size of Audubon's plates made
their publication seem well-nigh impossible even to those who were
entirely in sympathy with the undertaking. It is not surprising
that Audubon, full of enthusiasm and lacking in experience, was
much disheartened. But this visit in spite of its discouragements
was of vast benefit to the artist-naturalist. He made the acquaint-
ance of Charles Lucien Bonaparte. Edward Harris. Richard
Harlaji, George Orel. Charles A. LeSueur and_other members
of the Academy of Natural Sciences, several oF whom became
his close friends. Harris, especially, proved not only a friend but
on many occasions a benefactor both to Audubon and to his wife.
He was a wealthy and generous man and an ornithologist of no
mean ability, and the admiration that he felt for Audubon and the
unselfish interest in the successful outcome of his undertaking
have seldom been paralleled. Ord on the contrary became one
of Audubon's bitterest enemies7*"T5e had been the close friend
of Alexander Wjlsoji, and was at the time of Audubon's visit to
Philadelphia publishing another edition of the American Ornithol-
ogy, so that the prospect of a work so much more elaborate as
Audubon's promised to be no doubt aroused his jealousy. At the
same time Ord's criticism seems to have been sincere. We must
remember, that Audubon was at this time in no sense a scientific
man, but an artist with a strong love of nature and with a temper-
ament derived perhaps from his French ancestry, which impressed
his writings and perhaps his speech with a somewhat careless ex-
aggeration of style that did not at all appeal to Ord who was of
the qyart r 1nfTayja^ujflfe{ tvpf^ Audubon loathed the science of
the museums and nis knowledge of birds was what he derived
from close association with them in the forest. It is therefore
little to be wondered that Ord while he may have conceded Audu-
bon's artistic talents, resented his reception as an "ornithologist"
8o LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
as the term was then understood. Indeed, John Cassin who was
of much the same school as Ord says of Audubon upon meeting
him many years later, "I do not particularly admire him, he is
no naturalist, positively not by nature, but an artist, no reason-
able doubt of it! 1 "
It was in art circles that Audubon profited most during the five
months that he remained in Philadelphia. He took lessons from
Thomas Sully and saw much of Rembrandt Peale for both of
whom he had a high regard.
Passing on to New York he was much more enthusiastically
received but got no more encouragement in the project that he
had in view than he did in Philadelphia, and thoroughly convinced
of the impossibility of publishing his plates in America, he deter-
mined to abandon the attempt until his resources would permit
of his going to Europe.
Returning to Bayou Sara after a trip along the great lakes he
set about painting and giving lessons in drawing, music and danc-
ing and endeavored by every means in his power to raise money.
His success was phenomenal and his wife contributing her savings
to his fund, he was enabled to realize his hopes and sailed from
New Orleans April 26, 1826, with his precious paintings.
He spent just three years in England and Scotland and accom-
plished much. His striking personality and the size and orginality
of his bird paintings attracted wide attention. He exhibited them
at various places and realized considerable profit from the admis-
sion fees, while he sold a large number of oil paintings and so
managed to support himself. After some difficulty he arranged
for the engraving and coloring of the sample plates and secured
enough subscribers to warrant the continuation of the work.
Mr. Lizars of Edinburgh, the engraver of the plates for Selby's
British Birds engraved the first plates of Audubon's work, but the
main portion of them was done by Havell of London. By the
close of the year 1830, one hundred plates had been issued. They
were elephant folio, about three by two and a half feet, large enough
to allow of the presentation of all the birds natural size, and with
1 Letter to Spencer F. Baird.
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 81
each a branch or spray of some tree or plant. Five plates formed
a "part" and there was no text save the name of the bird and
plant.
Audubon made friends everywhere as he had done in America
and there was wide-spread interest in the success of his publica-
tion as well as wonder at his undertaking such an enormous task.
He says, "My success in Edinburgh borders on the miraculous.
I am feted, feasted, elected honorary member of societies, making
money by my exhibition and my paintings. It is Mr. Audubon
here and Mr. Audubon there and I can only hope that Mr. Audu-
bon will not be made a conceited fool at last." He met all the
prominent scientific men of England and Scotland as well as many
other celebrities, such as Sir Walter Scott and Sir Thomas Law-
rence, while during a brief canvassing trip to France in 1828 he
made the acquaintance of Cuvier, Geoffrey St.-Hilaire and many
other savants as well as the Due d' Orleans.
While admirers were plentiful, subscribers as usual were scarce;
hard to get and harder still to keep, and the ornithologist was
continually reduced to such straits that he was forced to paint
pictures and sell them at the shops in order to meet the cost of his
publication.
Returning to America in the spring of 1829 he spent a year in
collecting and painting such birds as he had not already procured,
passing most of his time in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Upon
the approach of winter he joined his wife in Louisiana and the
following April sailed with her for England.
He returned to America twice more during the publication of
the work to procure additional material, one visit lasting from
August, 1831, to April, 1834, and the other from July, 1836, to
the following summer.
During the first period he visited Florida, New Brunswick and
Labrador and spent considerable time with his friend Rev. John
Bachman at Charleston, S. C., whom he first met in October, 1831,
and who later became related through the marriage of his daughters
to Audubon's sons.
On his second trip besides stopping with Bachman he visited
82 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
the Gulf of Mexico in company with Edward Harris, cruising
along the coast as far as Galveston, Texas.
Victor Audubon was sent to England to superintend the publica-
tion of the work during his father's absence in October, 1832, and
under his direction it went steadily on. The letter press was
begun in October, 1830, under the title of the Ornithological
Biography and kept pace with the issue of the plates so that the
two were finished at nearly the same time, the last volume of the
letter press in 1839 and the last fascicle of plates, the eighty-seventh,
on June 30, 1838.
The great work completed, the family had no particular object
in remaining longer in England and toward the close of 1839 they
all returned to New York. While Audubon had most friendly
feelings toward England and Scotland as it was there that the
publication of his work was made possible, he nevertheless always
looked upon America as his country and his home.
The family at last in comfortable circumstances purchased an
estate known now as Audubon Park, and included within the
city limits of New York, but at that time far removed from the
city and surrounded by woodland except where it stretched down
to the sandy shore of the Hudson. Here Audubon and his wife,
his sons * and their families lived together and carried on the pub-
lication of the other works which bear the name of the great
naturalist. Both sons inherited their father's artistic ability and
upon them devolved a large part of the work.
First there was published an octavo edition of the plates accom-
panied by the original letter press but all arranged in systematic
order. This was followed by the great work on the Quadrupeds
of America which was prepared in conjunction with Bachman.
Before the preparations for this work were fairly under way the
old spirit of unrest which had characterized the whole life of the
naturalist again made its appearance. It seemed as if he could
not settle down, he longed to penetrate the wilds of the far west
where his mind's eye saw endless new birds and quadrupeds. He
had procured from John K. Townsend, a Philadelphian orni-
1 Both had been left widowers and had married again.
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 83
thologist who crossed the continent in 1834, many new birds which
were figured in various volumes of his great work and he had al-
ways longed to see for himself some of the feathered inhabitants of
the wonderful country that stretched away beyond the Mississippi.
So in 1843, overcoming the scruples of his friends and relatives
who thought him too old for such an extended journey, he started
via St. Louis and up the Missouri, on one of the American Fur
Company's boats for Ft. Union on the eastern boundary of the
present state of Montana. His friend Harris accompanied him
and acted as general financial manager of the expedition. John
G. Bell, the taxidermist, Isaac Sprague and Lewis Squires made
up the party.
Spencer F. Baird, afterward secretary of the Smithsonian
Institution, but then a young man, had recently become acquainted
with Audubon and was asked to accompany him but decided not
to go.
The expedition was eminently successful and many specimens
of birds and quadrupeds were secured.
In 1846, Audubon began to show signs of physical failure. Dr.
Brewer says of him at this time, "The patriarch had greatly
changed since I had last seen him. He wore his hair longer and
it now hung down in locks of snowy whiteness on his shoulders.
His once piercing gray eyes, though still bright, had already begun
to fail him. He could no longer paint with his wonted accuracy,
and had at last most reluctantly been forced to surrender to his
sons the task of completing the illustrations to the Quadrupeds of
North America. Surrounded by his large family, including his
devoted wife, his two sons with their wives and a troop of grand-
children, his enjoyments of life seemed to leave him little to de-
sire. ... A pleasanter scene, or a more interesting household it
has never been the writer's good fortune to witness."
His son John Woodhouse did the remaining plates of the Quad-
rupeds, while Bachman wrote a large portion and edited all of the
text of the work.
By 1848, the mind of the ornithologist had failed. He experi-
enced no period of invalidism, but during the next three years his
*
84 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
strength gradually ebbed away until on January 27, 1851, when
surrounded by his family his eventful life came peacefully to an
end.
It will be seen that Audubon's contribution to science is practi-
^ cally embodied in the Birds of America and the Ornithological
*^Biography ; the Quadrupeds being only a joint production, with
Bachman as the chief scientific contributor. Futhermore, the two
works, the former all plates, the latter all text, represent the two
sides of the man or rather his two consuming interests.
From the outset his main thought seems to have been the publi-
cation of his paintings, the characterization of the new species
being of secondary consideration. He tells us in his journal how
Bonaparte looking over his drawings picked out the species that
were new to science and penciled suitable names on them urging
Audubon to publish them at once in some journal so that he
should ensure credit for his discoveries, but the suggestion availed
nothing and he says in another connection, "I do not claim any
merit for these discoveries and should have liked as well that the
objects of them had been previously known as this would have
saved some unbelievers the trouble of searching for them in books
and the disappointment of finding them actually new. I assure
you that I should have less pleasure in presenting to the scientific
world a new bird the knowledge of whose habits I do not possess,
* than in describing the habits of one long since discovered."
"*k Therefore to his mind the first task was the publication of the
{A plates, the work of Audubon, the artist. These plates constitute
^^as has been said the "jprpatqst tr^ute evernaid fr^-arLlQ sriftTjfii^"
In their size they stand unique among natural history illustrations,
while their style is striking, original and quite different from any-
thing that had previously been produced, but in the desire for ac-
tion, the birds are sometimes placed in what are certainly unusual
if not as Dr. Coues has said, anatomically impossible attitudes.
The biographies comprising the work of Audubon "the nat-
uralist," are on the same plan as those of Wilson, but Audubon
was a more fluent writer and seemed able to arouse the sympathy
of his reader with the experiences that he relates, while the more
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 85
or less irrelevant matter which he often incorporates into the biog-
raphies as well as the "episodes," which are interpolated through
the volumes add largely to their fascination.
The relative merit of the texts of Wilson and Audubon, so far
as they portray the habits and life history of the birds will doubtless
always be a matter of personal opinion.
Audubon's far larger experience renders many of his sketches
more exhaustive than Wilson's, while the far greater number of
reliable correspondents which he was enabled to avail himself of
tended to the same end. At the same time there are occasionally
inconsistencies and evidences of handling the subject with a sort
of "poetic license," as well as a great deal of personal incident,
which to some has appeared uncalled for. Some of Audubon's
writings brought forth severe criticism, but usually from men who
were so obviously his enemies that their charges carry less weight
than they otherwise might.
Preparing his manuscript as he did in the heart of a scientific
community, Audubon had constantly impressed upon him the
need of accuracy in the strictly technical parts of his work.
When describing his travels and the habits of the birds that he en-
countered he was full of enthusiasm, but for the technical portion
he had an avowed dislike. Therefore he determined to secure
some one who could attend to this portion of the biographies,
and generally supervise his manuscripts. Negotiations with
William Swanison failed of results because Swanison insisted
upon being recognized as a coauthor, to which Audubon would
not agree, and eventually William McGillivray, a Scotch orni-
thologist, was engaged. Just how much of a hand McGillivray
had in the work it is impossible to say, but he doubtless was
quite a factor in the preparation of the technical descriptions
and the Synopsis which was issued after the completion of the
great work, and, as Elliot has said, whatever scientific value
there is in Audubon's Biography is derived largely from Mc-
Gillivray's cooperation.
Compared with the works of his predecessors, Audubon differed,
in including a much larger number of birds with which he was
86 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
not personally familiar, thus making his work more nearly a
complete treatise on the bird life of America than any which had
preceded it. Wilson treated of two hundred and seventy-eight
species, of which two hundred and sixty-five are now recognized,
while Audubon treated in all five hundred and nine of which
four hundred and seventy-three are recognized to-day as belong-
ing to our fauna. Of those additional to Wilson ninety-three are
water birds, 1 and one hundred and seventeen land birds. Of the
latter only forty-six came under his own observation, no less than
fifty-one being furnished him by John K. Townsend, the first
ornithologist to cross the continent to the shores of the Pacific.
While honored with memberships in many scientific societies,
Audubon took no part in their deliberations and felt himself out
of place in such assemblages. He says of a meeting of the Royal
Society of London: "The evening was spent at the Royal Society,
where as at all Royal Societies, I heard a dull heavy lecture."
As has already been said Audubon was popular with almost
every one with whom he came in contact, interesting and vivacious
in conversation, a talented musician and above all with every
characteristic of the artist strongly marked. In person he was
always strikingly handsome. In his early prime he says of himself,
"I measured five feet ten and a half inches, was of a fair mien,
and quite a handsome figure, large dark and rather sunken eyes,
light colored eye-brows, aquiline nose, and a fine set of teeth ; hair,
fine texture and luxuriant, divided and passing down behind each
ear in luxuriant ringlets as far as the shoulders."
He continued to wear his hair in this fashion after he reached
Edinburgh, nor did he seem to mind the attention that he thus at-
tracted. Mr. Joseph Coolidge who accompanied Audubon on his
Labrador expedition in 1833, gives us a picture of the naturalist, as
he knew him, "You had only to meet him to love him," he says,
"and when you had conversed with him for a moment, you looked
upon him as an old friend, rather than a stranger. ... To this
day I can see him, a magnificent gray haired man, childlike in his
simplicity, kind-hearted, noble-souled, lover of nature and lover of
1 Wilson never completed his work and the water birds are very deficient.
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 87
youth, friend of humanity, and one whose religion was the golden
rule." His kindness to young ornithologists is 'again attested by
the letters and journal of Spencer F. Baird, who as a student in
New York City, saw a great deal of the then venerable naturalist
and received much kindly instruction and encouragement from
him.
While it has been his reputation as an artist and a student of the
habits of birds, that has made the name of Audubon famous, there
is one characteristic which we can trace through his whole eventful
life, which was primarily responsible for his success and without
which he would probably never have achieved notoriety. This
was__the indomitflhlf "f^g ^"^ proM^fon/'o w jth which he
carried out the gigantic publication mat had early become estab-
lished in his mind as his life-work. In spite of hardship, poverty
and actual want he persevered until success crowned his efforts.
And if, we see here and there exaggeration in his plates or if pas-
sages in his writings seen to personify the subjects or to tend toward
egotism, we must remember the character of the man, whose
pencil was striving to present to us the action and life of the crea-
tures he loved to watch ; whose pen could not describe their habits
without telling us also of the feelings that arose within him as his
mind reverted to the scenes of which he wrote, and who could not
help looking upon them as fellow-beings. This was no museum
savant but a painter-naturalist, who holds a distinct place in the
history of Ornithology.
And of his work we can truly say that no paintings have inspired
more men to follow on the path he trod, and no text on bird life
has been read with more consuming interest.
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN
CHEMIST
1779-1864
BY DANIEL COIT OILMAN
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN, for fifty years a leader among the sci-
entific men of the United States, has won the grateful remem-
brance of his countrymen by important services in four distinct
fields.
He was an admirable teacher of undergraduates in Yale
College, and was an efficient aid in building up every department
of that famous institution during his long connection with it.
He was a pioneer in providing advanced instruction for special
students of science.
By his lectures delivered in every part of the country, he
contributed, in a large degree, to the promotion of a love of sci-
ence and to the foundation of scientific institutions.
He began and maintained, with much sacrifice, the American
Journal of Science which has continued for nearly fourscore years
and ten to be a leading repository of American science.
An extended memoir of Professor Silliman, including extracts
from his correspondence, was prepared and published soon after
his death by one of his younger colleagues, Professor George P.
Fisher. This work is so complete and is based on such trust-
worthy papers, that very little, if anything, can be added to it.
Moreover, the memoir is so readable that the present writer
would not venture upon the preparation of this paper, were it
not that younger generations, to whom "Professor Silliman"
is a name and but little more, may read a short article while a
89
90 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
long biography might deter them. By the permission of Dr.
Fisher, free use will be made of his material, for which this
general acknowledgment is gratefully made.
I have besides read over afresh the appreciation of Professor
A. W. Wright, the affectionate estimate of President Dwight, and
the six volumes of Silliman's Travels, three on Europe as seen
by him in 1805-06; two on Europe visited forty-five or six years
later; and one on Canada in 1810.
For the sake of a personal flavor, may I be allowed to add that
during my college course I attended, with my classmates, his
lectures on Geology, Mineralogy and Chemistry, and I had also
the privilege of being a frequent and informal visitor in his house,
where I learned to love and admire his noble qualities, as I
enjoyed his fund of anecdotes regarding the men whom he had
met and the events of which he had been a witness or in which
he had taken part. Hearing Silliman and Kingsley, friends of
half a century, cap each other's stories as they sat together in the
parlor, after the tea-cups, is a delightful and ineffaceable memory.
I remember him at that time, when he was not far from seventy
years old, six feet in height, broad-shouldered, of elastic step,
with thin, grayish well-trimmed hair and a smooth chin, never
hurried and never worried, entirely self-possessed before an
audience, successful in his demonstrations, graceful in his ges-
tures, fluent and sometimes discursive in his speech, loving to
hear or to tell appropriate anecdotes, welcomed everywhere in
private or in public, a reverent worshiper in the college chapel,
where in his turn he conducted prayers, never troubled by reli-
gious doubts, an unquestioning believer. While his pecuniary
resources could not be called affluent, he was always able to live
like a gentleman in constant unostentatious hospitality. Among
college professors I have never known one who bore his self-
conscious dignity with so much ease and affability, and who
extended his courtesies so naturally and so acceptably to supe-
riors, inferiors and equals. Among hoary headed men, I have
never seen a finer example of conservatism without senility and
of never failing enthusiasm, enriched by experience, always
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 91
ready for progress, always welcoming new light, always encourag-
ing the young and seconding their endeavors.
The ancestry of this eminent man was of the best New England
stock. His grandfather, Ebenezer (Yale, 1727), was a Judge of
the Superior Court of Connecticut, and the proprietor of a large
landed estate in Fairfield. His father, Gold Selleck Silliman, a
successful lawyer, who had graduated at Yale in 1752, took an
active part in the Revolutionary struggle, and acquired the rank
of Brigadier- General in the Connecticut militia. He was en-
gaged in the battles of Long Island, White Plains and Ridge-
field, and was charged with the defense of southwestern Connect-
icut from the incursions of the enemy. So active did he become
that a special expedition was sent by Sir Henry Clinton for his
arrest, which was effected at midnight, May n, 1779, at his
house on Holland Hill. After military imprisonment for a year,
General Silliman was restored to his family. Soon after her
husband's arrest, Mrs Silliman retreated, with her eldest child,
to a retired settlement, not far away, then called North Stratford,
and now Trumbull. Here Benjamin was born, August 8, 1779.
When he was eleven years old, his father died, July 21, 1790,
in the fifty-ninth year of his age.
The mother traced her descent from John Alden and Priscilla
Mullins, of the Mayflower Pilgrims, whose romantic story has
been told by the poet Longfellow. She was the daughter of
Rev. Joseph Fish, for fifty years a Congregational minister in
North Stonington, Conn. Her death occurred in 1818 when her
son, at the age of forty years, had acquired distinction.
Both parents were of unusual excellence, well born, but not
in affluence, well placed, well connected, well educated, very
patriotic and deeply religious.
Until the death of the mother, the home of the Silliman family
continued to be in that part of Fairfield known as Holland Hill,
some two or three miles from the village. Upon the same lofty
ridge, commanding a beautiful view over Long Island Sound and
its adjacent coasts, is Greenfield Hill, where Timothy Dwight,
afterwards President of Yale College, maintained an academy
92 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
for the instruction of girls. There are charming glimpses of
this rural life. By birth, education and choice, Benjamin and
his elder brother, Gold Selleck, were country boys, and adopted
the amusements and varieties of exercise which belong peculiarly
to the country. Much company resorted to Holland Hill, and
near by, the village of Fairfield was the home of many families
of refinement and influence, as the names of Thaddeus Burr,
Jonathan Sturges and Andrew Eliot suggest. Here a little later,
dwelt Roger Minot Sherman.
The first experience of Benjamin Silliman, away from the
parental roof, began in New Haven, where he was admitted as
a student of Yale College in the autumn of 1792, then but
thirteen years of age, the youngest of the class save one. He
had been well fitted for his college course by the minister of
Fairfield, Rev. Andrew Eliot, who had graduated at Harvard in
1762. He was a thorough scholar who took delight in imparting
to his few pupils a love of the classics, especially of Virgil, but
unfortunately, his choice library had been consumed when Gen-
eral Tryon burnt the town of Fairfield in 1779.
Dr. Ezra Stiles was President of the college until 1795 when
he was succeeded by Dr. Timothy Dwight. Silliman's remi-
niscences of this period give amusing illustrations of the condi-
tions under which students grew up at that time.
After taking his degree, in the class of 1796, he had for the next
few years the experience of many college graduates, uncertainty
as to his future. He spent some time with his mother, looking
after her affairs, taught school for a while in Wethersfield, and
began the study of law at New Haven under the guidance of
Simeon Baldwin, David Daggett and Charles Chauncey, and
was duly admitted to the bar in 1802. While pursuing these
studies, he held the office of tutor in Yale College, having received
the appointment in 1799 when he had just reached the age of
twenty years. An eye-witness, 1 then a student, describes his
initiation into the tutorial office thus: I recall "a fair and
portly young man, with thick and long hair, clubbed behind,
i Rev. Noah Porter, D.D., of Farmington, Conn.
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 93
(a la mode George Washington), following President D wight
up the middle aisle for evening prayer, and taking his seat in a
large square pew at the right of the pulpit. After prayers, a call
from the President, Sedete omnes, brought us all upon our seats,
when Silliman, at a sign from the President, rose and read a
written formula declaring his assent to the Westminster Cate-
chism and the Saybrook platform. So he was inducted into the
tutorship." Three years later, in September, 1802, he became a
member of the College church and from that time onward to the
close of his life, there are many proofs of the sincerity of his
Christian experience.
The earliest indication of interest in science on the part of
Silliman, appears to be an essay which he read before the Brothers
in Unity at Yale when he was sixteen years old. It is a concise
survey of the three kindoms of nature in their fundamental
peculiarities! Occasionally, like other students, he turned to
verse. His piece at graduation was a poetical sketch of the con-
dition of European nations, contrasted with the lot of this country,
and when he took his second degree, in 1 799, he read a poem on
"Columbia."
Toward the close of his life, Professor Silliman wrote out from
time to time his reminiscences, having chiefly in view (as his
biographer, Dr. Fisher says), that department of instruction in
Yale College with the origin and growth of which he was so
closely connected, and as many of his early letters are also
extant, I can give in his own phrases the story of the introduction
of Chemistry into the curriculum of Yale.
For many years under Clap and Stiles, mathematics and natu-
ral philosophy had been taught. Some apparatus had been
collected and was sacredly guarded in a room always kept closed
except when students or visitors were admitted to it. This
apartment was in the old " South Middle," which stands in the
present quadrangle fortunately saved as an honored relic of
colonial times; "in the old college, second loft, north east corner,
room No. 56," in Silliman's record. "There was an air of
mystery about the room," says Silliman and "we entered it with
94 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
awe, increasing to admiration after we had seen something of
the apparatus and the experiments. There was an air-pump,
an electrical machine of the cylinder form, a whirling table, a
telescope of medium size, and some of smaller dimensions; a
quadrant, a set of models, for illustrating the mechanical powers,
a condensing fountain with jets d'eau, a theodolite, and a magic
lantern the wonder of Freshmen. These were the principal in-
struments; they were of considerable value: they served to impart
valuable information, and to enlarge the student's knowledge of
the material world."
The professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosphy at this
time was Josiah Meigs, who afterwards won further distinction
as President of the University of Georgia, and still later, as
Professor of Experimental Philosophy in Columbian University,
Washington. He was a man of great ability and belonged to
a family, of which other members have won distinction, among
them, Dr. Charles D. Meigs and General M. C. Meigs. His
lectures at Yale, during seven years, were delivered from the
pulpit of the College Chapel. To him, Silliman attributes his
earliest impressions in respect to Chemistry. The lecturer had
read Chaptal, Lavoisier and other French writers; from these he
occasionally introduced, says his pupil, chemical facts and prin-
ciples in common with those of Natural Philosophy. Thus, he
continues, was created "in my youthful mind a vivid curiosity
to know more of the science to which they appertained. Little
did I then imagine that Providence held this duty and pleasure
in reserve for me."
The turning-point in Silliman's life occurred in 1801. He
had been invited to take up his residence in Georgia, under
favorable auspices, and while he was considering this proposal,
he met President Dwight "one very warm morning in July,"
as he says, "under the shade of the grand trees in the street in
front of the College buildings, when, after the usual salutations,
he lingered, and conversation ensued. I felt it to be both a
privilege and a duty to ask his advice." "I advise you not to
go," was the reply of his chief, "for these reasons among others."
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 95
He then proceeded to say that the College had resolved to estab-
lish a professorship of Chemistry and Natural History. No
American appeared qualified to discharge the duties of the office
and there were objections to calling a foreigner. The College
had therefore decided to select one of its younger graduates and
encourage him to prepare himself for the professorship. He then
asked Silliman's consent to have his name presented for appoint-
ment. The young lawyer was staggered by this suggestion, but
after deliberation, he decided to accept the call. Thus began
the career which continued for half a century and exerted a
strong influence upon the progress of science throughout the
United States.
How should the prospective Professor of Chemistry fit him-
self for the post to which he was unexpectedly called? Where
could he turn for instruction ? Whom could he consult ? Phila-
delphia was then the principal seat of science in America; the
influence of Franklin and Rittenhouse was still felt. The Med-
ical School had already acquired distinction, and a course of
lectures on Chemistry formed a part of its regular courses of
instruction. Dr. James Woodhouse was the lecturer, in this
subject. Some eclat was given to his instruction by the fact that
he had just returned from London where he had been with Sir
Humphry Davy. Silliman's picture of the situation is not
altogether flattering. The lecture rooms were crowded, there
was no assistant, the apparatus was humble, but the experiments
were numerous and made a strong impression upon his pupil.
Woodhouse seems to have been in advance of his time by ridi-
culing the idea that the visitation of yellow fever was a visitation
of God for the sins of the people.
Among the companions of Silliman was Robert Hare, who had
then perfected his invention of the oxyhydrogen blowpipe, and
presented the instrument to the Chemical Society of Philadelphia.
Silliman worked with Hare and made important suggestions
for the improvement of this apparatus. Among the other men
of science whom he saw were Dr. Benjamin Rush, Dr. Benjamin
Smith Barton, Dr. Caspar Wistar and the illustnous Joseph
g6 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Priestley, then living at Northumberland, and not infrequently
seen at the hospitable table of Dr. Wistar.
In his transits from New York to Philadelphia, Silliman
often stopped in Princeton where he found an inspiring friend in
Dr. Maclean whom he speaks of as his earliest master in Chemis-
try. Although he did not have the opportunity to attend any
lectures there, he calls Princeton his "first starting-point" in
that science. The young chemist spent a second winter in
Philadelphia when he continued to be intimate with Robert
Hare, and in the spring returned to New Haven and began to
write his lectures. Among the instructions from President
Dwight, which Silliman received in Philadelphia was one request-
ing him to pay some attention, if possible, before his return, to
"the analyzing of stones." "The President has received some
of the basalts from the Giant's Causeway, and supposes that
there is a stone in the neighborhood of this town of a similar
nature; he wishes to ascertain the fact."
In the following summer he delivered his first course of
lectures upon Chemistry. He had prepared them with a great
deal of care, and he afterwards pointed with pride to the names
of distinguished men who were members of the class, John
C. Calhoun, Bishop Gadsden, John Pierpont, the poet, and many
others. During his absence a subterranean lecture room had
been fitted up for his laboratory, but so inconvenient was it, that
the young chemist was obliged to get several members of the
corporation into the gloomy cavern, fifteen or sixteen feet below
the surface of the ground, before they could be persuaded to
improve this faulty situation. In this deep-seated laboratory,
Silliman worked during fifteen of the best years of his life and
he has left particular accounts of the simple apparatus which
he possessed. He was much encouraged by a remark of the
great Dr. Priestley, namely,
"that with Florence flasks (cleaned by sand and ashes) and plenty
of glass tubes, vials, bottles, and corks, a tapering iron rod to be
heated and used as a cork borer, and a few live coals with which
to bend the tubes, a good variety of apparatus might be fitted up.
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 97
Some gun-barrels also, he said, would be of much service; and I
had brought from Philadelphia an old blacksmith's furnace, which
served for the heating of the iron tubes. He said, moreover, that
sand and bran (coarse Indian meal is better), with soap, would
make the hands clean, and that there was no sin in dirt."
Not long after the commencement of his duties, the College
determined to spend $10,000 in the purchase of books and
apparatus. Silliman was intrusted with this responsibility and
at the end of March, 1805, sailed for Europe. He had given
lectures during the winter at the rate of four in a week, in all
" sixty lectures or more, including some notices of Mineralogy."
Of his travels in England, Holland and Scotland, a very enter-
taining narrative was published in 1810. Few books of the
time had a wider circulation. Repeated editions were called
for, and ten years after the original publication, the book was
reissued with additions from the original manuscripts of the
author. The introductions which the young man carried with
him brought him into acquaintance with many of the most
distinguished men of the day. Among others whom he seems to
have seen familiarly, may be named Sir Joseph Banks, the Presi-
dent of the Royal Society, Watt, the improver of the steam-
engine, then a man of seventy years of age, Mr. Greville whose
fine collection of minerals was subsequently added to the British
Museum, Dr. Wollaston, the Secretary of the Royal Society,
Mr. Cavendish, the distinguished chemist, Rennel the geographer,
and many more. He saw something of the Clapham circle,
particularly William Wilberforce, Mr. Thornton and Lord Teign-
mouth. Sir Humphry Davy, then about twenty-five years of
age and "of an appearance more youthful than might have been
expected from his years/' was only in town for a day or two
before Silliman's departure, but a brief visit to this great man
made a strong impression upon the young American.
After a short journey in Holland and Belgium, of which he
has left extended accounts, Silliman proceeded to Edinburgh
where he spent the winter of 1805-06. About thirty Americans,
most of them from the South, were then enrolled as students,
98 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
and two of them, afterwards known as the Rev. John Codman,
D. D., of Boston, and Professor John Gorham, M. D., of Wash-
ington, were his familiar companions. The reader will be
disappointed if he turns to the Travels for an account of the
condition of science or of the methods employed for its promotion.
Two pages include all that he has here to say upon this subject,
but the deficiencies are fully supplied by the reminiscences
afterwards published by his biographer.
The University of Edinburgh in its intellectual activity and
in its renown then surpassed any other university in the English-
speaking world. The records of its preeminence are abundant.
For example, Russell's recent biography of Sidney Smith throws
this sidelight upon the state of society not long before the arrival
of Silliman.
The University of Edinburgh was then in its days of glory.
Dugald Stewart was Professor of Moral Philosophy; John Play-
fair, of Mathematics; John Hill, of Humanity. The teaching was
at once interesting and systematic, the intellectual atmosphere
liberal and enterprising. English parents who cared seriously for
mental and moral freeedom, such as the Duke of Somerset, the
Duke of Bedford, and Lord Lansdowne, sent their sons to Edin-
burgh instead of Oxford or Cambridge. The University was in
close relations with the Bar, then adorned by the great names of
Francis Jeffrey, Francis Horner, Henry Brougham, and Walter
Scott. While Michael Beach was duly attending the professorial
lectures, his tutor was not idle. From Dugald Stewart and
Thomas Brown, he acquired the elements of Moral Philosophy.
He gratified a lifelong fancy by attending the Clinical Lectures
given by Dr. Gregory in the hospitals of Edinburgh, and studied
Chemistry under Dr. Black. He amused himself with chemical
experiments.
"I mix'd 4 of Holland gin with 8 of olive oil, and stirr'd them
well together. I then added 4 of nitric acid. A violent ebullition
ensued. Nitrous ether, as I suppos'd, was generated, and in about
four hours the oil became perfectly concrete, white and hard as
tallow."
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 99
The renown of Joseph Black, Professor of Chemistry, who had
died in 1799, still shed its luster upon Auld Reekie. Many inter-
esting stories are told of this great teacher. " Chemistry," he said,
"is not yet a science. We are far from knowing first principles,
and we should avoid everything that has the pretensions of a full
system." Late in life, Silliman sometimes repeated the following
anecdote (which is quoted by Miss Clerke from Ferguson),
respecting the death of Professor Black:
"Being at table with his usual fare, some bread, a few prunes,
and a measured quantity of milk diluted with water, and having
the cup in his hand when the last stroke of the pulse was to be
given, he appeared to have set it down on his knees, which were
joined together, and in the action expired without spilling a drop,
as if an experiment had been purposely made to evince the fa-
cility with which he departed."
To Professor John Robison, the colleague of Black, Silliman
had brought special introductions. Perhaps at Dr. Maclean's
suggestion, Princeton had already conferred upon him an honor-
ary degree. His death occurred before the letter could be pre-
sented. It was therefore to the lectures of Professor Thomas
Charles Hope, who had been a pupil of Lavoisier, that Silliman
resorted. The art of lecturing was then developed to great per-
fection, and although Dr. Hope gave no teaching in practical
chemistry before 1823, he must have been an inspiring and bril-
liant teacher, performing experiments in the presence of his class
in the most skilful manner. His reception of the young American
is thus decribed:
"Dr. Hope was a polished gentleman, but a little stately and
formal withal. After reading the letter of introduction, he turned
to me and said, 'I perceive that I am addressing a brother Pro-
fessor.' I bowed, a little abashed; a very young man, as I still
was (at the age of 26), thus to be recognized as the peer of a re-
nowned veteran in science, the able successor, as he had been
the associate, of the distinguished Dr. Black. He proceeded,
'Now sir, from long experience, I will give you one piece of ad-
vice, that is, never to attempt to give a lecture until you are en-
tirely possessed of your subject, and never to venture on an ex-
100 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
periment of whose success you are doubtful.' I bowed respect-
fully my assent, adding at the same time that I was happy to find
that I had begun right, for I had hitherto endeavored to adopt
the very course which he had presented, and which I should en-
deavor still to follow. I thought I perceived that something in
his manner indicated that he would have been quite as well
pleased if I had not in some measure anticipated his experience.
He proved himself a model professor, and fully entitled to act as
a mentor."
In the expectation that a medical school would be established
in New Haven, Silliman attended anatomical lectures in Phila-
delphia, and he did likewise in Edinburgh. Dr. James Gregory
was then chief of the Edinburgh Medical School, the leading
consultant in medicine, and, like his colleague Hope, an admirable
lecturer. To his courses Silliman was naturally attracted. "His
lectures," says his pupil, "were very informal, although not imme-
thodical; if they were written out, he made no use of notes, but
began without exordium, and poured out the rich treasures of his
ardent mind with such crowding rapidity of diction that it was not
always easy to apprehend fully his thoughts, because we could
not distinctly hear all his words. He had many historical and per-
sonal anecdotes, some of which have remained with me during the
fifty- two years that have passed since I heard them."
Dr. John Murray, a private lecturer, not connected with the
University, gave instruction to a company of thirty-five or forty
persons in his own house, and in this less formal and more famil-
iar mode of instruction, Silliman found a valuable accessory to the
lectures of Dr. Hope. "Both united," he says, "gave a finish and
completeness that was all I could desire to enable me to resume
my course of instruction at home."
Edinburgh was then the seat of a great scientific battle. Pro-
fessor Robert Jameson had recently returned from Freiberg where
he was fully imbued with the geological tenets of Werner respect-
ing the agency of water in the phenomena of Geology. Dr.
Murray was a zealous advocate of these Wernerian theories. Dr.
Hope, on the other hand, defended what was called the philosophy
of fire, and the extended researches of Dr. Hutton. The discus-
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 101
sions of these two men afforded a rich entertainment to Silliman
and a wide range of instruction, and his allusions to this igneous
and aqueous controversy formed an interesting chapter in his sub-
sequent American lectures.
The teachers of Silliman were not the only men of mark whom
he met. He describes an interview with Dugald Stewart, then the
pride and ornament of Edinburgh. The conversation turned upon
American literature, for which the philosopher showed but little
appreciation. "When our poems were inquired for," says Silli-
man, "it was evident that the distinguished men around me had
not heard even the names of our poets, Dwight, Trumbull, Barlow,
Humphreys, and others."
Sir David Brewster, Professor Leslie, the Earl of Buchan
(Washington's correspondent), and Anderson, the editor of the
British Poets, are among others whom he met, but with them his
relations were but brief.
I have given so much space to this Edinburgh chapter, chiefly
because it shows the dawn of instruction in Chemistry, partly also
because of the famous men referred to, and partly because of the
influence exerted upon the young American professor. Looking
back, toward the end of his life, Silliman acknowledges his debt to
Edinburgh in these words: Upon its characteristics "I endeav-
ored to form my professional character, to imitate what I saw and
heard, and afterwards to introduce such improvements as I might
be able to hit upon or invent. It is obvious that, had I rested con-
tent with the Philadelphia standard, except what I learned from
my early friend, Robert Hare, the chemistry of Yale College would
have been comparatively an humble affair. In mineralogy, my
opportunities at home had been very limited. As to geology, the
science did not exist among us, except in the minds of a very few
individuals, and instruction was not attainable in any public
institution. In Edinburgh there were learned and eloquent
geologists and lecturers, and ardent and successful explorers; and
in that city the great geological conflict between the Wernerian
and Huttonian schools elicited a high order of talent and rich
resources both in theory and facts."
102 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
On his return; Silliman reached New Haven, Sunday, June i,
1806, and went at once to evening prayers in the College Chapel.
His days of tutelage were over and his career as a teacher began.
He soon made a comparison between the geological features of
New Haven and Edinburgh, and read a paper on this subject
before the Connecticut Academy. In the autumn, his lectures
began and they continued, practically without interruption, until
his final release from official duties.
During this long period, Silliman was identified with Yale Col-
lege. No one in the faculty attracted more students, no one exerted
greater influence beyond the college walls. His lectures were
anticipated by successive classes with expectations of pleasure and
profit which were never disappointed. In later years, ladies were
regularly admitted. The lecturer was always punctual, prepared,
fluent and entertaining. He was skilful in the demonstrations
which he made before the class. After giving up the subterranean
room already referred to, his instructions were given in the old
dining-room of the College, a lecture room capable of holding
more than a hundred persons, with accessory rooms for prepara-
tions. Although this was called a laboratory, its construction and
its uses were very different from those now found in well-organized
colleges. Silliman was far from being a man of routine. He
threw himself, heart and soul, into the varied interests of the Col-
lege, and, from time to time, engaged in public affairs, as the fol-
lowing narrative will show. It will be more impressive to avoid
the chronological order in the treatment of his career, and to dis-
cuss, under various headings, his manifold services.
We begin with his characteristics as a teacher of undergraduates.
During fifty years, three men, selected by President Dwight,
were closely associated in the administration of Yale College.
Jeremiah Day began as Professor of Mathematics and afterwards
succeeded to the Presidency. James L. Kingsley, first a Professor
of Ancient Languages and Ecclesiastical History, was relieved
from these multiplex appointments, one after another, retaining
until the close of his life, the professorship of Latin. Silliman
began as Professor of Chemistry and Natural History, but Nat-
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 103
ural History, if that term be regarded as including Zoology and
Botany, never entered into his field of special study. Mineralogy
and Geology were added to Chemistry for a time, and Pharmacy
was specified in the catalogues of the Medical School. These
three men, very different in their intellectual qualities, supple-
mented the instruction of each other. Silliman was the attractive
lecturer, the college orator, the man who came to the front on all
academic occasions. Kingsley was the retired scholar, learned,
accurate, ready, masterly as a critic, thorough as a teacher. Day,
a wise and judicious administrator, in addition to the duties then
commonly assigned to a college president, gave instruction in
Moral Philosophy.
Discriminating appreciations of these three men, with charac-
teristic stories, are given in the Memories of Yale Life and Men, by
the second President Dwight. He quotes from President Woolsey
the saying that Silliman, among all the men who lived in New
Haven during the century, was the most finished gentleman, not
only in external demeanor, but in his character and soul. Dwight
says that
"His language and style, his wonderful facility of expression
and clearness of statement, and the grace and force of the presen-
tation of his thought were admirably fitted to arrest and hold the
attention of his hearers at all times, as well as to impress upon their
memory the facts and truths which he brought before them."
Then he adds this amusing story, illustrating the genuine kindli-
ness of the man:
"I well remember one illustrative case, respecting which there
had been long-continued deliberation, with the differences of
views that were frequently manifest, and the minds of some of the
gentlemen were convinced that disciplinary measures were essen-
tial. The kindly professor was requested to give the first vote in
the decision. He took the College Catalogue which was lying on
the table near him, and opening it he said, 'What is the student's
name, Mr. President?' 'Jones,' the President replied. 'Ah,' said
he, after turning over the pages somewhat carefully, ' Jones of the
Junior Class?' 'Yes,' was the reply. 'I notice that he is from
Baltimore,' the professor answered; 'when I was lecturing in that
104 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
city, his father entertained me most hospitably at his house. I
think I would treat the young man as leniently as possible.' Jones
was not the young man's name, though I have allowed myself
to call him so. I do not recall what fate befel him as the result
of the vote on that afternoon. I think it not unlikely that I voted
on the unfavorable side. Very possibly, that side of the case was
the right and reasonable one to take. But it was not a matter of
infinite importance, and may well be forgotten after so long a
time. There was, however, given to us, on that day, a vision for
a moment of the kindly sentiment of a gracious gentleman, which
remains with me at this hour, and which I think may, if remem-
bered, have done more of good for all those to whom it was given,
than any mistaken vote could have done of injury to the well-
being of the academic community."
No better proof can be given of Silliman's inspiring qualities as
a teacher than to note on the catalogue of Yale graduates during
the first half of the century, the names of those who became investi-
gators and teachers. The most illustrious was James Dwight
Dana, who came to Yale attracted by the fame of Silliman. Those
who became jurists, divines, statesmen and men of affairs could al-
ways be trusted, in their various vocations, to be the friends and
promoters of science, and this too at a period when many educated
persons regarded science as antagonistic to religion, and many
more believed that attention to science would be prejudicial to
the Humanities.
As a colleague, Silliman was about as free from defects as a
man can be. He was especially distinguished by that considera-
tion for others which led him to appreciate and assist their en-
deavors, to keep free from jealousy and rivalry, and to think much
more of the general good than of personal preferment or the
attainment of gratitude or recognition. He was not merely the
occupant of a professor's chair, nor was he so absorbed by studies
and duties that he was indifferent to the doings of his colleagues
and the opportunities of his alma mater.
In the establishment of a cabinet of minerals; the acquisition of
the Trumbull gallery; the purchase of the Clark telescope; the
foundation of the Medical School; and the initiation of the Sheffield
School of Science he is especially to be remembered.
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 10$
Among the treasures of the Peabody Museum in New Haven
are the collections in mineralogy and geology, which were once in
the foremost rank and are still among the most extensive and valu-
able in this country. The contrast is very great between these
well-filled cases and drawers, enriched by many contributions, se-
cured by many able investigators, and the meager outfit provided
for Silliman. He often told the story that, when he was desig-
nated a professor, he put all the minerals belonging to the College
in a candle box and took them to Philadelphia to be named by Dr.
Adam Seybert. Some purchases were soon afterwards made,
and at length an opportunity occurred which Silliman was quick
to improve. Colonel George Gibbs, a lover of science, had re-
turned from Europe and was resident in Newport, R. I., where
he was often visited by the Yale professor. He had formed an
extensive and valuable collection of minerals, ten thousand or
more specimens, and Silliman persuaded him to place them on
public exhibition in Yale College where they remained from 1810
until 1825, attracting great attention. A subscription was then
taken up for its purchase, and the collection became the prop-
erty of the College. Many additions were subsequently secured
from Robert Bakewell, William Macclure, Alexander Brongniart
(of Paris), and G. A. Mantell.
Fisher tells this characteristic story:
"When Mr. Edward Everett came to New Haven to deliver his
discourse upon Washington, he related in a short speech to the
college students, an anecdote connected with the purchase of the
Gibbs Cabinet. Understanding that this collection was offered
for sale, Mr. Everett had suggested to several friends of Harvard
that it might be secured for that institution. 'But,' said Mr. Ev-
erett, 'they hung fire; and after the bargain was concluded by
Mr. Silliman, I observed to him that I hoped the affair would
give a useful lesson to our people against delay in such matters.'
1 You are welcome,' said Mr. Silliman with a smile, ' to any moral
benefit to be derived from the matter; we, meanwhile, will get
what good we can from the Cabinet.' '
For many years the Trumbull gallery of paintings shared with
the cabinet of minerals the interest of visitors to New Haven.
106 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Every stranger was expected to "go to prayers" in the College
Chapel, and to visit these two collections.
This is the story of the gallery. The famous painter, Colonel
John Trumbull (a son of Jonathan Trumbull, known as Washing-
ton's Brother Jonathan), and Silliman had long been friends, and
Silliman had married the artist's niece. At the age of seventy-
four years, this historical painter, to whom the country is in-
debted for priceless portraits of Washington and others of the
earliest supporters of the Republic, confided to Silliman his
impecunious circumstances, and referred to his pictures as his
chief resource. He intimated his willingness to give them to
Yale College in return for a competent annuity for the rest of his
life. Silliman, with his quick responsiveness, caught at this
remark, reported it at once in New Haven, and initiated the meas-
ures by which a gallery was constructed, the pictures placed on
the walls, and the annuity secured. Thus in 1830, the college
secured these works which are now among the invaluable pos-
sessions of the Yale School of the Fine Arts.
With similar tact, Silliman procured from Sheldon Clark, a
farmer living in a country town near New Haven, the money
requisite for purchasing a telescope, which for many years stood
first and best among the astronomical instruments of this country.
To Silliman also is credited the impulse given by the Connecticut
Academy of Arts and Sciences to the proposal of a geological
survey of the State which resulted in the reports of James G.
Percival and Charles U. Shepard.
At the beginning of the ninteeenth century, President Dwight
had in mind the enlargement of the College, "which then passed
not only in name but in spirit from the eighteenth to the nineteenth
century." Silliman knew of this purpose, as we have seen, and
was governed by it during his courses of study in Philadelphia
and Edinburgh. Many years before, Dr. Stiles had drafted the
plan of a university, particularly describing law and medical
lectures. It is needless to repeat here the annals which have
lately been skilfully reproduced by Dr. W. H. Welch. l Finally
1 See his historical address at New Haven, in 1901.
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 107
in 1810, largely through the efforts of Dwight and Silliman, the
medical institution of Yale College was created by the General
Assembly. Silliman was regarded as already a professor in this
institution. Four capital men constituted the first faculty, med-
ical teachers, says Dr. Welch, who could challenge comparison
with any similar group in this country. One of them, Dr. Nathan
Smith, shed undying glory upon the school. He was far ahead
of his time, and his reputation had steadily increased as the medical
profession has slowly caught up with him.
Silliman's part in organizing the Sheffield School is less obvious,
but at the critical moment, it was of great significance. He was
an old man, asking to be released from active duties, but he served
as a member of the important committee which, in 1846, recom-
mended the establishment of a department of Philosophy and the
Arts in Yale College. Out of this movement soon came the Scien-
tific School, whose early days he watched and favored with more
than paternal interest. A memorial, chiefly prepared by Silli-
man, embodying the outline of a School of Science was presented
in 1846 to the College Corporation, and he personally appeared
before that august body to urge upon them the necessity of meet-
ing the growing demands of the public in this direction.
During most of his career, Silliman was accustomed to receive
in his laboratory assistants and pupils, not a few of whom rose
to eminence. I am not aware that any complete list of these aspir-
ants is in existence, but in their teacher's reminiscences, references
are made to some of the more distinguished. For nine years he
had in his service a bright boy named Foot, who came to him a lad
of twelve years old, and who ultimately rose to distinction as a
surgeon in the U. S. Army. Then for years he had only hired
men, house servants, "some of them clumsy, heavy-handed
men, from whom the glass vessels suffered not a little." After
1821, genuine scholars were enlisted, among them these whose
names I bring together as an indication of the desire, in the early
part of the last century, for special advanced instruction, so much
in vogue in these later times. l The story of Silliman's laboratory
1 These were among those who acted as his assistants or worked in his
io8 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
will, one of these days, make a good prelude to the history of uni-
versity education in this country as distinguished from collegiate.
The term " University Extension" did not come into vogue
until long after the career of Silliman was ended, but many
years previous, in the full maturity of his powers, he gave to
public audiences long courses of lectures closely akin to those
which he was accustomed to give in college. His dignified and
courteous manners, fluent delivery, and well-chosen illustrations
sustained the reputation which had he acquired as the father of
American science. When his theme was chemistry, he per-
formed experiments in the presence of his auditors which always
interested and not seldom surprised them. When geology was
his subject, the lecture room was hung with colored pictures of
the flora and fauna of paleontological periods, with fiery por-
trayals of volcanic fires, or with quieter but not less impressive
views of the glaciers in Switzerland and the basaltic columns of
Staff a. He never "posed" as a man of superior or mysterious
learning, but he always spoke as an educated gentleman, eager
to interest and instruct his hearers. Perhaps the most brilliant
of these courses were those in which he inaugurated the lecture
system of the Lowell Institute in Boston. In the winter of
1839-40 he gave twenty-four lectures upon geology which were
so popular that every lecture was repeated. He had a similar
experience in the following winter, when his course in chemistry,
including twenty-four lectures, was given to a second audience.
In the next two winters, (1841-42 and 1842-43) he delivered two
courses on chemistry, and they also were repeated. Professor
J. P. Cooke, who followed Silliman many years later, declared
that he was led, as a boy, by these lectures to devote himself to
science. Hundreds of able lecturers have appeared on this fa-
laboratory: Sherlock J. Andrews, William P. Blake, George T. Bowen, Wil-
liam H. Brewer, George J. Brush, James D. Dana, Chester Dewey, Sereno E.
Dwight, Amos Eaton, William C. Fowler, Robert Hare, Edward Hitchcock,
Oliver P. Hubbard, T. Sterry Hunt, Edward H. Leffingwell, John P. Norton,
Denison Olmsted, Charles H. Porter, Charles H. Rockwell, Charles U.
Shepard, Benjamin Silliman, Jr., Benjamin D. Silliman, Mason C. Weld.
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 109
mous platform, but only one has spoken so often, Professor
Louis Agassiz, and he alone equalled Silliman in the presenta-
tion of a scientific theme to a public audience.
It appears that he began his career as a public lecturer as early
as 1831, when James Brewster of New Haven, a manufacturer
of carriages, persuaded Silliman and his colleague Olmsted to
give courses of lectures to mechanics and others who could not
attend instruction in the day. It is said that this was the first
time in our country when college professors went out to lecture to
the people upon natural and mechanical science. In following
years, we hear of this popular exponent of science in Hartford,
Boston, Lowell, New York and Baltimore. Still later, he went
to Mobile, New Orleans and Natchez. In 1852 he lectured
before the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, and in 1855,
when he was seventy-five years old, he acceded to a repeated
request and lectured in St. Louis.
Silliman regarded the Lowell lectures as the crowning success
of his professional life and this was doubtless true of his appear-
ance in public. His real distinction, however, did not rest on
these transient victories, but on his career at home as a pro-
fessor in Yale College and on his long service in maintaining the
American Journal of Science.
In these days when scientific periodicals are numerous, and
when every branch of investigation has its special journal, it
requires some effort of the imagination to appreciate the state
of things in the early part of the last century. Three learned
societies, the American Academy in Boston, the American
Philosophical Society in Philadelphia, and the Connecticut Acad-
emy in New Haven, were engaged in the publication of memoirs.
The American Journal of Mineralogy, edited by Dr. Archibald
Bruce in 1810, died in early childhood at the age of one year.
As Silliman was traversing Long Island Sound one day, in 1817,
he met Colonel George Gibbs who urged upon him the estab-
ishment of a new journal of science, "that we might not only
secure," he says, " the advantages already gained, but make
advances of still more importance." After much consideration
no LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
and mature advice, Silliman determined to make the attempt.
Out of deference to Dr. Bruce, then in declining health, he asked
his opinion of the project, which was given at once in favor of
the effort, and moreover in approbation of the plan, which
included the entire circle of the physical sciences and their
applications.
At the Yale Bicentennial Celebration in 1901 there were re-
peated allusions to the value of this publication, and the words
of one of the speakers on that occasion were these:
"Benjamin Silliman showed great sagacity when he perceived,
in 1818, the importance of publication, and established, of his
own motion, on a plan that is still maintained, a repository of
scientific papers, which through its long history has been recog-
nized both in Europe and in the United States, as comprehensive
and accurate; a just and sympathetic recorder of original work;
a fair critic of domestic and foreign researches; and a constant
promoter of experiment and observation. It is an unique history.
For more than eighty years this journal has been edited and pub-
lished by members of a single family, three generations of them,
with unrequited sacrifices, unquestioned authority, unparalleled
success. In the profit and loss account, it appears that the col-
lege has never contributed to the financial support, but it has
itself gained reputation from the fact that throughout the world
of science, Silliman and Dana, successive editors, from volume i
to volume 162, have been known as members of the Faculty of
Yale. I am sure that no periodical, I am not sure that any acad-
emy or university in the land, has had as strong an influence upon
science as the American Journal of Science and Arts."
Professor Joseph Henry has left on record an extended appreci-
ation of the American Journal. Its establishment and mainte-
nance, he says,
"Under restricted pecuniary means, was an enterprise which
involved an amount of thought and of labor for the expenditure
of which the editor has well merited the gratitude not only of his
own countrymen, but of the world. It has served not only to
awaken a taste for science in this country by keeping its readers
continually informed of the discoveries in science wherever it is
cultivated; but above all, it has called into the field of original ob-
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN ill
servation and research a corps of efficient laborers, and has fur-
nished a ready means of presenting the results of their labors to
the world, through a medium well suited to insure attention and
to secure proper acknowledgment for originality and priority.
Nor are the results which have been thus evoked few or unim-
portant, since many of them relate to the objects and phenomena
of a vast continent almost entirely unexplored, in which Nature
has exhibited some of her operations on a scale of grandeur well
calculated to correct the immature deductions from too limited a
survey of similar appearances in the Old World. For conducting
such a journal, Professor Silliman was admirably well qualified.
He occupied a conspicuous position in one of the oldest and most
respectable institutions of learning in this country; he was inti-
mately acquainted with the literature of science; was a fluent,
clear, and impressive writer, an accurate critic, and above all, a
sage and impartial judge."
For an estimate of the scientific work of this remarkable man,
I have the pleasure of adding an appreciation by Professor A.
W. Dwight, P. D., at one time Professor of Molecular Physics
and Chemistry, and afterwards of Experimental Physics in
Yale University. His official and personal relation to Silliman
qualified him in an exceptional manner for this labor of love.
"While it is doubtless true that Professor Silliman's reputation
and influence were more largely due to his remarkable skill as a
teacher, and to his brilliant courses of public lectures upon science,
the fact should not be overlooked that he showed great activity
as an investigator also. One of his earliest scientific publications
was an account of the famous meteorite which fell in Weston,
Conn., Dec. 14, 1807. In addition to the earlier reports of the
fall published by him, which aroused great interest, and were
widely copied, he made a chemical analysis of the meteorite, an
account of which was communicated to the American Philosophi-
cal Society, of Philadelphia, and published in its Transactions.
It was subsequently republished in the Memoirs of the Connecti-
cut Academy of Arts and Sciences, and was finally reprinted in
the American Journal of Science. This account, which at once
attracted attention in scientific circles, was deemed of such in-
terest and importance that it was not only republished in various
scientific journals, but was read aloud in the Philosophical So-
ciety of London, and also in the French Academy.
H2 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
"Very early after entering upon his professorship he made
many experiments with the blowpipe which had been invented,
not long before, by his friend Professor Hare. This apparatus
he greatly improved by an arrangement for storing the two gases
in separate recipients, and leading them to the burner by separate
tubes, so that they were united only at the tip, thus securing for
the first time entire safety from explosions. To him is also due
the name compound blowpipe by which the instrument was gen-
erally known. He continued the work of Hare upon the fusibility
of various materials, and added to the list many substances which
had hitherto been considered infusible.
"For the more adequate illustration of the principles of elec-
tricity he had caused to be constructed a powerful battery of many
cells, then often called a deflagrator, by means of which he was
enabled to exhibit the phenomena of the voltaic arc with unusual
splendor and completeness. It was in the course of experiments
with this apparatus that he observed the fusion and volatilization
of carbon in the arc, and the transference of the carbon by the
current,, from the positive pole, where it left a crater-like cavity,
to the negative pole, where it built up a kind of stalagmitic ac-
cretion, considerably increasing the length of the pole. This re-
sult aroused great interest, and, though questioned by some, was
fully confirmed by Despretz and others who had repeated his ex-
periments. When the work of Gay-Lussac in obtaining potas-
sium from its hydrate was made known he successfully repeated
the experiment, and was doubtless the first person in the United
States to obtain the element in the metallic form.
''These researches had met wide recognition and were esteemed
as of great interest and permanent value. But though the most
important, they constituted but a small proportion of his contribu-
tions to science. Numerous articles upon scientific questions
were published by him in the American Journal of Science and
elsewhere. Of these the Catalogue of Scientific Memoirs, pub-
lished by the Royal Society of London, enumerates by title
more than sixty, and several more which were published by
him in collaboration with others. Many of these contributions
were republished abroad, some of them in several different jour-
nals.
"Among other professional labors, less strictly in the way of
scientific research, but still of value as original investigations, may
be mentioned a laborious exploration of the gold mines of Vir-
ginia, a study of the coal formations of Pennsylvania, and a
scientific examination of the culture and manufacture of sugar.
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 113
The latter was undertaken by appointment of the United States
Government, and his results were embodied in a voluminous re-
port which was published by the Government.
" These labors exhibit Professor Silliman as possessing the
genuine instinct of discovery, the quick recognition of new and
interesting facts, and enthusiasm in following them up to novel
and important results. That his successes in other directions
somewhat overshadowed them does not detract from their per-
manent value, and it cannot be doubted that, but for the absorp-
tion of his energies in his devotion to the duties of a laborious and
responsible position, they would have had a much greater develop-
ment."
These sketches of the services of Silliman which entitle him
to the grateful remembrance of his countrymen, will now be sup-
plemented by some further data in respect to his life.
In the autumn of 1819, in company with Mr. Daniel Wads-
worth of Hartford, he made a journey to Quebec, and his narra-
tive of previous travels in Europe having been most favorably
received by the public, Silliman was naturally led to publish a
similar account of his American experiences. This volume is
entitled to a memorable place in Americana. It is full of
allusions to the physical aspect of the country which was traveled,
from Hartford to Albany, through Lake Champlain to Montreal,
from Montreal to Quebec, and afterwards down the Connecticut
River to Hartford. Historical incidents are constantly intro-
duced, and comments upon the people whom he met. The pen-
cil drawings of Mr. Wadsworth were reproduced for the illustra-
tion of the book by an engraver, "a young man of twenty, almost
entirely self-taught, whose talents were deserving of encourage-
ment and who had been highly spoken of by the first historical
painter in this country." The concluding remark of the author
may excite a smile:
" I have said very little of the public houses and accommoda-
tions, on the journey. Should this be thought a deficiency, it is
easily supplied; for, we found them, almost without exception, so
comfortable, quiet, and agreeable, that we had neither occasion,
nor inclination to find fault. Great civility, and a disposition to
H4 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
please their guests, were generally conspicuous at the inns; almost
everywhere, when we wished it, we found a private parlour and
a separate table, and rarely, did we hear any profane or course
language, or observe any rude and boisterous deportment."
During the second visit to Europe, just alluded to, Silliman
had the opportunity of meeting face to face many of the men with
whom, as editor of the American Journal oj Science, he had cor-
responded, and he was everywhere received with the considera-
tion which was his due. His enthusiasm in looking for the first
time upon Vesuvius and JEtna,, and upon the glaciers of Switzer-
land is charmingly recorded. It is hardly surpassed by the
gratification which he had in the society of Sir Charles Lyell and
Dr. Mantell in London, and in seeing Milne Edwards, Arago,
Brongniart and Cordier in Paris, and in meeting Humboldt,
Ritter, the Roses and other savants in Berlin.
This man of science was an intense patriot. Born in the time
of the Revolution, the son of a successful leader in the colonial
forces, his earliest days made him familiar with the principles,
the methods and the men who established our national govern-
ment. He married into the Trumbull family preeminent not
only in Connecticut, but throughout the colonies, for devotion
to the cause of liberty, and many important papers came into
his possession. He was closely associated during many years
with Colonel Trumbull, the aide-de-camp of Washington. When
New Haven was in danger of attack in the War of 1812, he was
one of those who handled a spade in the construction of batteries
upon the harbor side of the New Haven bar. From his earliest
manhood he was keenly alive to the evils of slavery, although
he did not on that account turn away from friendships with men
in the South. As the crisis of the Civil War drew near, he was
outspoken for the restriction of slavery, and his support of the
Kansas defenders of freedom exposed him to much obloquy.
During the war he was an earnest promoter of the Union,
fearless and unfaltering. One incident during the Kansas ex-
citement brought him great reproach from sympathizers with
the South, but he was undisturbed by the contumely cast
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN 115
upon him. The story is thus briefly told by Mr. Henry T.
Blake:
"In March, 1856, occurred the famous Kansas Rifle meeting
in the North Church. It was begun as a semi-religious service
held on a week-day evening to bid farewell to a band of citizens
who were about going to Kansas as settlers in the interest of free-
dom. Henry Ward Beecher addressed them, and there was not
a thought of presenting them with arms, until it was sponta-
neously suggested by that noble embodiment of every personal and
civic virtue, Prof. Silliman senior. The rifles never did much
damage directly to the Border Ruffians, but the fame of the event
spread throughout the country. The hint was taken, and the ex-
ample followed by every emigrant aid society which sent out its
party thereafter, with the result that Kansas was saved, and formed
an outpost of the utmost importance in the war for the Union."
The domestic life of Silliman was exceptionally happy. He
married in 1809 Harriet Trumbull, daughter of the second Gov-
ernor Trumbull of Connecticut, and their house was the home of
simple and refined hospitality where neighbors, students and kin-
dred, as well as strangers of distinction from every part of this
country and from Europe, were sure of a welcome. For more
than fifty years he dwelt on Hillhouse Avenue, having, for a long
period, his son Benjamin as his next door neighbor on the one
side, and on the other, his son-in-law James D. Dana. 1 After the
death of Mrs. Silliman in 1850, he made a second visit to Europe
in company with his son Professor Benjamin Silliman, Jr., and not
long after his return, he married Mrs. Sarah McClellan Webb,
(a relation of his first wife), of Woodstock, Conn., who survived
him.
When he reached the age of seventy years, Silliman tendered
his resignation. Similar action was previously taken by President
Day and subsequently by Kingsley, Woolsey and the younger
1 The daughters of Professor Silliman were married to John B. Church,
Oliver P. Hubbard, James D. Dana and Edward W. Oilman. His son Ben-
jamin was a professor in Yale College from 1846 until hte death in 1885.
Edward S. Dana, now editor of the American Journal of Science, is a grand-
son of the founder.
Ii6 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Dwight, so that the Psalmist's limit had almost become the usage
of Yale College; although to this rule, there have been and there
ought to be exceptions. In Silliman's case, the authorities re-
quested him to recede from his purpose and he did so for a brief
period. His end came in New Haven, November 24, 1864, in his
eighty-sixth year, while his mental faculties were not impaired and
his bodily strength scarcely abated.
He was the recipient of many scientific and academic honors,
though it was not customary to bestow them as freely in his days
as it is in these times, and their enumeration seems trivial compared
with the record of his work and the recognition bestowed upon
him by distinguished men. Of more value than diplomas are the
letters he received from his compeers at home flpd abroad.
It is generally admitted that no one has ever been connected
with Yale College entitled to greater affection and admiration
than that bestowed on the one of its faculty who lived to be called
the Nestor of American Science. Among the innumerable trib-
utes to his memory, I will select these words of a man of rare
ability and discrimination, Professor Jeffries Wyman, the com-
parative anatomist, of Harvard University.
/* "For Professor Silliman's life and character I have a feeling of
deep reverence. This is greater than that towards any other per-
son with whom I have come in contact in the relation of a teacher.
I prize highly, very highly, what he taught me in science, and the
direction he gave to my studies, all unconsciously to himself; but
I have no words to express my admiration of the moral dignity of
his character and its beneficent influence. After the lapse of a
quarter of a century, I find myself often recurring to the teach-
ings and example set before us during the seasons he passed in
Boston. His cordial greeting; his dignified, yet often joyous man-
ner; his freedom from bigotry; his earnestness and devotion to the
pursuits of knowledge; his readiness to impart his stores of learn-
ing; his kindness of heart, and, above all, his great Christian ex-
cellence, his peaceful and finished life, have made him to me a
model man."
s
Professor Fisher prefixed to his memoirs some lines of Cowper
which were copied again by Dr. Dwight, and with a third repeti-
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN
117
tion of these appropriate words, I conclude my tribute to one of
the best of men.
"Peace to the memory of a man of worth,
A man of letters, and of manners too!
Of manners sweet as virtue always wears
When gay good-nature dresses her in smiles.
He graced a college, in which order yet
Was sacred; and was honor'd, loved, and wept,
By more than one conspicuous there."
O^^^i^ri^L^
iM*~
^
JOSEPH HENRY
PHYSICIST
1797-1878
BY SIMON NEWCOMB
THE visitor to the great rotunda of the Congressional Library
at Washington will see among the ^tatues which surround it and
illustrative of the history of thought one bearing the very simple
name of HENRY. The object of the present chapter is to present
a brief sketch of the man whose memory is thus honored.
Joseph Henry was the first American after Franklin to reach
high eminence as an origin ajMiny estimator in pJiYsicaLscifinc^^ He
was born in Albany, December 17, 1797. It should be remarked
that there is some doubt whether the year was not 1799. But the
writer has reason to believe the earlier date to be the correct one.
Little more is known of his ancestors than that his grandparents
were Scotch-Irish, and landed in this country about the beginning
of the Revolutionary War. Nothing was known of his father
which would explain his having had such a son. His mother was
a woman of great refinement, intelligence and strength of charac-
ter, but of a delicate physical constitution. T.ikf th<> mnthprg p
many nthpr or^t men, ch** w Qg flf f ^ pf T)]y devotional chfirfictfiF-
Sfie~was a Presbyterian of the old-fashioned Scottish stamp and
exacted from her children the strictest performance of religious
duty.
The educational advantages of young Joseph were no other
than those commonly enjoyed by youth born in -the same walk of
life. At the age of seven years he left his paternal home and went
to live with his grandmother at Galway, where he attended the
district school for three years. At the age of ten he was placed in
119
120 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
a store kept by a Mr. Broderick, and spent part of the day in
business duties and part at school. This position he kept until
the age of fifteen. During these early years his intellectual qual-
ities were fully displayed, but in a direction totally different from
that which they ultimately took. He was slender in person, not
/V vigorous in health, with almost the delicate complexion and fea-
tures of a girl. His favorite reading was not that of his school-
books, nor did it indicate the future field of his activities. His
great delight was books of romance. The lounging place of the
'young villagers of an evening was around the stove in Mr. Brod-
erick's store. Here young Henry, although the slenderest of the
group, was the central figure, retailing to those around him the
stories which he had read, or which his imagination had suggested.
He was of a highly imaginative turn of mind, and seemed to live
t in the ideal world of fairies.
At the age of fifteen he returned to Albany, and, urged by his
imaginative taste, joined a private dramatic company, of which he
soon became the leading spirit. There was every prospect of his
devoting himself to the stage when, at the age of sixteen, accident
turned his mental activities into an entirely different direction.
^Being detained indoors by a slight indisposition, a friend loaned
him a copy of Dr. Gregory's lectures on Experimental Philos-
ophy r Asfronop^ji^ ^hp^isfry. htelbecame intensely interested
in the field of thought which this work opened to him. Here in
the domain of nature were subjects of investigation more worthy
of attention than anything in the ideal world in which his imagi-
nation had hitherto roamed. He felt that there was an imagina-
tion of the intellectual faculties as well as of the emotions and that
the search after truth was even more attractive than the erection
of fairy palaces. He determined to make the knowledge of the
newly opened domain the great object of his life, without attempt-
ing to confine himself to any narrow sphere. Mr. Boyd, noticing
his great interest in the book, presented it to him; and it formed
one of his cherished possessions as long as he lived. His appre-
ciation of it was expressed in the following memorandum written
upon the inside of the cover:
JOSEPH HENRY
121
"This book although by no means a profound work, has under
Providence exerted a remarkable influence on my life. It acci-
dentally fell into my hands when I was about sixteen years old,
and was the first book I ever read with attention. It opened to
me a new world of thought and enjoyment; invested things be-
fore almost unnoticed, with the highest interest; fixed my mind
on the study of nature; and caused me to resolve at the time of
reading it, that I would immediately commence to devote my
life to the acquisition of knowledge.
" J. H."
His mother's means were, however, too limited to permit of his
constant attendance at a school. He began by taking evening
lessons from two of the professors in the Albany Academy, his
main subjects of study being geometry and mechanics. For a
period he was teacher in a country school. He thus gained a small
sum which enabled him to enter as a regular student at the Albany
Academy where, however, his studies had again to be interrupted.
After another brief absence he returned to his school, where he
finished his studies when about eighteen years of age. His record
was now so good that Dr. Romeyn Beck, the principal of the
Academy, recommended him to the position of private tutor in the
family of General Stephen Van Rensselaer, the patron, who was
also officer of the first board of trustees of the Academy. He
found this situation to be a very pleasant one, and was treated
with great consideration by the family of Mr. Van Rensselaer.
His duties required only his morning hours so that he could devote
his entire afternoons to mathematical and physical studies. In
the former he went so far as to read the Mecanique Analytique of
La Grange. YrV*-" JU-fc^ ?
Thejnyestigator never works at |fig fr>*t withmit th* aid anH
encouragement of ]\\<\ ffMrmr.^ TM C indispensable require-
ment was afforded to the young scientist by the organization of the
Albany Institute in 1824, of which the patron was the first Presi-
dent. Henry at once became an active member of this society.
His first paper was read October 30, 1824, on the Chemical and
Mechanical Effects of Steam. In this paper he gave the results
of very ingenious experiments on the temperature of steam escap-
122 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
ing from a boiler as measured by a thermometer under various
circumstances.
Placing the thermometer in steam-jet at a distance of four
4 inches from the outlet, and then applying more and more heat to
the water in the boiler, he found that the steam, instead of being
hotter, actually grew cooler the hotter the fire was made. At
the highest pressure the steam at a little greater distance would
not scald the hand at all although it would scald it when the
pressure was lower. The explanation was that the great expan-
sion caused by the increased temperature of the steam when it
first escaped produced a stronger cooling effect, which more
than made up for the higher temperature. Carrying out the
same idea of the production of cold by the rarefaction of air,
N^ he published the principles by which to-day ice is manufactured
by the condensation and rarefaction of air. Half a pint of water
was poured into a strong copper vessel of a globular form, and
having a capacity of five gallons; a tube of one-fourth of an inch
caliber, with a number of holes near the lower end, and a stop-
cock attached to the other extremity, was firmly screwed into the
neck of the vessel; the lower end dipped into the water, but a
number of holes were above the surface of the liquid, so that a
jet of air mingled with the water might be thrown from the foun-
tain. The apparatus was then charged with condensed air, by
means of a powerful condensing-pump, until the pressure was
estimated at nine atmospheres. During the condensation the
vessel became sensibly warm. After suffering the apparatus to
cool down to the temperature of the room, the stop-cock was
opened: the air rushed out with great violence, carrying with it a
quantity of water, which was instantly converted into snow.
After a few seconds, the tube became filled with ice, which almost
entirely stopped the current of air. The neck of the vessel was
then partially unscrewed, so as to allow the condensed air to
rush out around the sides of the screw: in this state the tempera-
ture of the whole interior atmosphere was so much reduced as to
freeze the remaining water in the vessel.
His delicate constitution now suffered so much from confine-
JOSEPH HENRY 123
ment and study that he accepted an invitation to go on a survey-
ing expedition to the western part of the state. As a result of
this expedition he published a topographical sketch of New
York which appeared in the Transactions of the Albany In-
stitute. It comprised a sketch of the physical geography of the
state with especial reference to the newly inaugurated canal
system. fL**^^s*JUt- O> f***^*Mj/ y
In this wnrfc Jia rgn^^itjoT^w^ rgmpfc f f ?y JfiStTgSiL anc * ne
returned home with a health and vigor which never failed him
during the remainder of his long and arduous life. Soon after
his return he was elected Professor of Mathematics in the Albany
Academy. Here a new field was opened to him. It is one of
the most curious features in the intellectual history of our country
that, after producing such a man as Franklin, it found no succes-
sor to him in the field of science for half a century after his
scientific work was done. There had been without doubt plenty
of professors of eminent attainments who amused themselves
and instructed their pupils and the public by physical experi-
ments. But in the department of electricity, that in which
Franklin took so prominent a position, it may be doubted
whether they enunciated a single generalization which will enter
into the history of the sciences. This interregnum closes with
the researches now commenced by Professor Henry^
That these researches received the attention that they did and
led to the author holding so high a place in the estimation of his
fellow-men must be regarded as very creditable to the people of
Albany at that time, at a period of our history when the question
of supposed usefulness was apt to dominate all others. It was
then seventy years since Franklin had drawn electricity from the
clouds, and fifty years since Volta and Galvani had shown how an
electric current could be produced by dropping metals into acid;
and what effect such a current had on the legs of a frog. And
yet, during these two generations, no one had any idea that these
discoveries could ever be put to any practical use, except so far
as the destructive agency of lightning could be annihilated by
steel-pointed conductors. Under such conditions Henry might
124 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
well have seemed to his fellows as a man who, though possessing
great talents was ready to waste his time in investigating matters
of no human interest. But instead of taking this view he received
such encouragement and support that he was enabled to continue
investigations into the laws of electricity, and to make new dis-
coveries which have since proved to be of great practical impor-
tance in the application of that agent. To give a clear idea of a
few of these investigations we must recall some of the laws of
electricity.
Before Henry's time it was known that, when a wire was
wrapped around a piece of iron, and an electric current passed
through the wire, the iron instantly became a magnet, attract-
ing every piece of iron in its neighborhood. If the iron was
well annealed and soft, it lost its magnetism, and its attraction
ceased the moment the current was interrupted. Every one
who has seen the Morse telegraph at work knows it is by this
property of the electric current that messages are transmitted.
Henry's first experiments were devoted to showing how the
power of a single battery to produce this effect could be enor-
mously increased by passing more and more coils around the
magnet. Carrying forward his experiments he made enormous
magnets which held up weights greater than anyone had before
supposed a magnet could ever do. With a battery having a
single plate of zinc, of half a square foot of surface, he made a
magnet lift a weight of 750 pounds, more than thirty-five
times its own weight. In connection with this experiment he
showed the difference between the quantity of electricity and
its projectile force, a distinction at the base of all modern appli-
ances of electricity.
At Albany in 1831-32 Henry showed for the first time how
easily an electric telegraph could be constructed. He ran the
wires of an electric circuit several miles in length around one of
the upper rooms in the Albany Academy. An electric current
was sent around this circuit from a small battery passing in its
course through the coils of an electromagnet. A permanent
magnet was swung between the poles of this electromagnet in
JOSEPH HENRY 125
such a way that, when the current was sent through the circuit,
a bell was rung. In this way he demonstrated that it was pos-
sible to send signals to a distance of many miles by means of
an electric current. Acting on his avowed principle that when
the scientific investigator had shown a practical result to be pos-
sible, there would be plenty of inventors to put the discovery to
practical uses, he himself never attempted to do more than to
show how the telegraph could be put into operation. It was three
years after this, in 1835, when Professor Morse continued these
experiments with the view of devising a practical telegraph.
Three years later he had perfected his alphabet of dots and
dashes but did not succeed in securing the necessary public
support for the telegraph until 1842. Professor Henry's gener-
osity and public spirit is strikingly shown in a letter which he
addressed to Professor Morse at this time. The following are
the most important passages:
DEAR SIR:
"I am pleased to learn that you have again petitioned Congress
in reference to your telegraph ; and I most sincerely hope you will
succeed in convincing our representatives of the importance of
the invention. . . . Science is now fully ripe for this application,
and I have not the least doubt, if proper means be afforded, of the
perfect success of the invention. The idea of transmitting in-
telligence to a distance by means of the electrical action has been
suggested by various persons, from the time of Franklin to the
present but until within the last few years, or since the principal
discoveries in electro-magnetism, all attempts to reduce it to prac-
tice were necessarily unsuccessful. The mere suggestion however
of a scheme of this kind, is a matter for which little credit can be
claimed, since it is one which would naturally arise in the mind of
almost any person familiar with the phenomena of electricity:
but the bringing it forward at the proper moment when the de-
velopments of science are able to furnish the means of certain
success, and the devising a plan for carrying it into practical op-
eration, are the grounds of a just claim to scientific reputation as
well as to public patronage. About the same time with yourself,
Professor Wheatstone of London, and Dr. Steinheil of Germany,
proposed plans of the electro-magnetic telegraph; but these differ
as much from yours as the nature of the common principle would
126 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
well permit; and unless some essential improvements have lately
been made in these European plans, I should prefer the one in-
vented by yourself.
"With my best wishes for your success, I remain with much
esteem,
"Yours truly,
"JOSEPH HENRY."
It was two years after the date of this letter in May, 1844, that
the first telegraphic message was transmitted from Washington
to Baltimore.
In 1831 he made what was probably the first observation of a
magnetic storm in this country. This term is applied to very
small changes in the direction in which a magnet points, and
in the force which the earth produces upon it, that occur from
time to time. These disturbances of the magnetic needle are
called "storms" because they behave much like a storm of
wind in moving the magnet about. On the same evening in
which the storm was first noticed a brilliant aurora commenced.
It has since been found that unusual displays of the aurora are
nearly always accompanied by magnetic storms.
The next discovery of Henry was one in which, although it
was quite original, he was anticipated in publication by Faraday.
This was the production of magneto electricity. When it was
known that electricity could make iron into a magnet in the way
I have described, the idea naturally occurred that, conversely,
magnets might also produce electricity. Efforts to produce elec-
tricity in this way were unavailing until Henry showed that the
mere presence of a magnet was not sufficient, but that the magnet
must move. Henry's discovery may be explained in the follow-
ing way. Let us suppose a long piece of wire wound round and
round in a coil, like a coil of rope, but without anything inside of
it. Then bring the two ends of the wire into contact. Of
course this alone would be nothing but a commonplace coil of
wire. Now take a powerful magnet and insert it inside the
coil. While you are doing this an electric current will pass
through the coil, but the moment you get the magnet inside and
JOSEPH HENRY 127
stop the motion, the current stops also. Now take the mag-
net out and the current again flows, but in the opposite direc-
tion.
Here we have the principles on which the modern dynamo is
constructed, by which electric roads are now run. Unfortunately
there were very few scientific societies and scientific men in this
country; and Henry himself had no idea what an epoch-making
discovery this was; so he did not publish it immediately, but
went on trying to perfect it before describing it in print. While
he was doing this he found that Faraday had made the same
discovery in England, and published it to the admiring scientific
world. It was a remarkable illustration of Henry's high charac-
ter that he never complained of not receiving the credit of having
been another discoverer, but subsequently spoke of "Faraday's
admirable discovery" as if it was something with which he had
nothing to do. C*~V$WA^ tiu flAM^tr
Another discovery which Henry was the first to publish, and
for which he has entire credit, is that which is known as the self-
induction of an electric current. Under certain circumstances
when a long current is suddenly broken there is a momentary
flash in the opposite direction, and the longer the wire through
which the current is passing the stronger is this flash. This is the
cause of the bright flashes that are so often seen at night on the
trolley of an electric car as it is running along the wire. The
trolley makes a slight jump; the current is thus broken, and the
self -induced current jumps across the space with the brilliant flash
which we all must have so often noticed.
Another of Henry's discoveries and one of a very curious char-
acter was that, when a flash of electricity suddenly passes through
a wire when a Leyden jar is discharged, for example what takes
place is not a single passage of electricity, but a vibrating of elec-
tricity back and forth through the wire. These vibrations are so
rapid that they all take place in a much smaller time than the
human faculties could ever appreciate, perhaps the ten thousandth
or one hundred thousandth of a second, perhaps I ought to say the
fraction of a millionth of a second. The question may arise how
128 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
is it possible to determine invisible motions back and forth in a
millionth of a second.
Henry's method was very simple. He passed the electric dis-
charge through a wire round a needle. This object being of
highly tempered steel retained the magnetism communicated to it
by the current. Henry found that, when the needle was examined
after the current had flashed around it, its north and south poles
were not always at the ends which should have been produced
by the discharge, but were often in the opposite direction, the north
pole being the one that should have been south. He immediately
saw what was the cause. The electricity must have flashed first in
one direction and then in the opposite one. In perhaps the mil-
lionth of a second it not only destroyed the magnetism which had
first been produced by the current but induced a magnetism of
the opposite kind.
Henry's active and fertile mind was by no means confined to
electricity. Everything he could find in the heavens or on the
earth to investigate, he was ready to actively take hold of. He
delighted in experimenting on the properties of matter, and left
behind voluminous notes of his results in this field.
p
About 1832 Professor Henry was called to the chair of Natural
Philosophy in Princeton College. Although the duties of an Amer-
ican college professor seldom allow much time for original investi-
gation, he soon resumed his electrical researches, and the first of a
regular series was communicated to the American Philosophical
Society in 1835. On February 6 of that year he continued the
subject of the self-induction of the electric current with especial
reference to the influence of a spiral conductor upon it. The
series of experiments on this subject are very elaborate, but can-
not be fully described without going into details too minute for
the present sketch.
Among the little known works of Professor Henry during this
period are his researches upon solar radiation and the heat of the
solar spots. In connection with his relative, Professor Stephen
Alexander, he may be said to have commenced a branch of modern
solar physics which has since grown to large proportions, by com-
JOSEPH HENRY 129
paring the temperature of the solar spots with that of other parts
of the sun's disk. The first experiments were made on January 4,
1845. A verv * ar g e s P ot was tnen visible upon the sun, the image
of which was thrown by a four-inch telescope upon a screen in a
dark room. A thermopile was placed in such a position that the
image of the spot and of the neighboring parts of the solar disk
could be thrown upon it in quick succession. The result of obser-
vations extending through several days was that decidedly less
heat was received from the spot than from the brilliant part of the
photosphere. It is believed that it was these experiments which
started Secchi on the brilliant investigations in solar physics which
he carried on in subsequent years.
In one of his numerous communications presented to the Philo-
sophical Society he appears as one of the inventors of the electro-
chronograph. On May 30, 1843, he presented and read a com-
munication on a new method of determining the velocity of
projectiles. It was in its essential parts identical with that now
generally adopted. It consisted, he says, in applying the instan-
taneous transmission of the electrical action to determine the time
of the passage of the ball between two screens placed at a short dis-
tance from each other on its path. For this purpose the observer
is provided with a revolving cylinder, moved by clockwork at the
rate of at least ten turns in a second, and of which the convex sur-
face is divided into a hundred equal parts, each part therefore
indicating in the revolution the thousandth part of a second or less.
Close to the surface of this cylinder, which revolves horizontally,
are placed two galvanometers, one at each extremity of a diame-
ter; the needles of these being furnished at one end with a pen for
making a dot with printers' ink on the revolving surface. In the
appendix to the paper he proposes to dispense with the galvan-
ometer and produce the marks by direct electromagnetic action,
as is now done in the familiar astronomical chronograph.
It is impossible in the course of this short sketch to present any
full account of Professor Henry's scientific researches. Hejyas a
born expprimpntajist^ one who knew how to cross-examine Nature
as an astute lawyer would cross-examine a witness and thus bring
130
LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
out her inmost secrets. He was one of those men by whom it
seems as if Nature loves to be cross-examined. Whether his
questions pertained to the most familiar phenomena of every-day
life or the most complex combinations in the laboratory, they are
all marked by the qualities of the author's mind, acuteness in
research, a clear appreciation of the logic of science, and an enthu-
siasm for truth irrespective of its utilitarian results. During the
period of his residence at Princeton, he was a voluminous contribu-
tor to the Transactions of the American Philosophical Society, an
association already famous in the history of science by the names
of Franklin and Rittenhouse to which his own name was now to
be added.
On December 3, 1846, Henry was chosen the first Secretary of
e newly organized Smithsonian Institution. The work of the
remaining years of his long life is so intimately connected with this
institution that the organization must be described to understand
^ v the man. The inducement is all the stronger to do this because
there is probably no foundation for the promotion of science or
original research which shows so many features interesting by
"> their mysterious character and by the novelty of the idea.
James Smithson, a private English gentleman of fortune and
scientific tastes, and a chemist of sufficient note to be elected a
'ellow of the Royal Society, led a comparatively retired life, and
died unmarried, in 1829. He does not seem to have left any near
relatives except a nephew. On opening his will it was found to
be short and simple. Except an annuity to his servant, he left
the nephew, for his life, the whole income from his property, and
the property itself to the nephew's children should he leave any.
In case of the death of the nephew without leaving a child or
^ children, the whole property was bequeathed "to the United States
of America, to found at Washington, under the name of the Smith-
sonian Institution, an establishment for the increase and diffusion
of knowledge among men"
Probably few men have ever written a clause so well fitted as
this to excite a curiosity which can never be gratified. The views
and motives of the writer in making this provision are involved
JOSEPH HENRY 131
in impenetrable obscurity. The first idea to strike a reader would
be that Smithson had some especially kind feeling toward either
the United States or its form of government. But no evidence of
this has ever been discovered. He is not known to have had the
personal acquaintance of an American, and his tastes were sup-
posed to have been aristocratic rather then democratic.
It would also have been supposed that the organization of an
institution which was to carry his name down to posterity would
have been a subject of long and careful thought, and of conversa-
tion with friends, and would have been prescribed in more definite
language than that used in the will. Some note, some appended
paper would certainly be found communicating his views. But
nothing of the sort has ever come to light.
We thus have the curious spectacle of a retired English gentle-
man, probably unacquainted with a single American citizen, be-
queathing the whole of his large fortune to our Government to
found an establishment which was described in ten words, with-
out a memorandum of any kind by which his intentions could be
divined or the recipient of the gift guided in applying it. The
nephew, named Hungerford, died in 1835. An amicable suit in
chancery was instituted by our Government, through the Hon.
Richard Rush, as its agent, the defendant being the Messrs.
Drummond, executors of Smithson. Although there was no con-
test at any point, the suit occupied three years. On May pth,
1838, the property was adjudged to the United States, and during
the next few months disposed of by Mr. Rush for about 105,000.
The money was deposited in the Treasury in the following autumn.
The problem now presented to Congress was to organize the
Institution described by Smithson. The writer must confess that
he does not share the views of those who maintain that the intent
of Smithson was too clear and definite to be mistaken, and that
the difficulty which our legislators found in deciding upon a plan
shows their lack of intellectual appreciation. It is very much
easier to see the right solution of a problem after it is reached than
before. It ought to be a subject of gratitude rather than criticism
that it took the country eight years to reach a solution. The plan
132 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
at length adopted was better than any of those previously proposed,
and the form into which the Institution grew was still in advance
of the plan which at length passed Congress.
After a seven years' discussion of all sorts of combinations, the
act under which the Institution was at last organized became a
law in August, 1846. It provided that the business of the Institu-
tion should be conducted by a Board of Regents, who should
choose a suitable person as Secretary of the Institution. It also
provided for the erection of a suitable building of plain and durable
materials and structure, without unnecessary ornament, for the
reception of objects of natural history, a chemical laboratory, a
library and gallery of art, and the necessary lecture-rooms. The
Secretary had charge of the building and property of the Institu-
tion, and was also to discharge the duties of librarian and keeper
of the museum, and, with the consent of the Board of Regents, to
employ the necessary assistants. All the officers were removable
by the Board of Regents whenever in their judgment the interests
of the Institution required them to be changed.
The Board of Regents created by the act immediately com-
menced active operations. In December, 1846, a committee of
the Board, consisting of Mr. Robert Dale Owen, Mr. Henry N.
Hilliard, Professor A. D. Bache, Mr. Rufus Choate, and Mr.
Pennybacker, made a report on the plan of organization. Among
the recommendations of this report the qualifications desired in
the Secretary are of interest to us. It was pointed out as an almost
necessary condition that the Secretary should become the chief
executive officer of the Institution. After some general remarks
respecting the qualifications of Secretary the report proceeds:
"Your committee think it would be an advantage if a compe-
tent Secretary could be found, combining also the qualifications
of a professor of the highest standing in some branch of science.
If to these be added efficiency as an executive officer and a knowl-
edge of the world we may hope to see filling this distinguished
post a man who, when brought into communication with dis-
tinguished men and societies in this and other countries, shall be
capable, as representative of the Smithsonian Institution, to reflect
honour on the office, not requiring to borrow distinction from it.
JOSEPH HENRY 133
"Your committee will not withhold their opinion that upon
the choice of this single officer, more probably than on any other
act of the Board, will depend the future good name and success
and usefulness of the Smithsonian Institution."
Previous to the election of Secretary the following resolution,
from the same comittee, was adopted by the Board:
"Resolved, That it is essential, for the advancement of the
proper interests of the trust, that the Secretary of the Smithso-
nian Institution be a man possessing weight of character, and a
high grade of talent; and that it is further desirable that he possess
eminent scientific and general acquirements; that he be a man
capable of advancing science and promoting letters by original
research and effort, well qualified to act as a respected channel of
communication between the Institution and scientific and literary
societies in this and foreign countries; and, in a word, a man
worthy to represent before the world of science and of letters the
Institution over which this Board presides."
Although couched in general terms it may be supposed that
these expressions had direct reference to the subject of our notice,
and were meant to justify the Board in selecting a scientific inves-
tigator of so much eminence to take charge of the establishment.
Professor Henry was elected on December 3, 1846, and signified
his accceptance a few days later. It was a frequent remark of his
in after years th^| hp h^ n^v^r sought a position, and had never
accepted one without fear and trembling. Of the few positions
he ever accepted we might well suppose that this was one on which
he entered with most hesitation. Held in the highest esteem by
the authorities of the college, his position at Princeton was in
every respect most agreeable. His enthusiasm as a teacher could
not fail to bring around him an appreciative body of pupils. He
was not moved by any merely worldly ambition to seek a larger
and more prominent field of activity. He thus enjoyed what is
almost the happiest lot of man, that of living in a community
suited to his tastes and pursuits, and of being held in consideration
by all with whom he came in contact. He was now to take a
position around which had raged for eight years a conflict of
opinion which might at any time break out anew. That all parties
134 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
could be satisfied was out of the question, and his aversion to
engaging in anything which would lead to controversy was so
great that he would hardly have accepted had it not been for the
urgent solicitation of Professor Bache. The latter pointed out to
him that the proper administration of Smithson's munificent
bequest was at stake, and that he, Henry, was the only man
available to whom all parties could turn with the assurance that
the Institution would be carried through its difficulties. This
was an appeal which he could not understand; he therefore deter-
mined at least to make the attempt, and entered upon his duties
with the assurance from the college authorities that, should he
fail, his position at Princeton would always be open to him, and
his friends ever ready to welcome him back.
After two or three years the divergent views respecting the proper
direction to be given to the activities of the Smithsonian Institu-
tion gradually began to aggregate themselves into two groups,
and thus to assume a partisan aspect. Many of the projects which,
during the eight years of discussion, had found supporters, were
entirely given up, such, for instance, as the agricultural college,
i great observatory, the instruction of women and the establish-
ment of a school of science. But the act of Congress provided, as
already stated, for a library, a museum, a gallery of art, and courses
of lectures. Henry, while yielding to the necessity imposed upon
the Institution of complying with the law directing the establish-
ment of these accessories, was in the main opposed on principle
to their permanent support by the Institution. The position he
took was that as Smithson was a scientific investigator, the terms
of his endowment should be construed in accordance with the in-
terpretation which he himself would have put upon his words.
The increase of knowledge would mean the discovery of new
truths of any sort, especially the truths of Nature. The only way
in which an extended diffusion of knowledge among men at large
could be effected was by publication.
The departments of exploration, research, and publication were
therefore those to which Henry was most inclined to devote the
energies of the Institution. While he made no factious opposition
JOSEPH HENRY 135
to the collection of a library, he did not consider it as increasing
knowledge or contributing to that wide diffusion of it which Smith-
son provided for. True, it might indirectly contribute to such
diffusion by giving authors the means of preparing books; but
this assistance was of too local and indirect a character to justify
the appropriation of a large proportion of the Smithson funds to
it. Nearly the same objections applied to the museum. The
objects therein preserved were the property of the Government, or
such as were necessary to supplement the governmental collections.
Perhaps the project on which the Secretary looked with most
disfavor was the building. The system of operations which he
would have preferred required little more than a modest suite of
office-rooms. The expenditure of several hundred thousand dol-
lars on an architectural structure seemed to him an appropriation
of the funds to which he could give no active encouragement. In
later years one of the warnings he often gave to incipient institu^
tions of learning was not to spend more money in bricks and
mortar, than was absolutely nprpss^rv for the commencement of
operations, and it can hardly be doubted that his sentiments in
this direction had their origin in his dissatisfaction with the large
expenditure upon the Smithsonian building.
We must not be understood as saying that Henry antagonized
all these objects, considered them unworthy of any support from
the Smithsonian fund, or had any lack of appreciation of their
intellectual value. His own culture and mental activities had
been of too varied a character to admit of his forming any narrow
view of the proper administration of the establishment. The
general tenor of his views may be summed up in two practical
propositions:
(i) The Institution should undertake nothing which could be
done by other agencies. A paper or report which would naturally
find its outlet in some other channel was never to be published by
the Institution. A research made for a commercial object would
find plenty to engage in it without his encouragement. It was the
duty of the Government to provide room for its own collections
and to make them accessible to investigators, rather than to draw
136 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
upon the Smithson fund for this purpose. As a natural corol-
lary of these views the Institution should not engage in competi-
tion with other organizations in any enterprise whatever.
(2) Objects of merely local benefit, which no one could avail
himself of except by a visit to Washington, were to be regarded
as of subsidiary importance, as not well fitted to carry out the views
of Smithson to the wide extent he would have desired, and as
y properly belonging to the local authorities.
Putting both these principles, the library, the museum, the art
gallery, the courses of lectures, and the Smithsonian building
were looked upon as things only temporarily undertaken by the
Institution, to be turned over to other agencies whenever such
could be found ready to assume the responsibility of the opera-
tions connected with them.
The position taken by Professor Henry resulted in a contest
v of parties which was for the time being decisive of the policy of
3 the Institution. A considerable party in the Board of Regents as
well as several officers of the Institution were opposed to his views.
v Among these was the librarian, a gentleman of much learning and
^' good standing in the literary world. He naturally wanted all the
<: I-..; money he could command to increase the library, a proceeding
. to which Henry was opposed, holding that as this was only a local
- benefit, it should be provided by Congress. But the librarian was
a man of such influence that it became evident to Henry that the
carrying out of his own policy was impossible while he was in
Suffice. He, therefore, took the bold course of removing him.
This brought up the whole subject of the power of the Secretary
to remove the officers and employees of the Institution. The
leader of the minority was the Honorable Rufus Choate of Boston.
He was an active supporter of the library scheme and showed his
dissatisfaction with the conclusion by resigning his position as
regent. This led to the subject being referred to a committee of
the Senate, which made a unanimous report in favor of the Secre-
tary and the majority of the Board of Regents. In the House of
Representatives, of which Mr. Choate was a member, the matter
assumed a more serious aspect. Mr. Choate read a letter criticiz-
JOSEPH HENRY 137
ing the Board of Regents which was referred to a select committee
of five, appointed to inquire and report to the House whether the
Smithsonian Institution had been managed and its funds ex-
pended in accordance with law, and whether any additional legis-
lation was necessary. After a careful examination, extending
through a period of six weeks, the committee seems to have been
unable to agree upon a report. Two reports were, in fact, made.
One, signed by Mr. Upham, the chairman, took ground against
the power of removal by the Secretary of the Institution, and
against the restriction of the increase of the library as contemplated.
Another very elaborate report, signed by two members, sustained
the Secretary and the majority of the Board. The remaining two
members of the committee signed neither report; nor did either
report propose any action on the part of Congress except the pay-
ment of the clerk of the committee. The contest which had been
going on for a period of seventeen years thus ended in a complete
vindication of Professor Henry and the position he had assumed.
During the remainder of his life he had the great satisfaction of
feeling that he was held in constantly increasing esteem both by
the Regents and the public.
In January, 1865, an event occurred which though an almost
irreparable calamity, tended materially toward the appropriation
of the Smithsonian fund income toward those objects which the
Secretary thought most proper. A considerable portion of the
upper story of the main building, and a part of the lower story
were burned. The incipient art gallery, the chemical laboratory,
and the lecture-room were all involved in the destruction. Happily
the library and the museum remained nearly intact. An oppor-
tunity thus offered itself to have some of the trusts imposed upon
the fund undertaken by other agencies. The Library of Congress
was rapidly growing into a great national institution, so that there
was no longer any sound reason for collecting a separate Smith-
sonian library. An act was, therefore, passed by Congress provid-
ing for the deposit of the Smithsonian books in the Library of
Congress, so that all could be consulted together, and the Institu-
tion at the same time be relieved from their care. The necessity
138 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
for reconstructing the art gallery was obviated by the prospective
establishment of the Corcoran Art Gallery in a neighboring part
of the city. The erection of Lincoln Hall and the establishment
of a course of lectures, sometimes of a high intellectual character,
by the Young Men's Christian Association, did away with the
necessity of reconstructing the lecture-room. The principal im-
mediate drawback was that the building had to be reconstructed
at the expense of the Smithsonian fund, although Professor Henry
was not entirely satisfied that so large a building was necessary
for the Institution.
The only serious burden which remained upon the Institution
was the National Museum; but the expense of its support was
now undertaken by the Government, and it therefore ceased to be
a charge upon the Smithsonian fund except in this indirect way
that the building which housed it had been paid for out of that
fund. No advantage would therefore have been gained by remov-
ing the museum unless the building was purchased by the Govern-
ment. The Secretary was, therefore, desirous of effecting such a
sale, but his views do not appear to have met with the entire con-
currence of the Board of Regents. The latter were not unnaturally
averse to seeing the Institution surrender its imposing habitation
and the associations which clustered around it. A very natural
compromise would have been for the Government to pay the Insti-
tution a suitable moderate rent for those portions of the building
devoted to the care of government property, but it does not appear
that this measure was ever proposed.
The position of the Smithsonian building in the public grounds
led Professor Henry to take an active interest in measures for the
improvement of the city. Among his latest efforts in the direction
were those made with the object of having the old canal which
bounded the Mall filled up. Some may still remember a witty
argument with which he urged this measure upon the Board of
Public Works. "The great inefficiency of the Smithsonian had
been said by its opponents to be illustrated by the fact that, al-
though formed to diffuse knowledge over the whole world, it had
not diffused knowledge enough among the local authorities of the
JOSEPH HENRY 139
place where it was situated to make them see the necessity of
abating the pestilential nuisance of this obsolete canal." The
work of filling up was immediately commenced by the Board to
which the argument was addressed.
The administration of the Smithsonian Institution was so heavy
a task from a business point of view that it was impossible for
Professor Henry to continue his personal scientific researches.
His function was now not so much to carry on investigations of
his own as to encourage and support investigations by others.
One of the most important measures toward this end was the
publication of original scientific works, which would both promote
knowledge and diffuse it among men. From this point of view,
the correctness of which no one will contest, this was the most
effective step by which Smithson's purpose could be carried out.
A medium of publication was all the more necessary because at
that time our scientific societies were so poor that investigators
found great difficulty in securing the publication of their works.
Naturally such works, especially if printed in proper style, are
quite expensive. They frequently require illustrations and these
formerly cost a great deal more than they do now. Seeing this
urgent want Professor Henry commenced the issue of the Smith-
sonian Contributions to Knowledge, a series of memoirs going on
from year to year, now forming an important part of every great
scientific library. In order to make it certain that only important
publications should be published, every paper before being ac-
cepted was referred to a committee, to report upon its originality
and scientific value.
In bringing out the spirit of Henry's work, which placed pure
knowledge ahead of practical applications, it must not be supposed
that he was indifferent to the latter. If he seemed to pay little
attention to utility it was because he well knew that there would
be a score of men all ready to put discoveries to a useful end for
every one person who was qualified to make them. But when this
was not the case he was ever ready to promote the practical appli-
cation of science. One of his enterprises in this direction sowed
the seed from which our present weather service grew. One of
140 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
the first works of the Smithsonian Institution was to arrange a
system of meteorological observations at various points in the
country. The commencement of work at the institution chanced
to be coeval with the extensive application of the electric telegraph.
In 1874, Henry called the attention of the Board of Regents to the
facilities which lines of telegraph would afford for warning ob-
servers to be on the watch for the approach of a storm. As a part
of the system of meteorology, the telegraph was to be employed
in the investigation of atmospheric phenomena. The advantage
to agriculture and commerce to be derived from a knowledge of
the approach of a storm was recommended as a subject deserving
the attention of the Government. About 1850 a plan of mapping
the weather was instituted. A few now living may remember the
large maps of the country suspended in the entrance of the Institu-
tution, on which the state of the weather in different regions was
indicated by movable signs. This system continued until 1861,
when the breaking out of the Civil War prevented its further con-
tinuance.
After the close of the war a renewal of the system was proposed
and some effort made for the attainment of this object. But
with this, as with every other enterprise, Professor Henry would
never go on with it after anyone else was found ready to take it up.
In 1869 Professor Abbe commenced the issue of regular weather
bulletins from the Cincinnati Observatory, showing the state of
the weather at a number of telegraphic stations, followed by a
brief forecast of the weather which would probably be experienced
at Cincinnati during the next twenty-four hours. About the
same time provision was made by Congress for a national system
under the direction of the Chief Signal Officer of the Army. This
received the cordial support of Professor Henry, who gave every
facility at the disposal of the Institution to General Myer for the
completion of the organization, and, indeed, turned over the
whole practical part of the subject to him.
Among the services of Professor Henry outside of the field of
pure science and of the administration of the Smithsonian Institu-
tion the first place is due to those rendered in connection with the
JOSEPH HENRY 141
Lighthouse Board. This Board was organized by act of Con-
gress in 1852 to discharge all administrative duties relating to the
lighthouse establishment on the American coasts. The duties as-
signed to Professor Henry in this connection included experiments
of all kinds pertaining to lights and signals. The illuminating
power of various oils was made the subject of exact photometric
experiments, and large sums were thus saved to the Govern-
ment by the adoption of those illuminators which gave most light
in proportion to cost. The necessity of fog-signals led to what
are, for our present purpose, the most important researches in
this connection, namely, his investigations into the phenomena of
sound. Acoustics had always been one of his favorite subjects.
As early as 1856 he published a carefully prepared paper on the
acoustics of the public buildings, and he frequently criticized the
inattention of architects to this subject. His regular investiga-
tions of sound in connection with the Lighthouse Board were
commenced in 1865. It had long been known that the audibility
of sounds at considerable distances, and especially at sea, varies
in a manner which has seemed quite unaccountable. There were
numerous instances of a sound not becoming audible until the
hearer was immediately in its neighborhood, and others of its
being audible at extraordinary distances. Very often a sound was
audible at a great distance and was lost as the hearer approached
its source. The frequency of fogs on our eastern coasts and the
important part played by sound signals in warning vessels of
danger rendered it necessary to investigate the whole theory of
the subject, and experiment upon it on a large scale.
One of the first conclusions reached related to the influence of
reflectors and of intervening obstacles. That a sound in the focus
of a parabolic reflector is thrown forward and intensified in the
manner of light has long been a well-known fact. The logical
consequence of this is that the sound is cut off behind such a reflec-
tor, so that at short distances it is many times louder in front of
the reflector than behind it. In the case of light, which moves in
right lines, it is well known that such an increased volume of light
thrown in one direction will go on indefinitely. But in the case of
142 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
sound the law was found to be altogether different the farther
the observer went away from the source, the less the influence
of the reflector, and at the distance of two or three miles the latter
was without effect, the sound being about equally audible in
whatever direction the reflector might be turned. Another impor-
tant discovery, made the following year, was that when a sound was
moving against the wind it might be heard at an elevation when
it was inaudible near the surface of the water.
The observations resulted in collecting an immense mass of
facts, including many curious abnormal phenomena. Henry was
always extremely cautious in formulating theories of the subject,
and had no ambition of associating his name with a generalization
which future researches might disprove. The result of his obser-
vations, however, was to show that there were none of these curi-
ous phenomena which might not be accounted for by a species
of refraction arising from varying atmospheric currents. The
possible effects of this cause had been pointed out by Professor
Stokes of England in 1857, and the views of the latter seem to
have been adopted by Henry. One of the generalizations is very
clearly explained on this theory: A current of air is more rapid at
a short height above the water than at its immediate surface. If a
sound-wave is moving with such a current of air its upper part will
be carried forward more rapidly than its lower part; its front will
thus be presented downward and it will tend to strike the water.
If moving in an opposite direction against the wind, the greater
velocity of the latter above the water will cause the upper part of
the sound-wave to be retarded. The wave will thus be thrown
upward, and the course of the sound will be a curved line convex to
the water. Thus an observer at the surface may be in a region of
comparative silence, when by ascending a few yards he will reach
the region of sound vibration.
It was at the lighthouse station in the month of December, 1877,
that Professor Henry noticed the first sympton of the disorder
which terminated his life a few months later. After passing
a restless and uncomfortable night, he arose in the morning,
finding his hand partially paralyzed. A neighboring physician
JOSEPH HENRY
143
being sent for made a prognosis of a very serious character. Al-
though no prospect of recovery could be held out, it was hoped
that the progress of the disease would be so slow that, with his
healthy constitution, he might still endure for a considerable period.
This hope, however, rapidly faded, and it soon became evident
that his work was approaching its end, but his intellect was not
for a moment clouded nor his interest 'in what was going on
diminished. Only a day or two before his death he asked whether
the transit of Mercury had been successfully observed and the
appropriation for observing the total eclipse secured. He was
then gradually sinking, and died at noon on May 13, 1878.
We should make a great mistake if we measured Henry's useful-
ness simply by what he ostensibly did, much as the latter would
have redounded to his credit. He was one of those men, now
becoming altogether too rare, who felt that his activities should
not be bounded by the requirements of official duty, but that one
should strive to leave behind him something which would make th
world better. He appeared in Washington as a recognized leader
of science, whom those connected with the Government coul
readily consult and by whose advice they could profit. Our pres-
ent system of government science had then scarcely begun. About
the only institution of a scientific character which the Govern-
ment had established was the Patent Office, to which was at-
tached an officer whose duty it was to collect statistics relating to
agriculture. Out of this little beginning grew the present Agri-
cultural Department.
A circumstance not to be lost sight of is that Henry, in obedience
to one of the great principles of his life, voluntarily relinquished
to others each field of investigation at the very time when he had
it so far cultivated that it might yield him fame and profit. It is
an unfortunate fact that the world, in awarding its laurels, is prone
to overlook the sometimes long list of those whose labors have
rendered a result possible, and to remember only the one who gave
the finishing stroke, or applied previously known principles to
some useful result. There are few investigators to whom the
criterion in question would do less justice than to the subject of
144 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
our notice. In his unselfish devotion to knowledge he sowed that
others might reap, on the broad humanitarian ground that a
valuable harvest would be sure to find a reaper while the seed might
wait in vain for a sower. Had this been done solely in his individ-
ual character we should have looked upon his course with admira-
tion; but in bringing the principle into the Smithsonian Institution
he avoided a danger and rendered a benefit for which we cannot
be too grateful. To this principle is due the fact that the Institu-
>tion never appeared as a competitor, seeking an advantage for
itself, but always as the active cooperator in every enterprise tend-
ing to carry out the object prescribed by its founder.
So vast was the field which even with these restrictions Henry
had before him that this readiness to abandon portions of it to
others might seem very natural did we not know by experience
how apt the contrary view is to prevail. Besides his electric re-
searches and his establishment of a meteorological system his
field of work took in such subjects as the physical geography of
his native state, terrestrial magnetism, capillarity, molecular
physics, observations of meteors, phosphoresence, solar physics,
protection from lightning, observations of the aurora, the radia-
tion of heat, the strength of building materials, experiments on an
alleged spontaneous separation of alcohol and water, aeronautics,
the ventilation of buildings, the phenomena of sound, and various
other subjects hardly admitting of classification.
One of his interesting traits of character, and one which power-
fully tended to make the Smithsonian Institution popular and use-
ful, was a certain rnt^llerhial phi[^nthropy which showed itself
in ceaseless efforts to make others enjoy the same wide views of
nature which he himself did. He was accessible to a fault, and ever
ready to persuade any honest propounder of a new theory that he
was wrong. The only subject on which the writer ever had to
express to him strong dissent from his views was that of the practi-
cability of convincing "universe-makers" of their errors. They
always answered with opposing arguments, generally in a tone of
arrogance or querulousness which deterred even the modest Henry
from replying further; but in spite of oft-repeated failure he still
JOSEPH HENRY 145
considered it a duty to do what he could toward imbuing the next
one of the class who addressed him with correct notions of scientific
principles.
It is hardly necessary to say that in Professor Henry's mental
composition were included a breadth of intellect, clearness^ of
philosophic^jafiigjit, and ,qtrp t p^fh of judgment, without which he
could never have carried out the difficult task which his official
position imposed upon him. His mental fiber was well seen in
the stand which he took against the delusions of spiritualism. On
no subject was he more decided than on that of the impossibility
and absurdity of the pseudo-miracles of the mediums, who seemed
to him to claim no less a power than that of overruling the laws of
nature. An intellectual person yielding credence to their preten-
sions seemed to him to be in great danger of insanity. An old and
respected friend, who had held a prominent position in the govern-
ment service, in speaking to him on the subject, once described
how he had actually seen a spiritual medium rise in the air and
waft himself out of the window. " Judge," answered the Professor,
"you never saw that, and if you think you did, you are in a danger-
ous mental condition. If you do not give this delusion up you
will be in the insane asylum before you know it. As a loving
friend I beseech you to take warning of what I say, and to reflect
that what you think you saw is a mental delusion which requires
the most careful treatment."
He once related to the writer a curious circumstance as an illus-
tration of the character of this " spiritual" legerdemain. A noted
spiritualist had visited Washington during Mr. Lincoln's adminis-
tration and held several seances with the President himself. The
latter was extremely desirous that Professor Henry should see the
medium, and give his opinion as to how he performed his wonder-
ful feats. Although Henry generally avoided all contact with such
men, he consented to receive him at the Smithsonian Institution.
Among the acts proposed was that of making sounds in various
quarters of the room. This was something which the keen senses
and ready experimental faculty of the Professor were well qualified
to investigate. He turned his head in various positions while the
146 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
sounds were being emitted. He then turned toward the man with
the utmost firmness and said, "I do not know how you make the
sounds, but this I perceive very clearly: they do not come from
the room but from your person." It was in vain that the operator
protested they did not, and that he had no knowledge how they
were produced. The keen ear of his examiner could not be
deceived.
Some time afterward Henry was traveling in the east, and took
a seat in a railway car beside a young man, who finding who his
companion was, entered into conversation with him, and informed
him that he was a maker of telegraph instruments. His advances
were received in so friendly a manner that he went further yet,
and confided to the Professor that his ingenuity had been called
into requisition by spiritual mediums, to whom he furnished the
apparatus necessary for the manifestations. Henry asked him
by what mediums he had been thus engaged, and was interested
to find that among them was the very man he had met at the
Smithsonian Institution. The sounds which the medium had
emitted were then described to the young man, who in reply stated
that the apparatus had been constructed by himself, and ex-
plained its structure and working. It was fastened around the
muscular part of the upper arm, and so devised that the sounds
would be produced by a simple action of the muscle, unaccom-
panied by any motion of the joints of the arm, and therefore en-
tirely invisible to a bystander.
On the whole we must class Joseph Henry among those men
whose lives afford the most interesting examples- for the guidance
of youth. He who, at the present day, has to do with public life
may well be discouraged by the selfishness of its spirit and the
extent to which routine takes the place of reason in all its opera-
tions. Under these circumstances the spectacle of a man ani-
mated by the most exalted impulses, .devoting his energies to the
promotion of good works on the fy'ffhfst pj'ane. and leaving after
"Him none but fragrant memories, ought to be a source of encour-
agement and inspiration to every young man who is able to follow
in his footsteps.
LOUIS AGASSIZ
ZOOLOGIST
1807-1873
BY CHARLES FREDERICK HOLDER
"I WISH to be a good son, a good citizen, and the first naturalist
of my time. I feel within me the strength of a whole generation
to work towards this end, and I shall reach it, if the means be not
wanting." So wrote young Agassiz to his father on the threshold
of his career. He was a good son, he became a good citizen and
in the opinion of many of his peers he was the first naturalist of
his time, ranking with Darwin, Huxley and Spencer, and if brevity
alone was desired the historian might stop here, and let his own
outline of principles stand.
It is a pleasure to have known Louis Agassiz, to have seen his
genial smile, and to remember his strong personality. The
writer lived at Lynn, and with the late Dr. J. B. Holder often
walked over to Nahant and visited Agassiz in his artistic home on
the rocky peninsula which reaches out into Massachusetts Bay.
In Dr. Holder's correspondence - covering nearly twenty years'
acquaintance with Agassiz many interesting letters occur referring
to collecting tours and dredging in Massachusetts Bay, which
ended in Dr. Holder going to Tortugas, Florida, to make an elab-
orate study of the Florida reef, which was carried on for six or
seven years. During this period the writer had, for the pleasure
it afforded, an active participation in the collective part of the plan
of the work; and recalls the remarkable interest of Agassiz in the
work, his long and interesting letters, his delight at the many new
species found and described. Even when Dr. Holder's deductions
regarding the growth of corals were, to some extent antagonistic
148 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
to his own, the result was not a tragedy, as some of the breaking
of fond theories appear to be. Agassiz had placed himself on
record as believing that corals and coral reefs grew very slowly.
Dr. Holder proved the contrary, and with the writer kept coral
heads in partial confinement on the reef, which doubled their
diameter in a year. Such a specimen is to be seen in the Ameri-
can Museum of Natural History and is figured in the writer's
Elements of Zoology.
Agassiz impressed me as a strong, virile man of remarkable
mold. Had he not been a naturalist, he would have been a
leader of men in some other direction. As an organizer he was
preeminent; as a scientist profound. He was a theorist and idealist
yet his attitude was essentially scientific; he sought the truth and
worked along the lines of logical investigation, feeling his way from
fact to fact, not jumping at conclusions; and it is this quality of
mind that has given him the position in the scientific history of
the world as its greatest teacher in the department of zoological
science.
It is rare that an alien has become so thoroughly identified with
the country of his adoption as Agassiz. He was born in Switzer-
land May 28, 1807, in the little village of Mottier, in the canton of
Vaud, and came from a long line of intellectual men and women;
and possibly the deep religious feeling which dominated his entire
life and to some extent influenced his career, can be traced to
heredity, as his father was the sixth clergyman in a direct line from
a divine who came down from a Burgundian Huguenot who fled
from France to escape the persecutions which characterized the
reign of Louis XIV.
While Agassiz had a life struggle to attain the prominence he
succeeded to, it can be said that he was a born genius in the fields in
which he later became conspicuous. When a youth he developed
a remarkable taste for nature study. He was conscientious,
indefatigable, studious, earnest, and possessed of a masterly
power of overcoming obstacles that would have appeared insur-
mountable to the average youth. An illustration of this is to be
seen in his attempts to become a naturalist. His father was deter-
LOUIS AGASSIZ 149
mined that he should be a business man or a physician; the son
was equally determined to follow the study of his choice and he
won by the very greatness, the loftiness of his appeals, and the
logic of his well-supported arguments.
The very element of semi-poverty would have discouraged the
average boy alone, but to Agassiz it was another reason for suc-
cess, and in this determination, reinforced by lucid demonstra-
tions, one sees the explanation of his successes in the various epochs
of his career which led to the lofty pinnacle upon which he stood
when he passed on into history.
Agassiz's youth was spent in the open. Until the age of ten he
roamed the fields a devoted student of every branch of nature,
from the song of the birds to the deep snows and glaciers of his
mountains. During this period he studied with his parents. He
displayed not only a remarkable love for animals, but a peculiar
desire to know all about them, their structure, and habits; and at
this time we find him an all around investigator, not only studying
living fishes in a home-made aquarium, but watching the work of
mechanics of various kinds and copying their work. At ten years
of age he entered the University of Bienne, and at twelve had
a remarkable collection of animals and plants, committing the
Latin names to memory and compiling remarkable manuscripts;
in fact, tutoring himself "in the rudiments of many desperate
studies" and methods which, doubtless, had in later years to be
unlearned. Indeed he says, "I am conscious that at successive
periods of my life I have employed very different systems of study."
When very young Agassiz began to buy books relating to the
studies of his choice. In the later years of his life at Bienne, he
announced his strong desire to become a naturalist, but his father
believing it would mean a life of comparative poverty, determined
that he should follow a business career, and while Agassiz was
secretly preparing to become the great savant, the father was
laying plans for his entering the firm of his uncle at Neuchatel;
but Agassiz succeeded in holding off the decision, and entered
the College of Lausanne where he met many scientific men who in-
fluenced his career. Here he had first access to collections of
150 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
scientific value. Here in 1823 he listened to his first lecture in
Zoology.
Seeing that they could not influence him his family virtually
surrendered, or a compromise was effected through Dr. Mathias
Mayor, and Agassiz entered the medical school at Zurich which
he considered a step in the right direction. Some idea of the charm-
ing personality of Agassiz can be formed from the following
incident. With a few friends he was on a walking trip through
the country where he met en roiite, a gentlemen who invited them
to join him at lunch, during which, he was so impressed with the
young student that he later expressed a desire to adopt him, and
to undertake his complete education, a consummation which would
have been accomplished had not family ties between the boy and
his parents been so strong. All who met young Agassiz fell under
the potent charm of his personality and it was noted that his pro-
fessors took exceptional interest in him. In this way his acquaint-
ance was increased and he was enabled to meet men of impor-
tance, and to borrow books. It is difficult for the reader to-day,
when every village has its library, to realize that young Agassiz
had the greatest difficulty in obtaining books. They were rare,
and he did not possess the money to buy them; and that this can
be thoroughly appreciated, it may be said that he spent days and
weeks copying books that he had borrowed, which he could not
afford to buy, that he might at least own a copy, while pages and
chapters of others were committed to memory. It would be diffi-
cult to imagine a modern boy copying two volumes of Lamarck's
Animaux sans Vertebres, that he might have the material at hand.
The character of Agassiz was influenced greatly by the men he
associated with at this time. This is not strange, but it is remark-
able that he should have sought the friendship of such men and
preferred it; and that he might reap the full value of this associa-
tion he entered Heidelberg University in 1820. He now met
Leuckart, Tiedemann and Braun, who gave him every possible
aid. His life now was that of a student actuated by a remarkable
prescience. The ordinary frivolities of youth did not enter into his
composition; not that he was not full of life, fond of sports, but
LOUIS AGASSIZ 151
he seems to have been gifted with that rare faculty in the young,
of looking ahead. He planned his career and was working up
to it with a sagacity that was almost abnormal. He was confined
to his books and lectures, yet he did not neglect outdoor life and
exercise. He was a skilled fencer; few could tire him in walks over
the country, and to this was due his lusty frame and commanding
figure and later in life his power to withstand fatigue.
Perhaps no feature of Agassiz's life has attracted so much atten-
tion among laymen as his thoroughly religious feeling and attitude,
and this never changed. He possessed it all though life, and in
the great intellectual conflicts in which he became engaged in
later years, his religious nature was always a dominant factor to
be counted with. We find this cropping out in his student life.
His home training, the influence of his mother, and the traditions
of his family were strong within him, and the "rare comet in the
Heidelberg horizon," as Braun describes him at this time, was a
student with strong religious proclivities that could not be over-
come by even the jokes of his more or less jovial fellows.
In 1827 Agassiz entered the University of Munich, one of the
epochs of his career, accomplished not without a struggle, as his
family were people of moderate means, and he was sustained at
every step of his career only by the greatest effort. He writes at
this period:
"I cannot review my Munich life without deep gratitude. The
city teemed with resources for the student in arts, letters, philos-
ophy, and science. It was distinguished at that time for activity
in public as well as in academic life. The King seemed liberal;
he was the friend of poets and artists, and aimed at concentrating
all the glories of Germany in his new university. I thus enjoyed
for a few years the example of the most brilliant intellects, and
that stimulus which is given by competition between men equally
eminent in different spheres of human knowledge. Under such
circumstances a man either subsides into the position of a fol-
lower in the ranks that gather around a master, or he aspires to
be a master himself."
Already Agassiz's marked personality was making itself felt
upon his compatriots. The "Little Academy" came into being,
152 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
a meeting of men of congenial tastes and spirit, where papers
were discussed and great projects with all the enthusiasm of youth,
proposed.
Mr. Dinkel, who was the artist of Agassiz, in describing the
"Little Academy" says that the members all had nicknames, as
"Molluscus," "Cyprinus," and "Rhubarb." The room was
small and so filled with specimens, seat and floor, that visitors
not only had to stand up, but sometimes could not move around,
while the walls were covered with sketches of all kinds of animals,
and their skeletons and grinning skulls, to the possible terror of
the landlady.
Here Agassiz outlined the Brazilian trip which came later,
suggested by Martius who told of his experiences in this lotus land
of the entomologist.
That Agassiz was influenced by the strong personality of Von
Martius is evident. The latter was the friend of the King of
Bavaria; a man of ripe scholarship, who with Spix, had made for
his majesty an important trip through South America. Spix
died, and Von Martius, to the astonishment and delight of Agassiz,
gave him the fishes of this great expedition to work up, this being
in a way a notable step in his career. It was the turning of the
roads to Agassiz. His parents hoped that he would graduate and
become a practicing physician, but Agassiz did not take them
wholly into his confidence and tell them of his association with
Von Martius, or the signal honor that had fallen to him, as he
knew that it would cause them annoyance; so he began on the
great work at night, pursuing his medical studies by day, deter-
mining to use the work as a lever to induce his parents to consent
to the scientific career.
To his father he wrote, "If during the course of my studies I
succeed in making myself known by a work of distinction, will
you not then consent that I shall study, at least during one year,
the natural sciences alone, and then accept a professorship in
Natural History, with the understanding that if in the first place,
and in the time agreed upon, I shall take my Doctor's degree? "
His father replied, "Let the sciences be the balloon in which you
LOUIS AGASSIZ 153
prepare to travel through higher regions, but let medicines and
surgery be your parachutes."
The secret could not be kept, and the spectacle of Agassiz at
twenty-one years of age making a report on the fishes of Brazil
to the Government, was so signal an honor that it silenced all
opposition. The work gave him fame, and when completed, the
name of Agassiz appeared upon the title-page as a Doctor of
Philosophy, which was soon followed by his degree of M. D.
At twenty-three Agassiz was well-known in Europe, an author
and naturalist of national reputation, a position not accomplished
without great mental and physical effort; the details of which can-
not be given in a sketch so limited. It was now that Agassiz met
Cuvier and Von Humboldt, who both recognized the inherent
genius of the young man and aided him in every way possible.
Cuvier placed in his hands his notes on fishes, a signal honor.
Agassiz was delighted, but as his father had foreseen, the life of a
naturalist was not productive in a pecuniary sense, and in 1832
he possessed an income of but forty dollars a month, out of which
he paid his artist twenty-five, leaving him but fifteen dollars to
live upon. At this period, working fifteen hours a day, his only
regret appears to have been that he was so poor, that he did. not
have a suitable coat to wear when he presented letters of introduc-
tion. The severest privations did not sway or influence him from
his object which was to become the greatest teacher of science of
the day, and he even refused a salary of two hundred dollars per
annum from a journal, that desired him to edit a zoological section,
on the ground that he would be obliged to give up two hours a
day from his studies. Investigators in Psychology to-day will
find the following story of Agassiz of more or less interest. He
was working on a fish, which ultimately appeared in his Recherches
sur les Poissons Fossiles. One fish puzzled him; he could not
trace its characteristics. One night he dreamed he saw it worked
out in the rock; for two nights he had this dream, but in some
way, after the fashion of dreams, it evaded him when he awoke;
so on the third night he placed paper and pencil at his bedside.
Again he had the dream, and seizing the pencil he drew the out-
154 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
line roughly as it appeared. The following day he went to the
Jardin des Plantes, and there he cut away the stone of a fossil
fish, Cydopima spinosum and found the figure of his dream,
which is pictured in the above mentioned work, Vol. IV, tab. i,
p. 21.
With the death of Cuvier dark days fell upon Agassiz; he be-
came more and more impoverished, he was forced to relinquish
his artist and then, owing to complications which followed, he was
absolutely forced to face the possible abandonment of the career
he had laid out for himself. He even decided to return to his
native town and teach, to leave Paris and all its treasures, which
meant so much to the student. But Agassiz was a man of destiny,
and in this instance destiny may be translated to mean the logical
result of true and conscientious effort in a given direction. When
his fortunes were at the lowest ebb, out of a clear sky came a
letter from Von Humboldt inclosing a letter of credit for one thou-
sand francs. This was another stepping-stone in his career, and
from then on Humboldt became his friend and patron. Through
the author of Cosmos he secured a professorship at Neuchatel,
which while small, eighty louis per annum, was guaranteed for
three years. Baron Von Humboldt's letter to the college author-
ities contains the following: "He (Agassiz) is distinguished by his
talents, by the variety and substantial character of his attainments,
and by that which has a special value in these troubled times, his
natural sweetness of disposition."
Von Humboldt advanced Agassiz's interests as rapidly as pos-
sible, and in 1832 we find him a national figure as a professor deliv-
ering his first lecture "upon the relations between the different
branches of Natural History and the then prevailing tendencies of
all the sciences." It was at this period that Leopold Von Buch, the
famous geologist, said that he dreaded to knock at the door of Ag-
assiz of Neuchatel. "Why," asked a friend. "I fear that he will
take me for a new species," was the witty rejoinder, which spoke
volumes for Agassiz at the time. Agassiz, now about twenty-six
years of age, married the sister of his friend, Cecile Braun, and
honors came thick and fast and recognition from scientists all over
LOUIS AGASSIZ 155
the world. Agassiz was an international figure and as a teacher of
the sciences, he occupied a distinguished position. He now took
the Wollaston prize of seven hundred francs, a godsend as he had
expended his last cent in producing a volume of his splendid work,
Researches Among the Fossil Fishes, which was only finished in
1843, occupying ten years for its completion.
Agassiz now visited England and was enthusiastically received,
meeting Lyell, Murchison, Buckland, Egerton, Lord Coll, and
before these leaders of the day he demonstrated his marvelous
insight into the secrets of nature. At a meeting he was asked to
give his idea of a fish that might belong to a certain ancient geolog-
ical horizon. He of course had never seen such a fish nor did he
know that one had been found in this ancient stratum, but he
walked to the board and made a sketch of the fish as he thought
it would appear, a rousing cheer greeting his work. Then to his
amazement some one pulled aside a screen and showed the fossil
specimen. Agassiz had anticipated and figured it perfectly.
To such an extent said Dr. Stebbins "had this great scientist
advanced in a knowledge of the plan of God in nature." Agassiz
now became interested in glaciers and in the following years gave
the world his splendid works, opinions based on observation of
these marvelous phenomena of the Alps, and his work aroused
the greatest interest and discussion all over Europe and in scien-
tific centers of America. His views received criticism in many
quarters, but they prevailed and his masterly handling of the
subject made him still more famous, and in 1838, when thirty
years of age, he received the membership of the Royal Society of
London.
It is impossible to even mention the books and subjects which
Agassiz had in mind, during this and following years, in the limited
space of this paper. America, where he was destined to rise to the
highest pinnacle of his career as a great teacher of science, first
came seriously into his mind in 1842 when a trip was suggested
by the Prince of Canino. His books were contributions to science,
and their production was often a continual drain, keeping him
impoverished, but when an offer came from America for a course
156 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
of lectures, and the King of Prussia gave him fifteen thousand
francs for investigation, he decided to accept it, and in 1846 he
arrived in Boston and began his lectures on the "Plan of Crea-
tion." Agassiz was now thirty-nine years of age, in his prime, and
he made so strong an impression upon the people of the Republic
that they determined to keep him. American ideas appealed to
him. He was necessarily a lion and in constant demand, but
avoided publicity, declining invitations when he could, giving as a
reason that he was in the employ of the King of Prussia.
Many could not understand him, and a servant said he was a
"queer stick" spending his time at the fish markets, and the
market men thought he was "daft" as the fishes he preferred were
the ones the men generally threw away. The course of lectures at
the Lowell Institute was so successful that he began another on
Glaciers. The American idea was slowly but firmly taking posses-
sion of his heart and mind. He was captured by the hospitality
of the Americans. He says in writing to a friend :
"I am constantly asking myself which is better, our old
Europe where the man of exceptional gifts can give himself ab-
solutely to study, opening thus a wide horizon for the human
mind, while at his side thousands barely vegetate in degradation
or at least in destitution; or this new world where the institu-
tions tend to keep all on one level as part of the general mass,
but a mass, be it said, which has no noxious elements, yes, the
mass here is decidedly good. All the world lives well, is decently
clad, learns some things, is awake, is interested.
"Instruction does not, as in some parts of Germany for in-
stance, furnish a man with an intellectual book and then deny
him the use of it. The strength of America lies in the prodigious
number of individuals who think and work at the same time.
"It is a severe test of pretentious mediocrity, but I fear, it
may also efface originality."
To Milne Edwards he wrote,
" Naturalist as I am, I cannot but put the people first, the people
who opened this part of the American continent to European civ-
ilization. What a people! "
If the American people made an impression on Agassiz he cer-
LOUIS AGASSIZ 157
tainly made one upon them. At this time he was a splendid type
of manhood of noble presence. Enthusiasm beamed in every
glance, he had a benignant air, and was a notable figure, fascinat-
ing, magnetic, yet simple with all, a great leader along the paths
of his choice. Inducements were held out to Agassiz to remain in
America and he soon had many pupils and with his determination
to remain began a new epoch in American science.
In 1848 the King of Prussia gave him an honorable discharge
from his services, and Agassiz was offered the chair of the Amos
Lawrence Scientific School at Cambridge. So at the age of forty
he became a professor at Harvard University and joined the
charmed intellectual circle made up of Longfellow, Peirce, Fulton,
Asa Gray, Wyman, Channing, Holmes, Emerson, Whittier,
Ticknor, Motley, Lowell and other American immortals.
Agassiz now sent for his family, and soon his home was the
center of scientific interest. He impressed American men of science
by the thoroughness of his methods, the boldness of his theories,
and at once established new methods, new lines of thought and
became the greatest science teacher the world has ever seen. His
coming was epoch-making not only along the line of original in-
vestigation, but for the dissemination of knowledge among the
people. He established new methods. He began the Museum of
Comparative Zoology at Cambridge, and under his influence,
science took on new interests, a fresh impetus along many lines.
The Government offered him every facility for original investiga-
tion, and through the Coast Survey and other sources he began lines
of work which were far reaching, not to say revolutionary. He
made science popular in America by his lucid methods and the
charm of his engaging personality. New works were continually
coming from his hand, as years went on, and his bibliography as
published in the writer's Life or in the records of the Government
constitutes a monument of enduring fame, a stupendous record of
work, which in the main was a labor of love; the disinterested
labor of a lifetime devoted to science. Agassiz married a second
time in 1850, Elizabeth Graves Gary, a woman of superlative
gifts and many graces of character.
158 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Of her Arnold Guyot in his memoir of Agassiz in the National
Academy writes: " Her literary talents, to whom we owe the interest-
ing account of the Florida reefs and perhaps the final appearance
of more than one of his later works, are acknowledged by all.
Her deep and absolute devotion, her soothing influence secured
for him the peace of mind and heart so necessary for an undis-
turbed mental activity. To her also science owes a debt of
gratitude."
Agassiz was the same vigorous collector in America he had been
in Europe and had soon visited all sections of the country from the
Lake Superior copper regions, which he explored, to southern
Florida, and the Pacific coast. While on a trip with the coast
survey vessel he visited Charleston and was there offered a pro-
fessorship in the Medical College, it being a more remunerative
position than the one he held at liarvard. This he retained until
1853, ever hampered by the lack of adequate funds to carry on his
elaborate publications and explorations. He established with his
wife a school for young ladies in Boston in 1855, which became
one of the institutions of the region, and was continued for eight
years, materially aiding his work in the accumulation and knowl-
edge relating to marine zoology and its dissemination.
European nations, particularly France, never quite forgave
Agassiz for going to America, and continually offered him induce-
ments to return. The French Emperor tendered him a position
that probably no other living scientist, of France at least, would
have refused and in 1857 he was invited to take the chair of Paleon-
tology in the French Museum of Natural History, a position which
had been held by D'Orbigny, and despite his continued refusals
the Emperor conferred upon him the order of the Legion of
Honor. His reply was characteristic, he had become imbued with
American sentiments. "Were I offered absolute power for the
reorganization of the Jardin des Plantes with a revenue of fifty
thousand francs I should not accept it. I like my independence
better."
The idea of a great museum now filled his heart and mind, and
after many years' work, needless trials and struggles, the Museum
LOUIS AGASSIZ 159
of Comparative Zoology as it stands to-day was founded and
equipped on land provided by Harvard University and the state,
an institution which has grown and been added to by his distin-
guished son, Alexander Agassiz. The museum was dedicated in
1860, and the present writer for the pleasure of it made large and
extensive collections with Dr. J. B. Holder, late curator of Zoology
of the American Museum of Natural History, New York, on the
Florida reef for Agassiz at this time, forwarding them all during
the Civil War by every passing vessel, many of which were cap-
tured by the various Confederate cruisers, so failed to reach their
destination.
Agassiz's energy at this time was boundless, and he began a
series of elaborate volumes, ten in number, entitled Contribu-
tions to the Natural History of the United States, the expenses
of which were met by public subscription, and four of those
monumental works were completed before his death. The first
volume was completed on his fiftieth birthday, which was cele-
brated by his pupils, who serenaded him, giving at midnight the
grand Choral of Bach. The event was also emphasized by the
Saturday Club of which he was an honored member, at which
Longfellow read a poem entitled "The Fiftieth Birthday of Agas-
siz," Dr. Holmes says, "I cannot forget the delicate unusual way
in which he read his charming verses":
It was fifty years ago,
In the pleasant month of May,
In the beautiful Pays de Vaud,
A child in its cradle lay.
And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee,
Saying: ''Here is a story-book
Thy Father has written for thee."
"Come wander with me," she said,
"Into regions yet untrod,
And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God."
160 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
And he wandered away and away
With Nature, the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him night and day
The rhymes of the universe.
And wherever the way seemed long,
Or his heart began to fail,
She would sing a more wonderful song,
Or tell a more marvellous tale.
So she keeps him still a child,
And will not let him go,
Though at times his heart beats wild
For the beautiful Pays de Vaud;
Though at times he hears in his dreams
The Ranz des Vaches of old,
And the rush of mountain streams,
From glaciers clear and cold.
And the mother at home says, "Hark!
For his voice I listen and yearn;
It is growing late and dark,
And my boy does not return."
May 28, 1857.
The Saturday Club had a warm place in the affections of
Agassiz here he met the friends of his choice.
Dr. Wendell Holmes in referring to it said:
"At one end of the table sat Longfellow, placid, quiet, benig-
nant, soft-voiced, a most agreeable rather than a brilliant talker,
but a man upon whom it was always pleasant to look, whose
silence was better than many another man's conversation. At
the other end sat Agassiz, robust, sanguine, animated, full of talk,
boy-like in his laughter. The stranger who should have asked
who were the men arranged along the sides of the table would
have heard in answer the names of Hawthorne, Motley, Dana,
Lowell, Whipple, Peirce, the distinguished mathematician, Judge
Hoar, eminent at the bar and in the cabinet, Dwight the lead-
LOUIS AGASSIZ 161
ing musical critic of Boston for a whole generation, Sumner the
academic champion of freedom, Andrew, ' the great war governor '
of Massachusetts, Dr. Howe, the philanthropist, William Hunt,
the painter, with others not unworthy of such company."
Among the many experiences of Agassiz was being taken for a
harmless lunatic by some country men when on a trip through
New Hampshire. With some friends he collected insects and
pinned them to his hat and coat. Some one asked the driver of
the coach who the men were who acted so strangely, and he re-
plied, " Their keeper says they are naturals, and I should say
they was." The trip of Agassiz to Brazil was one of his great
explorations, which lack of space will not permit reviewing. He
followed this in 1869 with a cruise on the Hassler to the coast of
Cuba, and during all these years his days, hours and moments
were filled with labors of the most exhaustive kind. In 1871, he
made a trip around the Horn to San Francisco in the Bibb, and in
1872 we find him again working upon the plan for a great marine
laboratory and school which finally took shape, due to the gift of
John Anderson of New York, who gave the island of Penikese for
the purpose and the sum of fifty thousand dollars for equipment.
Many of the leading naturalists of to-day were students of Agassiz
here, and to Dr. David Starr Jordan, President of Stanford
University, the writer is indebted to the following memories of
days with the greatest teacher of science the world has ever pro-
duced:
"Penikese is a little island containing about sixty acres of very
rocky ground, a pile of stones, with intervals of soil. It is the last
and least of the Elizabeth Islands, lying to the south of Buzzards
Bay, on the south coast of Massachusetts. The whole cluster was
once a great terminal moraine of rocks and rubbish of all sorts,
brought down from the mainland by some ancient glacier, and
by it dropped off into the ocean off the heel of Cape Cod. The
sea has broken up the moraine into eight little islands by wearing
tide channels between hill and hill. The names of these islands
are recorded in the jingle which the children of that region learn
before they go to school:
162 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
Naushon, Nonamesset,
Uncatena, and Wepecket,
Nashawena, Pesquinese,
Cuttyhunk, and Penikese.
" And Penikese, least and smallest of them, lies, a little forgotten
speck, out in the ocean, eighteen miles south of New Bedford. It
contains two hills, joined together by a narrow isthmus, a little
harbor, a farm-house, a flagstaff, a barn, a willow tree, and a
flock of sheep. And here Agassiz founded his school. This was
in the month of June in the year 1873.
" From the many hundred applicants who sent in their names as
soon as the school was made public Agassiz chose fifty, thirty
men and twenty women, teachers, students, and naturalists of
various grades from all parts of the country. This practical recog-
nition of co-education was criticized by many of Agassiz's friends,
trained in the monastic schools of New England, but the results
soon justified the decision. These fifty teachers should be trained
as far as he could train them in right methods of work. They
should carry into his schools his views of scientific teaching. Then
each of these schools would become in its time a center of help to
others, until the influence toward real work in science should
spread throughout our educational system.
" None of us will ever forget his first sight of Agassiz. We had
come down from New Bedford, in a little tugboat in the early
morning and Agassiz met us at the landing-place on the island. He
was standing almost alone on the little wharf, and his great face
beamed with pleasure. For this summer school, the thought of
his old age, might be the crowning work of his lifetime. Who
could forsee what might come from the efforts of fifty men and
women, teachers of science, each striving to do his work in the
best possible way? His thoughts and hopes rose to expectations
higher than any of us then understood. His tall, robust figure,
broad shoulders bending a little under the weight of years, his
large round face lit up by kindly dark-brown eyes, his cheery
smile, the enthusiastic tones of his voice, all these entered into our
first as well a our last impressions of Agassiz. He greeted us
LOUIS AGASSIZ 163
with great warmth as we landed. He looked into our faces to
justify himself in making choice of us among the many whom he
might have chosen. Among the students in the school at Penikese,
who come to my mind as I write, are Dr. Charles O. Whitman,
now of the University of Chicago; Dr. William K. Brooks, of
Johns Hopkins; Dr. Frank H. Snow, afterwards Chancellor of the
University of Kansas; Dr. W. O. Crosby, of the Boston Society
of Natural History, then a boy from Colorado interested in rocks
and minerals; Samuel Garman, Walter Faxon, Walter Fewkes,
and Charles Sedgwick Minot, all of them still connected with the
work at Cambridge; Ernest Ingersoll, then just beginning his
literary work; Professor J. G. Scott, of the Normal School at
Westfield; Professor Stowell, of the school at Cortland; Professor
Apgar, of Trenton, N. J.; Professor Fernald, of Maine; Miss
Susan Hallowell, of Wellesley College; Miss Mary Beaman
(Mrs. Joralemon); Mr. E. A. Gastman, of Illinois; and other
well-known instructors. With these was the veteran teacher of
botany at Mount Holyoke Seminary, Miss Lydia W. Shattuck,
with her pupil and associate, Miss Susan Bowen. Professor H. H.
Straight and his bride, both then teachers in the State Normal
School at Oswego, were also with us. These four, whom all of us
loved and respected, were the first of our number to be claimed by
death.
" Among our teachers, besides Agassiz, were Burt G. Wilder,
Edward S. Morse, Alfred Mayor, Frederick Guyot and Count
Pourtales, early associates of Agassiz, already in the fullness of
years. Mrs. Agassiz was present at every lecture, note-book in
hand, and her genial personality did much to bind the company
together.
" The old barn on the island had been hastily converted into a
dining-hall and lecture-room. A new floor had been put in, but
the doors and walls remained unchanged, and the swallows'
nests were undisturbed under the eaves. The sheep had been
turned out, the horse stalls were changed to a kitchen, and on the
floor of the barn instead of the hay-wagon, were placed three long
tables. At the head of one of these sat Agassiz. At his right hand
164 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
always stood a movable blackboard, for he seldom spoke without
a piece of chalk in his hand. He would often give us a lecture
while he sat at the table, frequently about some fish or other crea-
ture, the remains of which still lay beside our plates.
" Our second day upon the island was memorable above all the
others. Its striking incident has passed into literature in the poem
of Whittier, 'The Prayer of Agassiz.'
" When the morning meal was over, Agassiz arose in his place
and spoke, as only he could speak, of his purpose of calling us
together. The swallows flew in and out of the building in the soft
June air, for they did not know that it was no longer a barn but a
temple. Some of them almost grazed his shoulder as he spoke
to us of the needs of the people for better education. He told us
how these needs could be met, and of the results which might come
to America from the training and consecration of fifty teachers.
" This was to him no ordinary school, still less an idle summer's
outing, but a mission work of the greatest importance. He spoke
with intense earnestness, and all his words were filled with that
deep religious feeling so characteristic of all his thoughts. For
to Agassiz each natural object was a thought of God, and trifling
with God's truth as expressed in Nature was the basest of sacrilege.
" What Agassiz said that morning can never be said again. No
reporter took his language, and no one could call back the charm
of his manner or the impressiveness of his zeal and faith.
11 At the end he said, 'I would not have any man to pray for me
now/ and that he and each of us would utter his own prayer in
silence. What he meant by this was that no one could pray in
his stead. No public prayer could take the place of the prayer
which each of us would frame for himself. Whittier says:
On the isle of Penikese,
Ringed about by sapphire seas,
Fanned by breezes salt and cool,
Stood the Master with his school.
*******
Said the Master to the youth:
"We have come in search of truth,
LOUIS AGASSIZ 165
Trying with uncertain key
Door by door of mystery;
We are reaching, through His laws,
To the garment-hem of Cause
Him, the endless, unbegun,
The Unnamable, the One
Light of all our light the Source,
Life of life, and Force of force.
As with fingers of the blind,
We are groping here to find
What the hieroglyphics mean
Of the Unseen in the seen,
What the thought which underlies
Nature's masking and disguise,
What it is that hides beneath
Blight and bloom and birth and death.
By past efforts unavailing,
Doubt and error, loss and failing,
Of our weakness made aware,
On the threshold of our task
Let us light and guidance ask,
Let us pause in silent prayer!"
* * . * * * * *
Even the careless heart was moved,
And the doubting gave assent
With a gesture reverent,
To the Master well beloved.
As thin mists are glorified
By the light they cannot hide,
All who gazed upon him saw,
Through its vail of tender awe,
How his face was still uplit
By the old sweet look of it,
Hopeful, trustful, full of cheer,
And the love that casts out fear.
" And the summer went on with its succession of joyous morn-
ings, beautiful days, and calm nights, with every charm of sea and
1 66 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
sky, the master with us all day long, ever ready to speak words of
help and encouragement, ever ready to give us from his own stock
of learning. The boundless enthusiasm which surrounded him
like an atmosphere, and which sometimes gave the appearance of
great achievement to the commonest things, was never lacking.
" Essentially Latin in his nature, he was always picturesque in
his words and his work. He delighted in the love and approbation
of his students and his friends, and the influence of his personality
sometimes gave his opinions weight beyond the value of the inves-
tigations on which they were based. With no other investigator
have the work and the man been so identified as with Agassiz. No
other of the great workers has been equally great as a teacher.
His greatest work in science was his influence on other men.
" In an old note-book of those days " continues Doctor Jordan,
" I find fragments of some of his talks to teachers at Penikese.
From this note-book I take some paragraphs, just as I find them
written there:
" ' Never try to teach what you do not know yourself and know
well. If your school board insist on your teaching anything and
everything, decline firmly to do it. It is an imposition alike on
pupils and teacher to teach that which he does not know. Those
teachers who are strong enough should squarely refuse to do such
work. This much needed reform is already beginning in our
colleges, and I hope it will continue. It is a relic of mediaeval
times, this idea of professing everything. When teachers begin
to decline work which they cannot do well, improvements begin to
come in. If one will be a successful teacher, he must firmly re-
fuse work which he cannot do successfully.'
" 'It is a false idea to suppose that everybody is competent to
learn or to teach everything. Would our great artists have suc-
ceeded equally well in Greek or Calculus? A smattering of every-
thing is worth little. It is a fallacy to suppose that an encyclopedic
knowledge is desirable. The mind is made strong not through
much learning, but by the thorough possession of something.'
" 'Lay aside all conceit. Learn to read the book of nature for
yourself. Those who have succeeded best have followed for years
some slim thread which has once in a while broadened out and
disclosed some treasure worth a life-long search.'
" 'A man cannot be Professor of Zoology on one day and of
LOUIS AGASSIZ 167
chemistry on the next, and do good work in both. As in a concert,
all are musicians one plays one instrument, and one another, but
none all in perfection.'
" 'You cannot do without one specialty. You must have some
base line to measure the work, and attainments of others. For
a general view of the subject, study the history of the sciences.
Broad knowledge of all Nature has been the possession of no
naturalist except Humboldt, and general relations constituted his
specialty.'
" 'Select such subjects that your pupils cannot walk without see-
ing them. Train your pupils to be observers, and have them
provided with the specimens about which you speak. If you can
find nothing better, take a house fly or cricket, and let each one
hold a specimen and examine it as you talk.'
" 'In 1847 I gave an address at Newton, Mass., before a Teach-
ers' Institute conducted by Horace Mann. My subject was
grasshoppers. I passed around a large jar of these insects, and
made every teacher take one and hold it while I was speaking.
If any one dropped the insect, I stopped until he picked it up.
This was at that time a great innovation, and excited much
laughter and derision. There can be no true progress in the
teaching of natural science until such methods become general.'
" 'There is no part of the country where in the summer you can-
not get a sufficient supply of the best specimens. Teach your
children to bring them in themselves. Take your text from the
brooks, not from the booksellers. It is better to have a few forms
well known, than to teach a little about many hundred species.
Better a dozen specimens thoroughly studied as the result of the
first year's work, than to have two thousand dollars worth of shells
and corals bought from a curiosity shop. The dozen animals would
be your own.'
" 'You 1 will find the same elements of instruction all about you
wherever you may be teaching. You can take your classes out
and give them the same lessons, and lead them up to the same
subjects you are yourselves studying here. And this method of
teaching children is so natural, so suggestive, so true. That is
the charm of teaching from Nature herself. No one can warp
her to suit his own views. She brings us back to absolute truth
as often as we wander.'
" 'The study of Nature is an intercourse with the highest mind.
1 In this paragraph, quoted by Mrs. Agassiz (Life and Letters of Agassiz,
p. 775) I have adopted the wording as given by her.
1 68 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
You should never trifle with Nature. At the lowest her works
are the works of the highest powers, the highest something in
whatever way we may look at it.'
" 'A laboratory of Natural History is a sanctuary where nothing
profane should be tolerated. I feel less agony at improprieties
in churches than in a scientific laboratory.'
" 'In Europe I have been accused of taking my scientific ideas
from the church. In America I have been called a heretic because
I will not let my church-going friends pat me on the head.'
" Of all these lectures the most valuable and the most charming
were those on the glaciers. In these the master spoke, and every
rock on our island was a mute witness to the truth of his words.
" He often talked to us of the Darwinian theory, to which in all
its forms he was most earnestly opposed. Agassiz was essentially
an idealist. All of his investigations were to him not studies of
animals or plants as such, but of the divine plans of which their
structures are the expression. 'That earthly form was the cover
of spirit was to him a truth at once fundamental and self-evident.'
The work of the student was to search out the thoughts of God,
and as well as may be to think them over again. To Agassiz
these divine thoughts were especially embodied in the relations
of animals to each other. The species was the thought-mind at
the moment of the creation of the first one of the series which repre-
sents the species. The marvel of the affinity of structure, of unity
of plan in creatures widely diverse in habits and outward appear-
ances, was to him a result of the association of ideas in the divine
mind, an illustration of divine many-sidedness. To Darwin these
same relations would illustrate the force of heredity acting under
diverse conditions of environment.
" Agassiz had no sympathy with the prejudices worked upon by
weak and foolish men in opposition to Darwinism. He believed
in the absolute freedom of science; that no power on earth can give
answers beforehand to the questions which men of science en-
deavor to solve. Of this I can give no better evidence than the
fact that every one of the men specially trained by him has joined
the ranks of the evolutionists. He would teach them to think for
themselves, not to think as he did."
LOUIS AGASSIZ 169
No one can contemplate the character of Agassiz, without
realizing its nobility, its strength, its sweetness and his joyous
nature. He was notably a Christian in"all the term implies. He
held to trTe"'5elief in an aU-2dse-lreator. He was the great theistic
philosopher of his ^fay f\pd f JTC_ Nature was to him so much*
evidence of an enduring mind, a divine intelligence.
In his essay on classification he says: "All the facts proclaim
aloud the one God whom we know, adore, and love, and Natural
History must in good time become the analysis of the thoughts
of the creator of the Universe as manifested in the animal and
vegetable kingdoms."
Holding such views it is not surprising that Agassiz opposed
Darwin and it may be said that he led the anti-Darwin forces; a
controversy which was waged all over the civilized world, at one
time. Agassiz held out to the last, but it is interesting to note
that his pupils, I believe with few, if any exception, went over to
the forces of evolution, as understood at the time. The views of
Agassiz did not mitigate against him as a scientist. The question
of a divinity or no divinity, is beyond the pale of science, is not a
scientific question, is not susceptible to argument from the stand-
point of science, and the influence of Agassiz, as a great teacher,
as a dominant educational force and factor stood, stands to-day
unimpaired. His appearance in America was the beginning of a
new era, was a scientific renaissance and his beneficent influence
radiated around the world like the ripples from a pebble dropped
upon the serene and glass-like surface of a pool. In 1873, Agassiz,
the colossus of workers, Agassiz who had been warned years
before by Von Humboldt that the intense work he was doing
" kills," began to break down.
"I want rest," he said, "I am ready to go; I am tired; but I
will work while I live, while I have strength I will labor," and
here was the secret of his success, of all success, in life. And so
he passed on; a good and faithful servant who found eternal rest
on December 14, 1873. No man has a greater or more endur-
ing monument than he. His influence, his works rise, a pillar
of Hercules that will stand potent ; virile so long as time lasts.
AV ^^^vw>v/vs.
JEFFRIES WYMAN
ANATOMIST
1814-1874
BY BURT G. WILDER
AMONG those in whose honor this series has been prepared
probably no one is less generally known than Jeffries Wyman. He
never published a book, rarely a magazine article or newpaper
communication. He seldom spoke in public or upon other than
strictly scientific topics. He never claimed credit or took part in
a controversy. Yet for nearly half a century he was devoted to
the increase and diffusion of knowledge. His discoveries were
numerous and important, some almost startling. He aided the
determination of momentous issues. His writings were models
of clearness and conciseness. His teaching was admirable and
highly appreciated. His museum was unique. In his special
branches his authority was recognized the world over. Confidence
in him was absolute; and rarely has any man gained from friends
and pupils an affection so deep, sincere and enduring. At his
death the governing body of the institution with which, as pupil
or officer, he had been connected for three-fourths of his life,
voiced the sentiments of all who knew him in terms appropriately
simple and direct:
"The President and Fellows of Harvard University recall with
affectionate respect and admiration the sagacity, patience and
rectitude which characterized all his scientific work ; his clearness,
accuracy and conciseness as a writer and teacher; and the industry
and zeal with which he labored upon the two admirable collec-
tions which remain as monuments of his rare knowledge, method
and skill. They commend to the young men of the University
171
172 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
this signal example of a character modest, tranquil, dignified and
independent, and of a life simple, contented and honored."
The father of Jeffries Wyman was Dr. Rufus Wyman, born in
Woburn, Mass., and graduated at Harvard in 1799; he studied
medicine under Dr. John Jeffries of Boston, and during the
latter part of his life was physician to the McLean Asylum for the
Insane; in this, the earliest institution of the kind in New England,
Dr. Wyman had the wisdom, the courage and the power to intro-
duce radical improvements in the care and treatment of mental
defectives. His wife was Ann, daughter of James Morrill, a
Boston merchant; this family name was continued in the baptis-
mal name of the second son, Dr. Morrill Wyman, of Cambridge,
who was held in the highest honor and affection until his death,
January 3oth, 1903. l
1 For the family history, for the earlier life of Professor Wyman, for various
information, and for a revision of the completed manuscript I am indebted to
Professor Wyman's daughters, Miss Susan and Miss Mary Morrill Wyman;
to the only son, who inherited his father's name and has transmitted it to his
son; and to Dr. Henry P. Walcott, a connection of Professor Wyman by mar-
riage. Aid has been received also from Mr. Glover Morrill Allen, a relative of
Professor Wyman; from President Charles W. Eliot; from Professors Thomas
D wight and James C. White of the Harvard Medical School; from Dr.
Francis H. Brown and other pupils of Professor Wyman; and from Mr. Allen
Danforth, Comptroller of Harvard University. A friend and former teacher
discovered in the Boston papers of the period announcements and notices of
Wyman's Lowell Institute lectures and abstracts of some communications to
the Natural History Society, presumably sent by its secretary. There have
been consulted the memoirs or articles by Asa Gray (Address at the Memorial
Meeting of the Boston Society of Natural History, October yth, 1874, re-
printed from the Proceedings, vol. 17, pp. 96-124; also his Remarks, as Cura-
tor, pro tempore, of the Peabody Museum of American Archaeology and Eth-
nology, in the Eighth Annual Report, presented April 8th, 1875 (Reports,
vol. i, pp. 7-11, with portrait); by Oliver Wendell Holmes (Boston Daily
Advertiser, September i2th, 1874, and, at greater length, under the title,
"A Memorial Outline," the Atlantic Monthly, November, 1874, pp. 611-
623); by S. Weir Mitchell (under the title, "The Scientific Life," Lippincott's
Magazine, March, 1875, pp. 352-356); by Alpheus S. Packard (reprinted
from Biographical Memoirs of the National Academy of Sciences, vol. 2,
1886, pp. 77-126); it was read April iSth, 1878, and contains a Bibliography
JEFFRIES WYMAN 173
Jeffries was the third son and was named for his father's medi-
cal preceptor. He was born at Chelmsford, near Lowell, Mass.,
August n, 1814. His early education was received at a school
in Charlestown, kept by Horatio Gates. Of this period, while
he was between seven and ten years old, there is preserved a record
consisting of weekly entries in a little book dated from October
2oth, 1821, to March 27th, 1824. The first entry is "Studies very
well"; the last, "Is a good boy." Between are "A fine little fel-
low"; "at the head of his class," etc. Later he attended the
Academy at Chelmsford and prepared for college under Dr.
Benjamin Abbott. He entered Harvard in 1829, the first year of
the presidency of Josiah Quincy, and was graduated in due course;
of the fifty- three members of the class of 1833 six, including
Wyman, became professors in their alma mater.
In the spring of his senior year, Wyman had a dangerous attack
of pneumonia which, says Dr. Holmes, "seems to have laid the
foundation of the pulmonary affection that kept him an invalid
and ended by causing his death." To recover from the effects
of this attack he passed the following winter in Georgia and South
Carolina. This flight southward at the approach of winter was
the precursor of many others by which his life was undoubtedly
prolonged.
His interest in natural objects was early manifested. When less
than ten years old he spent his holidays largely along the banks
of Wyman's writings which, although marred by errors and omissions, was
reproduced in the volume, Animal Mechanics, (articles by Sir Charles
Bell and Jeffries Wyman, edited, with portrait, by Morrill Wyman in 1902);
by Frederick W. Putnam (Report of the Council [on Deceased Members] in
Proceedings of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, n. s., vol. 10,
l8 75> PP- 496-505, including a Bibliography). Wyman's relations with the
Lowell Institute, as Curator and Lecturer, are stated, with a portrait, in the
History of the Lowell Institute, by Miss Harriette Knight Smith, 1898,
p. 18. From September, 1859, to J u ty> l862 I was a pupil of Professor
Wyman, and acted as his unofficial assistant during the latter half of the
period; my recollections are very distinct; of the third year I have a Diary,
and I have preserved all his letters, more than thirty in number. My previous
tributes were published in Old and New, November, 1874, pp. 533-544, and
in the Popular Science Monthly, January, 1875, pp. 355-360, with a portrait.
174 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
of rivers and creeks, and nearly always returned with some speci-
men, living or dead. In college the same preference continued,
and he made many dissections, especially one of a mammoth
bullfrog, once an inhabitant of Fresh Pond, which was an object
of great interest to his classmates. 1
Early, too, were displayed the taste and talent for drawing that
proved so helpful in later years. With little instruction, he copied
Hogarth's picture of the politician who was so absorbed in his
paper that his hat caught fire from the candle. When ten or
twelve years old he executed upon a panel, with house-paints, a
portrait of himself; the likeness was recognizable, but the tints
were imperfect, the hair being colored green !
While at the Phillips Exeter Academy the impression made by
young Wyman upon his fellow-pupils is recorded in a letter to Dr.
Holmes from his classmate, Professor Bowen:
"He was pure-minded, frank, playful, happy, careless, not
studious, at least in his school-books, but not mischievous. He
would take long rambles in the woods and go a-fishing, and draw
funny outline sketches in his school-books, and whittle out gim-
cracks with his pen-knife, and pitch stones or a ball farther and
higher than any boy in the academy, when he ought to have been
studying his lessons. Only a few years ago, when we were chat-
ting together about our early life at Exeter and in college, he said,
in his frank and simple way, with a laugh and half a sigh, 'Bowen,
I made a great mistake in so neglecting distasteful duties, though
you may think I made up for it by following the bent of my in-
clinations for catching and dissecting bullfrogs. I have been
obliged, even of late years, to study hard on some subjects dis-
tinct from and yet collateral with my especial pursuits which I
ought to have mastered in my boyhood." 2
iThis may be the "Skeleton of a frog, North America," numbered 1335
in his manuscript catalogue of the specimens now at the Boston Society of
Natural History.
2 According to the college records, in his senior year Wyman stood No. 50
in a class of fifty-three; let no budding anatomist, however, expect to achieve
scientific eminence by contenting himself with a corresponding rank; some of
the earlier pupils of Agassiz were none the wiser for their imitation of his ex-
cessive smoking at a certain period.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 175
It does not appear that young Wyman had any special prefer-
ence for the practice of medicine; he was emphatically a born
naturalist. But at that period naturalists, as a class, hardly ex-
isted; the very word, as in the well-known anecdote of Agassiz
and his colleagues in the White Mountains, was in danger of
interpretation as equivalent to "naturals." The lecture-room and
the illustrated magazine had not then become familiar mediums
for scientific instruction and personal income. With few excep-
tions the naturalists of the time were practitioners; their vocation
was medicine; science was merely an avocation. At all events
Wyman could see no means of gratifying his natural history tastes
other than by joining his father's profession. Soon after his
graduation, in 1833, he entered the Harvard Medical School, and
pursued his studies, partly with his father and partly with Dr.
John C. Dalton, father of the distinguished physiologist of the
same name.
In the spring of 1837, he received the degree of M. D., presenting
a graduation thesis, entitled "De oculo," with drawings. This
was never printed; but soon afterward (September, 1837) he
published in The Boston Medical and Surgical Journal his first
paper, " On the Indistinctness of Images Formed by Oblique Rays
of Light," a physiologic essay for which his anatomic thesis con-
stituted a natural foundation.
Soon after graduation he opened an office in Boston on Howard
Street (not Harvard or Washington, as sometimes stated). What
practice he had is not known; we may be assured that he pre-
pared for it diligently, awaited it patiently, and attended to it faith-
fully. He was soon appointed demonstrator of anatomy at the
medical college under Dr. John C. Warren. It is the duty of the
demonstrator to aid the lecturer by making in advance the dis-
sections and preparations needed to illustrate the exposition of the
structure of an organ or region ; for this office Wyman was particu-
larly well equipped, and he held it for two years. In July, 1838,
he also received a temporary appointment as assistant physician
at the Massachusetts General Hospital. 1
1 To replace Dr. J. B. S. Jackson who was himself performing the duties in
176 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
The compensation as demonstrator was slight and Wyman
felt that his father had already done enough in educating his sons.
He lived within his means, but there is no reason to think that his
health, strength or efficiency was impaired by undue frugality. As
was the custom in those days of a volunteer fire-department, he
accepted from Samuel A. Eliot, Mayor, an appointment dated
September i, 1838, and was assigned to Engine No. 18. The rule
was that the first comer to the engine-house should bear the lan-
tern and be absolved from other work ; Wyman lived near by and
his promptitude generally saved him from all severe labor than
that of enlightening his company.
During this period there was offered a really extraordinary oppor-
tunity for usefulness and self-support. In 1839, by the bequest
of John Lowell, Jr., there had been founded in Boston the Lowell
Institute. This provided for the delivery, each winter, of several
courses upon various subjects by lecturers invited from all parts
of the civilized world. It has thus not only instructed the public
but also proved an incentive and an aid to the advancement of
knowledge. The first trustee, John Amory Lowell, appointed
Wyman as curator at $500 per annum. He held the office for
three years, and during the second (1840-41), gave a course upon
Comparative Anatomy which proved so attractive that its repeti-
tion was demanded. 1 For the lectures the compensation was
liberal (and has since been increased) ; with the funds thus earned
by his first essay in teaching others he went abroad to seek further
instruction for himself.
He reached Paris in May, 1841. Although Cuvier had then
the absence of Dr. Henry I. Bowditch. There is no evidence that Jeffries
Wyman served as house-physician during his medical course.
1 The Boston Evening Transcript of December 3, 1840, and January 12,
1841, has somewhat extended notices of the opening and closing lectures of
this course. While regarding his manner and delivery as perhaps too quiet
they recognize that "he was a perfect master of the subject and indefatigable
in his efforts to disseminate among his hearers that ardent love of science
which is so manifest in himself. The drawings (the work of the lecturer him-
self) were spirited and conspicuous, very well executed, and precisely of the
kind wanted for illustration to a popular audience."
JEFFRIES WYMAN 177
been dead nearly twelve years that city was still the center of
biologic science. Wyman attended the lectures of Flourens,
Longet and Majendie on Physiology, and those of de Blainville,
Dumeril, Milne-Edwards, St. Hilaire and Valenciennes on
Zoology and Comparative Anatomy. In the summer of 1842,
after the lectures were over, he made pedestrian tours along the
Loire and the Rhine, returned through Belgium and then went
to London. There, while studying the Hunterian collections at
the Royal College of Surgeons, he learned that his father was
alarmingly ill; he departed as soon as practicable but, to his in-
tense grief, arrived too late to see his beloved parent alive.
After his return to Boston he wrote for Silliman's Journal
(American Journal of Science and Arts) reviews of three widely
different publications, viz., DeKay's Zoology of New York,
Vogt's Embryologie des Salmones, and Agassiz's Monographies
d'Echinoderms, mvans et fossiles. 1 These, and the two that
appeared in the same journal twenty years later of Weir-Mitchell
and Morehouse's Respiration of Turtles and Owen's Monograph
of the Aye- Aye, are apparently his only reviews; it may be inferred
that he did not prefer the attitude of critical commentator.
Congenial occupation was offered in 1843 by his appointment
as professor of anatomy and physiology in the medical depart-
ment of the Hampton-Sidney College at Richmond, Virginia; this
involved his absence from Boston only in the winter and spring,
when the milder climate was advantageous.
In 1847, upon the death of Dr. J. C. Warren, the instruction
in anatomy and physiology at the Harvard Medical School in
Boston was intrusted to Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes (who was
an accomplished anatomist as well as poet and writer); his was
the Parkman professorship, named in honor of Dr. George Park-
man. At the same time, Wyman, then thirty-three years old, was
i The monographs of his future colleague were characterized as follows:
"They constitute one of the most important additions which have been made
to modern zoology, no less in consequence of the completeness of the plan
upon which they have been conceived than the fidelity with which they have
been executed."
178 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
appointed Hersey Professor of Anatomy in the Lawrence Scientific
School, a part of Harvard College in Cambridge. 1 Wyman made
the single word, anatomy, cover Embryology and Comparative
Physiology, both with reference to Vertebrates rather than Inver-
tebrates. They thus became complementary to the courses of
Agassiz (appointed at about the same time) on Geology and Paleon-
tology, and on Zoology with more special reference to the Inverte-
brates. In this connection it may be added that while the title of
the likewise newly established chair of Asa Gray was the compre-
hensive one of Natural History, his instruction was practically
confined to Botany.
Upon the subjects above named Wyman gave two courses of
lectures. His enforced migration southward in midwinter threw
the courses into the fall and spring. During my pupilage, 1859-62,
Wyman's lectures constituted a senior elective. The limited time
allowed, and the lack of preparation of his hearers, did not permit
him to offer a complete exposition of any one topic. But every
word told. He spoke from notes, which were yearly revised and
rewritten so as to embody the latest information. 2
The writer heard both courses three times, and feels that he
profited more by the last than by the first. Wyman had many
and accurate diagrams, made by himself; and they were always
carefully arranged before each lecture. His use of specimens
for illustration was really profuse, notwithstanding the fact,
which he greatly lamented, that the museum was on the floor
above the lecture-room, involving a laborious and perilous trans-
fer by the stairs or by a sort of dumb-waiter. At that period
1 The fund for this chair represented the consolidation of bequests made
successively between 1772 and 1812 by Ezekiel Hersey, Sarah Derby, John
Gumming, Abner Hersey, and Esther Sprague. During Wyman's incum-
bency the income varied from $827.39 to $1,375.85, but in the earlier years
it was not all paid to him.
2 Among the interesting documents preserved by his family is a set of his
"Notes." The sheets measure 19 cm. by 16.5 (7.5 by 5.5 in.); the paper cover
bears at the left margin, "1849, Comp. Physiology;" the complete title is:
"Harvard University. Lectures on Comparative Physiology in the Scientific
School (April ii to June 18), 2d term, 1849. J- Wyman, Hersey Prof."
JEFFRIES WYMAN 179
experimental physiology had made little progress in this country,
but Wyman devised some most ingenious and effective pieces of
apparatus, which he too modestly called " dodges"; among these
was one for the demonstration of ciliary movement. 1 In a letter
criticizing a recently issued text-book of physiology for the lack
of experimental detail, he adds, " Everything that can be rein-
forced by experiment should be." Yet I never knew him inflict
needless pain upon any creature.
He used the blackboard perhaps less readily and picturesquely
than Agassiz, but with more care and accuracy and with great
effect. He did not look constantly at his audfcnr^ ? nd he never
spoke forapplause. iiis hearers respected his wish that the only
expression^ oi approval should be perfect silence and attention;
but occasionally a quiet smile would usher in some quaint illustra-
tion of his subject, and embolden the audience to a subdued dem-
onstration. At the close, he always remained for an hour, explain-
ing specimens, and discussing questions with interested students.
With the Boston Society of Natural History he was identified
during almost his whole scientific life. Joining in October, 1837,
he early served as secretary and as curator of several departments.
At the annual meeting, May 17, 1843, a * ^ ne a e f twenty-
nine, he delivered an address which is thus mentioned in the
Proceedings, vol. i, p. 116:
"Then followed the Annual Address, from Dr. J. Wyman, a
learned and interesting discourse on the progress of science in
the various branches of Natural History during the past year.
At the close of the address it was voted ' That the thanks of the
Society be presented to Dr. Jeffries Wyman, for his interesting
and instructive address, and that a copy be requested for publi-
cation.' " 2
Elected President in 1856, he at first declined, holding that he
1 In a letter of November 25th, 1869, feeling that it would be useful in my
own instruction, he devotes to it two pages and a diagram; it was not pub-
lished until 1871.
2 There is no evidence that the address was ever published; the manuscript
is in possession of his daughter. It will be noted that this was not the presi-
dential address; to that office he was chosen thirteen years later.
180 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
could be more useful as merely a member. Prevailed upon to
accept, he was retained in the office, in spite of repeated resigna-
tions, until his connection with the Peabody Museum of Archae-
ology and his temporary absence in Europe forced the society to
relieve him in 1870. He almost invariably attended the meetings,
and almost as invariably had something interesting to communi-
cate; but he always waited until others had spoken.
Under his administration, the society prospered in every way.
The membership increased; the collections were enlarged and
displayed; a new building was erected with funds partly given by
a friend of his; l public lectures were delivered; and the value of
the society to the community and to science was brought to the
highest point. Some idea of the extent of his activity may be
gained from the fact, that, during the ten years from 1860 to 1870,
the titles of his communications are about fifty in number, some
of them being elaborate and extended papers. Among the rest
is a loving memorial of his friend Dr. A. A. Gould, many passages
of which might now be applied to himself.
Wyman was a member of the American Academy of Arts and
Sciences 2 (in Boston), but attended its meetings less constantly
than those of the Natural History Society. Of the National
Academy of Sciences he was named one of the original members
in 1863. He does not appear to have attended the meetings as
his name is absent from the rolls in 1865-70, but in 1871 it is
included among the Honorary Members; in the following year it
was "transferred to the list of Active Members."
Wyman was one of the administrative "Faculty" of the Museum
of Comparative Zo5logy from the date of its formation; and his
relations with its founder were always of the most cordial nature,
however they might differ upon some questions. 3 He recognized
1 Dr. William J. Walker.
2 The Memoirs of this Academy, vol. 9, 1867, contain one of Wyman's
most important papers, "On the Development of Raia batis" (a ray or
skate), and his "Notes on the Cells of the Bee" was printed in the Pro-
ceedings, vol. 7, 1868.
3 As to Evolution, see the extracts on p. 193.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 181
and admired the powers of his zob'logic colleague; and Agassiz,
for his part, never tired of praising Wyman, and of advising his
students to attend his lectures; his good opinion of the teacher
was tranf erred to the pupils of the latter; and indeed, in all ana-
tomical and medical circles Wyman's name was a passport to
favor and opportunity. 1
From personal participation in the Civil War Wyman was
excluded by his age and health; but his lively interest in it was
practically shown in various ways and is evinced by the following
extracts from letters dated, respectively, August 20, 1862, Decem-
ber 21, 1862, May 8, 1863, May 26, 1864, and January 15, 1865:
"Knowing how many there are connected with the hospitals
who shirk their duties ... I do not know when you and Adams
(see p. 201, note) will have a better chance to do good than that
now at your disposal." "The weather here is severely cold, and
if such prevails on the Potomac the sufferings of the soldiers must
be fearful." "I presume you will have enough to do for the
present to take care of the wounded from the Fredericksburg dis-
aster, the consequences of downright folly on the part of the man-
agers of the war." "I could not help feeling indignant when I
read the account of the attack at Honey Hill, to find that our
troops were again marched, as they have been so often, in the
face of a battery where it was equally disastrous to advance or
retreat; it does seem to me that there was a disgraceful blunder
on the part of some one. ... At Thanksgiving time I visited
the Army of the Potomac. I went to the picket-lines and took a
deliberate look with my glass into a rebel battery; they did not
pay me the compliment to offer a single bullet; of course I don't
complain."
On the 8th of October, 1866, Mr. George Peabody gave one
hundred and fifty thousand dollars "in trust for the foundation and
1 The writer is sure that to Wyman's name more than to his own merits
were due the invitation from Dr. Francis H. Brown, also a pupil, to serve
under him as medical cadet at the Judiciary Square Army Hospital in Wash-
ington in July, 1862; the request to perform the necropsies there; the proposi-
tion to give the course in anatomy at a medical college; the detail to assist
Dr. John H. Brinton on "The Surgical History of the War "; and the special
opportunities for taking examinations for higher grades in the service.
1 82 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
maintenance of a museum and professorship of American archae-
ology and ethnology in connection with Harvard University."
Wyman was named one of the original seven trustees and became
curator.
Into this work Wyman entered with all the zeal and enthusiasm
of youth. As was his wont, he did all himself: every specimen
passed through his hands. Under date of January 2, 1869, his
ideas and methods were clearly set forth:
"I once thought my collection of thigh-bones and other long
bones uselessly large; but having just received more or less com-
plete skeletons of over fifty ! ! [the exclamation-points are his own]
moundbuilders from Kentucky, I find that, for the purposes of
comparison there is no such thing as too many, since everything
turns on averages. I see six months work ahead, and wish you
were here to help me. Just think of measuring fifty skulls, each
by twenty-five different measurements."
His seventh and last report contains an account of Canni-
balism among the American Aborigines based upon evidence that
he had been accumulating since 1861. This portion of the Report
is reproduced entire in the American Naturalist for July, 1874,
and there are quoted here only the characteristically judicial sum-
mary of the evidence and the grimly humorous comments upon
the motives for the origin and maintenance of cannibalism:
"It would perhaps be going too far to say that the presence of
human bones, under the circumstances above described, amounted
to absolute proof of cannibalism. The testimony of eye-witnesses
would be the only sure evidence of it. There is, however, nothing
with regard to them which is inconsistent with^this practice, nor
does any other explanation occur to us which accounts for their
presence so well. [Surely no professed logician could state that
better.]
"The idea of eating human flesh as ordinary food, may, per-
haps, have had its origin in eating it as a necessity. Once tasted
and found to be good, as all cannibals aver that it is, under the
influence of savage instincts and passions, the conversion of an
enemy's flesh into meat to eat would be very natural. . . . The
New Zealander loves human flesh as a choice food, and also eats
it under the superstitious belief that he thus not only incorporates
JEFFRIES WYMAN 183
the body of his enemy with his own, but absorbs also his enemy's
soul, so that ever after the two are one. To the victor this had an
especial significance, for believing in a future state and the pres-
ence of his enemy there, if he eats him in this life he makes sure
of it that there will be no trouble with him hereafter, for he pos-
sesses him body and soul already [p. 411]."
One of the pleasantest incidents in Professor Wyman's life, and
one known to comparatively few besides those directly concerned,
was the presentation to him, upon the eve of a visit to Europe,
of a testimonial in the double form of a sum of money and a letter
expressing the "warm feelings of gratitude and respect" enter-
tained toward him by those who had worked in his laboratory
between the years of 1850 and iSyo. 1 Wyman's acknowledgment
was characteristically simple and modest, and is here reproduced:
"CAMBRIDGE, Jan. 19, 1870.
"GENTLEMEN: I received, yesterday, the letter bringing your
good wishes and expressions of regard. They are most gratify-
ing to me, and recall, too, the great pleasure I have always en-
joyed from personal intercourse with you. Such testimonials are
among the greatest rewards a teacher can receive.
"Besides these, there is the unexpected and most generous gift
you send. I thankfully accept it; and, following one of your sug-
gestions, shall gladly devote it to the acquisition of some instru-
ments which I very much need; and so through your kindness,
shall not only be able to do my work as a teacher better, but shall
have the most pleasant associations connected with the means
you give me.
"Offering to each of you my heartiest thanks for this your re-
1 According to the Circular as to this Testimonial, issued October 20, 1869,
after he had ceased to receive students preparing to study medicine, the
total number communicated with was seventy-two. Of these the large
majority had became practitioners; at least three, the two Worcesters and
Mills, entered the ministry; the following, and probably others, became
teachers or private investigators: LeConte, '50; Dean, Wilder and Moore,
'59; Warriner and Lombard, '60; Rothrock, '61; Amory and James, '63;
Derby and Fitz, '64; Bowditch, '65; and Farlow, '66; thirteen in all. The
years under which the names are grouped indicate the dates of beginning
study with Wyman; comparatively few remained long enough to obtain a
degree with him before graduating in medicine.
184 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
membrance of me, I am, gentlemen, with the kindest regards and
best wishes,
"Always sincerely yours,
" [Signed] J. WYMAN.
"Drs. J. T. G. Nichols, Francis H. Brown, H. P. Walcott, Nor-
ton Folsom, H. E. Townsend."
His forethought and personal attention to details were nowhere
more clearly shown than in his preparations for expeditions, or for
the annual flight to Florida or South America. In no other way
can we account for the extent of the collections and information
gathered during these absences from Cambridge. In fact, his
vacations were only alternations of work; and his European tours
in 1853 and 1870 were less occasions of rest to himself than of gain
to the institutions with which he was connected.
Wyman was chosen to the Phi Beta Kappa, and attended
the annual meetings; he was not a Mason or a member of any
other secret organization. He did not smoke, and used wine with
moderation upon occasion.
Professor Wyman was twice married; in December, 1850, to
Adeline Wheelwright, who died in 1855, leaving two daughters;
in August, i8i, to Annie Williams Whitney, who died in Febru-
ary, 1864, shortly after the birth of an only son; there survive
the son and the younger daughter; see note to p. 172.
The following statements are derived from the memoir of Asa
Gray (see note to p. 172).
"Although Wyman's salary, derived from the Hersey endow-
ment (see p. 178) was slender indeed, he adapted his wants to his
means, foregoing neither his independence nor his scientific work.
In 1856 came unexpected and honorable aid from two old friends
of his father who appreciated the son and wished him to go on
with his scientific work without distraction. Dr. William J.
Walker sent him ten thousand dollars outright. Thomas Lee,
who had also helped in his early education, supplemented the en-
dowment of the Hersey professorship with an equal sum, stipu-
lating that the income should go to Wyman during life, whether
he held the chair or not. Seldom, if ever, has a moderate sum
produced a greater benefit.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 185
"Winter after winter, as he exchanged our bleak climate for
that of Florida, we could only hope that he would return. Spring
after spring he came back 'to us invigorated, thanks to the bland
air and the open life in boat and tent, which acted like a charm;
thanks, too, to the watchful care of his attached friend, Mr. Pea-
body, 1 his constant companion in Florida life. In 1874 it was late
in August when he left Cambridge for his usual visit to the White
Mountain region, by which he avoided the autumnal catarrh:
and there, at Bethlehem, New Hampshire, on the fourth of Sep-
tember, a severe hemorrhage from the lungs suddenly closed his
valuable life."
Half a century ago science was far less extensive and specialism
was less imperative. It was possible for one individual to be a
naturalist in a very broad sense. Wyman was not only an educated
physician and for a time an actual practitioner; his two courses
of lectures embraced embryology, anatomy and physiology, mainly
of vertebrates, yet of invertebrates in no small degree. Most of
his publications deal with the comparative anatomy of vertebrates,
but there are papers upon the structure, habits and development
of insects, shell-fish and worms; upon infusoria; upon fossil re-
mains and prehistoric human bones and implements; upon- plants
and the marks made by ripples and raindrops; the remarkable
discussion of the irregular forms of the cells of the bee involved
mathematic computations.
At a moderate estimate, Wyman's published communications,
nearly two hundred in number, would cover about one thousand
octavo pages, with many figures of his own making. A part, at
least, of his unpublished drawings and notes could be incorporated
with what he had already given to the world. Brought together
and properly edited, his works would be at once a benefit to science,
a memorial of their author, and an earnest of that which he was so
often urged to undertake, but which his successors should now
aim to accomplish ; namely, a comparative anatomy of vertebrates
based upon American forms.
The year of Wyman's inauguration as professor at Harvard
was signalized by his recognition of the gorilla as a new species
1 George Augustus Peabody, Esq., Burleigh Farm, Danvers, Mass.
i86 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
of ape. In order to appreciate the significance of the event itself
and the nature of Wyman's part in it some preliminary statements
are needed.
At that time, in addition to the many kinds of monkeys with
tails of greater or less length and lacking the vermiform appendix
of the intestinal cecum there were known several anthropoids
or man-like apes, with no trace of a tail but having an appendix
substantially like that of man. These apes comprised several
species of gibbons from Asia and Asiatic islands; the reddish-
brown orang of Borneo and Sumatra; and the black chimpanzee
of West Central Africa. The gibbons were not discussed by Wy-
man and need not be considered here; the chimpanzee was some-
times spoken of as the " Black orang." 1 Wyman had already
published an important paper on the structure of the chimpanzee
in conjunction with Dr. Thomas S. Savage, a corresponding mem-
ber of the Boston Society of Natural History; while serving as a
missionary on the West Coast of Africa, Dr. Savage obtained the
specimens that were examined by Wyman, and himself contributed
Observations on the External Characters and Habits.
The first scientific account of the gorilla was given by Wyman
in the summer of 1847, after the reception of specimens sent him
by Dr. Savage from New York on the i6th of July. The commu-
nication was made to the Boston Society of Natural History on the
i8th of August; 2 see the Proceedings, vol. 2, pp. 246-247.
The paper was printed in full, with four plates, in the Boston
1 "The term Orang, more commonly but incorrectly written Ourang, is
strictly applicable to the eastern species only. Orang is a Malay word which
means a reasonable being, and is also given to man and the elephant. Outan
means wild or of the woods; Orang-outan, wild man, Cambang-outan, wild
goat. Outang, the word generally used as the adjective, signifies a robber.
See Cuvier, Animal Kingdom, McMurtrie's Translation, vol. I, p. 57, note."
Footnote to Wyman's first paper on the Gorilla, p. 417.
2 At the meeting of the association of American Geologists and Naturalists
in Boston, beginning September 2oth, the specimens were also shown and
commented upon by Wyman, who that year was the Secretary. That associ-
ation was the precursor of the American Association for the Advancement of
Science which was organized at Philadelphia the following year.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 187
Journal of Natural History, vol. 5, part 4, pp. 41 7-443 - 1 The
Journal was in octavo form, and the large plates had to be folded.
Evidently Wyman realized the importance of the subject since
he took trie unusual trouble to have the article reprinted in quarto
form with the plates on heavier paper and the text repaged and
very slightly rearranged but not otherwise altered, excepting as to
the title-page, which reads as follows:
A DESCRIPTION OF THE CHARACTERS AND HABITS
OF TROGLODYTES GORILLA. BY THOMAS S. SAV-
AGE, M. D. CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE
BOSTON SOCIETY OF NATURAL HISTORY. AND OF
THE OSTEOLOGY OF THE SAME, BY JEFFRIES
WYMAN, M. D. HERSEY PROF. ANAT. IN HARVARD
UNIVERSITY.
(From the Boston Journal of Natural History.)
BOSTON: PRINTED BY FREEMAN AND BOLLES.
1847-
How many copies of this quarto edition were printed I have not
been able to learn. In the possession of Wyman's family is his
private copy, handsomely bound up with 26 leaves of ruled paper;
upon these, in Wyman's unmistakable handwriting, are copies of
letters relating to the gorilla, prefaced by an account of the early
stages of the discovery.
This account is signed, and dated Cambridge, June 18, 1866.
Although referred to in the memoirs by Gray and Packard, it has
never been printed so far as I am aware, and it is reproduced
here because in several respects it is a unique document. Not
only is the topic of unusual zoologic and anthropologic interest;
it embodies a really extraordinary evidence of self-abnegation
upon the part of both the men most directly concerned; and it
constitutes, so far as I know, the sole instance of Wyman's claim
for priority ; yet, it will be noted, even this was merely written for
1 This paper and the part of the Journal containing it seem to be very
rare; the writer will be grateful for information as to the location of copies.
i88 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
the sake of his family with no hint of a wish that it be published,
even after his death.
To the writer its presentation here appears as almost a sacred
duty, a duty to the man, to his family, to his university and to the
nation. 1
TROGLODYTES GORILLA, SAVAGE
HISTORY OF THE DISCOVERY
The existence in Africa of a large ape, which without doubt
was the gorilla, was mentioned by Battell, 2 and by Bowdich in
his Mission to Ashantee, 3 but it does not appear that either of
them saw the animal. In April, 1847, the Rev. J. L. Wilson
brought to the notice of Dr. Thomas S. Savage, while the latter
was on a visit to Gaboon, the skull of a large ape. Dr. Savage
became convinced that it was not known to naturalists, and
was able to obtain through the aid of Mr. Wilson other crania
and various portions of the skeleton, including the pelvis and
some of the long bones. He also sent drawings of a male and
female skull to Professor Owen, who satisfied himself from them,
that the ape in question was not the pongo of Borneo, but
expressed (in a letter) the belief that the crania might prove to
be those of an old, adult male and female chimpanzee. He,
however, threw out the suggestion that as there were two species
of apes in Borneo, Africa might also possess two species.
The collections of crania and bones belonging to Mr. Wilson
and Dr. Savage were placed by the later in my hands for de-
scription, Dr. Savage reserving for himself an account of the
1 Were a dozen persons, ordinarily intelligent and well-informed, to assign
offhand the credit for introducing to science "the most portentous and
diabolic caricature of humanity that an atrabilious poet ever conceived,"
probably at least one-half would name Huxley; three, Darwin; two might
name Owen, or perhaps one of these would recall the traveler, Du Chaillu;
certainly not more than one, if any, would mention either Savage or Wyman.
Even in the American edition of an ostensibly reliable work, Hartmann's
Anthropoid Apes (International Scientific Series, 1886), the index omits
Wyman's name; in the text (p. 5) it is misspelled; and his prior contribution
is recorded after that of Owen.
2 Purchas, His Pilgrimes, London, 1625, Part II, p. 984.
3 London, 4to, 1819, p. 440.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 189
outward characters and of the habits. A joint memoir was pre-
sented by us to the Boston Society of Natural History, Au-
gust i8th, 1847.
In the meantime Mr. Samuel Stutchbury, Curator of the
Bristol Museum in England, having learned of Dr. Savage his
discovery, obtained through Captain Wagstaff, three crania
which he immediately placed in the hands of Professor Owen
for description. An account of them was presented to the Zoo-
logical Society of London, February 22, 1848, six months after
our memoir had been read in Boston.
Professor Owen in a letter to Dr. Savage acknowledges that
our description established the specific characters of the gorilla
and that priority belonged to us. Through a vote of the Council
of the Zoological Society the osteological characters, as set forth
by me, were printed as an appendix to Professor Owen's memoir,
It does not appear, however, either in the Proceedings or the
Transactions of the Society at what time our memoir was published
nor that we had anticipated him in our description. 1
The credit of the discovery clearly belongs to Drs. Wilson and
Savage, chiefly to the latter, who first became convinced of the
fact that the species was new and who first brought it to the
notice of naturalists. The species therefore stands recorded
Troglodytes gorilla, Savage.
In the following account the notice of the external characters
and habits was prepared by Dr. Savage. The introductory
portion and the description of the crania and bones, and also
the determination of the differential characters on which the
establishment of the species rests, was prepared by me. In
view of this last fact Dr. Savage thought, as will be seen in
letter, that the species should stand in my name; but this I
declined. 2
In a conversation I had with Dr. A. A. Gould with regard to a
suitable name, when I informed him that Hanno stated that the
natives called the wild men of Africa Gorilla, he at once sug-
gested the specific name gorilla, which was adopted.
1 The italics are mine. I am unable to ascertain or even to conjecture the
date of Owen's reception of the first information as to the paper of Wyman
and Savage. His letter to Wyman, dated July 24, 1848 (copied in the latter's
private copy of the gorilla memoir already described), begins: "I duly re-
ceived," etc., but duly is a very indefinite word. Upon this matter no light is
thrown in the Life of Owen by his son.
2 The italics are the present writer's.
190 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
In October, 1489, Dr. G. A. Perkins brought to me two addi-
tional crania which formed the subject of a second memoir.
In 1859, Mr. P. B. Du Chaillu arrived in New York with a
large collection of the skins and skeletons of the gorilla. These
he kindly placed at my disposal. My notes on his collection
were printed in his book of travels. The account of the dis-
section of a young gorilla preserved in alcohol and which he
presented to me was printed in the Proceedings of the Boston
Society of Natural History, vol. 7, 1860, p. 211, and in vol. 9,
p. 203.
[SIGNED] JEFFRIES WYMAN, CAMBRIDGE, June 18, 1866.
His studies of the two African apes naturally led Wyman to
compare them with one another and with man. His second
paper on the gorilla (American Journal Science and Arts, n. s.,
vol. 9, 1850, pp. 34-45) contains unusually positive expressions:
"Owen regards the gorilla as the most anthropoid of all known
brutes. After a careful examination of his memoir I am forced
to the conclusion that the preponderance of evidence is unequivo-
cally opposed to the opinion there recorded. . . . There seems
to be no alternative but to regard the Chimpanzee as holding
the highest place in the brute creation [p. 41). No reasonable
ground for doubt remains, that the Enge-ena [gorilla] occupies a
lower position and consequently recedes further from man than
the Chimpanzee [p. 42]. ' Jl
The same paper contains a really extraordinary indeed, for
Wyman, almost anomalous feature, viz., the formulation of a
generalization without intimating the actual or probable occur-
rence of exceptions. On p. 41, in describing the cranium of a
gorilla, he says:
"In man, the intermaxillary bones form a projecting ridge on
the median line both in and below the nasal orifice and at the
1 It will be noted that two questions are involved, viz., (a) of the two
African apes, gorilla and chimpanzee, which resembles man the more nearly?
and (b) is either of them the highest animal? Both Wyman and Owen ap-
pear to assume that it is merely a choice between the two. Waiving for the
present the interesting question as to whether even man is the highest from
a purely structural standpoint, there are certain features of the brain of the
Bornean ape, the orang, that are more anthropoid than those of the two
African forms.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 191
middle of the border of this opening form the projecting 'nasal
spine,' which is not met with in any of the lower animals, and
is therefore an anatomical character peculiar to man."
The italics are his, a rare instance of emphasis of his own views. 1
Intimately associated with the subjects of the papers just named
is his elaborate exposition of The Cancellated Structure of those
Bones which have a Definite Relation to the Erect Position which is
Naturally assumed by Man alone. Communicated to the Natural
History Society in 1849, ft was not published until 1857 ; fortunately,
as stated in the note to p. 173, it was reprinted in 1902 by Wyman's
elder brother as part of a volume on Animal Mechanics. There
are described and figured, from sections of human bones, arrange-
ments of the lamellae and intervening spaces, mechanically adapted
to sustaining the weight of man in the erect attitude; he adds:
"The only animals in which I have detected any approach to the
structure of the neck of the thigh [bone] in man are the chimpanzee
and the gorilla. ... In these slight traces of the trusswork
exist."
Wyman's judicial temperament was never more needed or
more conspicuous than in his treatment of the ever-vexing prob-
lems of the differences and relative rank of the several human
races; then, as now, in this country, those problems constituted
a " Negro Question."
As early as 1847, m h* 8 nrs t gorilla paper, his views were thus
stated: "It cannot be denied that the Negro and the Orang 2 do
afford the points where man and the brute, when the totality of
their organization is considered, most nearly approach each other."
Granting any racial differences, and assuming the descent (or
ascent) of the human species from one or more ape-like forms now
extinct, the validity of the view that from those ancestral stocks
1 In certain apes and even monkeys has been detected a trace (beginning
or proton) of the nasal spine; and there have been recorded several cases of its
more or less nearly complete absence in man; practically, however, as stated
by Wyman, it constitutes a constant and peculiar human character.
2 Here, as explained on p. 186, he uses the one word for all the anthropoid
or tailless apes,
IQ2 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
the white race, as a whole, has advanced further than the black,
will be no more denied by thoughtful negroes than by the average
man of to-day would be denied the superior physical perfection
of, e. g., the type of the Apollo Belvedere.
But, in the first place, upon several occasions, Wyman took
pains to specify that, in respect to the location of the foramen
magnum (the orifice at the base of the skull through which the
brain is continuous with the spinal cord), the North American
Indians are more ape-like than the Africans. 1
In the second place, the same paragraph quoted above from
his gorilla paper contains the following emphatic declarations:
"Any anatomist who will take the trouble to compare the skeletons
of the Negro and the Orang, cannot fail to be struck at sight with
the wide gap which separates them. The difference between the
cranium, the pelvis, and the conformation of the upper extremities
in the Negro and the Caucasian, sinks into comparative insig-
nificance when compared with the vast difference which exists
between the conformation of the same parts in the Negro and the
Orang." A similar remark is made in his later paper on the
Hottentot, B. S. N. H., Proceedings, December i6th, 1863.
We may imagine the scorn with which Wyman would have
repudiated the implication of a novelist that an intelligent person
could not distinguish between the skull of a gorilla and that of a
negro. 2
Wyman's trusted janitor, Clary, was a dark mulatto. During
the Civil War, the action of the United States paymaster in offer-
ing, at first, the Massachusetts regiments of colored troops the
wages of laborers instead of the pay of soldiers, as had been prom-
ised, 3 was vigorously condemned by Wyman in a letter dated
1 Observations on Crania, Boston Society of Natural History Proceedings,
vol. II, April i5th, 1858; reprint, p. 14; also November 20, 1867, pp. 322-323.
2 For the later qualification of this implication and for some comparisons
between African and Caucasian brains see the writer's address, "The
Brain of the American Negro." Proceedings of The Annual Conference
of The National Negro Committee for igog.
3 This incident was related by me in an address, "Two Examples of the
Negro's Courage, Physical and Moral," at the Garrison Centenary in Boston,
JEFFRIES WYMAN 193
May 26, 1864: "All you say about the pay of the soldiers puts
the government in a very shabby light; its members are disgracing
themselves in the eyes of the world."
Evolution was a real and serious issue during the last fifteen
years of Wyman 's life. The first edition of Darwin's The Origin
of Species appeared in the fall of I85Q. 1 Like Asa Gray, Wil-
liam B. Rogers and some others Wyman felt no antagonism toward
the new theory and was even somewhat prepossessed in its favor.
But the formulation and publication of his views were delayed and
modified by his natural deliberation and dislike of controversy;
possibly, also, by the pronounced opposition of his nearest col-
league, Agassiz. His first distinct public expression of opinion
seems to have been in the following paragraph from his review
of Owen's " Monograph of the Aye- Aye," in the American Journal
of Science, 26. series, vol. 36, 1863, pp. 294-299:
"We conclude with expressing the belief, that there is no just
ground for taking, and that we arrive at no reasonable theory
which takes, a position intermediate between the two extremes.
We must either assume, on the one hand, that living organisms
commenced their existence fully formed, and by processes not in
accordance with the usual order of nature as it is revealed to hu-
man minds, or, on the other hand, that each species became such
by progressive development or transmutation; that, as in the in-
dividual, so in the aggregate of races, the simple forms were not
only the precursors, but the progenitors of the complex ones, and
that thus the order of nature, as commonly manifest in her works,
was maintained."
For Wyman the foregoing was quite emphatic. How keenly
he realized the situation appears in the following extract from a
letter written in 1871 (undated, but received by me on May 30):
December loth, 1905, printed in Alexander's Magazine for January, 1906.
See also the address referred to in the previous note.
1 At that time the present writer had just entered Wyman's laboratory and
begun to attend the meetings of the Boston Society of Natural History. He
recalls with awe the earnest discussions among the intellectual giants of the
day.
194 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
"At present I am giving a few lectures on Embryology and its
bearing on Evolution in general. It is a curious fact that the op-
ponents of evolution have as yet started no theory except the pre-
posterous one of immediate creation of each species. They simply
deny. After many trials I have never been able to get Agassiz to
commit himself to even the most general statement of a concep-
tion. He was just the man who ought to have taken up the evo-
lution theory and worked it into a good shape, which his knowl-
edge of embryology and palaeontology would have enabled him
to do. He has lost a golden opportunity, but there is no use in
talking of that." l
That this divergence upon a vital question did not estrange them
personally is greatly to the credit of both these great men.
In the posthumous paper on the shell-heaps of Florida, 2 which
Packard believes to have been written in 1873 or early in 1874,
he reiterates his general view and in a way applies it to the early
stages of the human species:
"The steady progress of discovery justifies the inference that
man, in the earliest periods of his existence of which we have
knowledge, was at the best a savage, enjoying the advantage of a
few rude inventions. According to the theory of evolution, which
has the merit of being based upon and not being inconsistent with
observed analogies and processes of nature, he must have gone
through a period when he was passing out of the animal into the
human state, when he was not yet provided with tools of any
sort, and when he lived simply the life of a brute."
The question of Abiogenesis ("spontaneous generation") was
considered by Wyman with his habitual caution. He performed
two extensive series of experiments with flasks 3 containing boiled
solutions of organic matter. The earlier (1862) seemed to indi-
1 In his memoir (referred to on p. 172, note) Asa Gray relates a conversa-
tion in which Wyman expressed the same regret and recalled a conversation
of his own with Agassiz, when the latter said that Humboldt had told him
that Cuvier missed a great opportunity in taking sides against St. Hilaire.
2 Fresh-water Shell-mounds of the St. Johns River, Florida. Fourth
memoir. Peabody Academy of Science, Salem, Mass., 1875.
3 One of these historic flasks has been appropriately placed in the charge
of Theobald Smith, M. D., Professor of Comparative Pathology in Harvard
University.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 195
cate the possibility of the reappearance of life after treatment and
under conditions that were supposed to be fatal. But in the later
series (1867), when the solutions were boiled for five consecutive
hours, living organisms did not afterward appear therein. Two
years later, under date of November 25th, 1869, ne wrote: "After
five hours boiling all flasks fail to sustain life. Nevertheless,
while I do not believe spontaneous generation proved, I by no
means consider it disproved." What a perfect illustration of the
aphorism of his friend and colleague, Asa Gray (I quote from
memory): "Upon many subjects a truly wise man remains long
in a state of neither belief nor unbelief; but your intellectually
short-sighted person is apt to be preternaturally clear-sighted,
and to find his way very promptly to one side or the other of every
mooted question."
Wyman was early interested in the study of monsters, not so
much as curiosities as because he felt the truth of Goethe's axiom,
"It is in her mistakes that Nature reveals her secrets;" his account
of a double fetus 1 concludes with a discussion of the proximate
causes of organic arrangement:
"The force, whatever it be, which regulates the distribution of
matter in a normal or abnormal embryo always acts symmet-
rically; and, if we look for any thing among known forces analo-
gous to it, it is to be found, if anywhere, in those known as polar
forces. The essential features of polarity, as in symmetry, are
antagonism either of qualities or forms. Studying the subject in
the most general manner, there are striking resemblances between
the distribution of matter capable of assuming a polar condition,
and free to move around a magnet, and the distribution of matter
around the nervous axis of an embryo."
Closely associated with these considerations is the problem of
the relationship between the arms and legs, to which he had long
given much thought, and upon which he published a very remark-
able paper. 2 The opening words are as follows:
1 Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, March 29, 1866.
2 On Symmetry and Homology in Limbs. Proc. Boston Soc. Nat. Hist.,
June 5, 1867, p. 32.
196 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
"Anatomists who have compared the fore and hind limbs of
men and animals have mostly described them as if they were
parallel repetitions of each other, just as are any two ribs on the
same side of the body. By a few they have been studied as sym-
metrical parts, repeating each other in a reversed manner from
before backwards, as right and left parts do from side to side.
We have adopted this last mode of viewing them, because, though
open to grave objections, as will be seen further on, the difficulties
met with are, on the whole, fewer than in the other, and because,
too, it is supported by the indications of fore-and-hind symmetry
in other parts of the body." 1
Those who have adopted his view, and who hope, in time, to
show that fore-and-hind symmetry is a fundamental law of verte-
brate organization, are encouraged by the reflection that their
leader seldom gave even a qualified assent to any doctrine which
did not prove in the main correct.
For some reason Wyman devoted comparatively little attention
to neurology. Under date of July 25, 1864, he wrote:
"I shall try to work in a direction in which I have hitherto done
but little, viz., the nervous system."
The papers on the brains of the frog (1852) and opossum (1869),
while admirable and suggestive so far as they go, fall short of
what might have been expected. The former, indeed, contains
what is, so far as I know, the sole instance, in all his writings, of
a serious misapprehension, viz., as to the developmental and mor-
phologic significance of the fusion of the right and left olfactory
bulbs in the frog.
It fell to Wyman to report upon the brains of two notable men,
Daniel Webster (1853), and Louis Agassiz (1873). To them he
refers in the last letter received from him, dated June 17, 1874,
less than three months before his own death. He says:
" Agassiz' brain weighed 1,495 grams, Webster's 1,500 and a
trifle more. Practically the two were alike as far as absolute weight
1 The writer has a sheet of paper upon which, on Christmas Day, 1861,
Wyman made five hasty but most graphic and suggestive sketches of the ideal
vertebrate, with its viscera and limbs symmetrically arranged with reference
to a central neutral point.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 197
goes. Neither was in a healthy condition; Webster's was some-
what atrophied and did not fill the skull, and Agassiz' had no doubt
diminished from its healthy weight." l
About two years after Wyman's Harvard appointment there
devolved upon him the painful duty of aiding the conviction of a
colleague of the crime of murder. On the 23d of November, 1849,
Dr. George Parkman (in whose honor was founded the chair of
anatomy held by Dr. Holmes) was killed in the college building
by John W. Webster, professor of chemistry. The latter tried to
dispose of the corpse by various means, including fire, and the
fragments of bone were identified by Wyman with characteristic
skill and caution; his evidence related also to the manner of dis-
membering the body and to the determination of blood-stains. 2
So predisposed was Wyman, by temperament and habit, to
recognize imperfections in brilliant and apparently perfect general-
izations, that, had he written a Latin grammar, he probably
would have set the rules in small type; the exceptions thereto in
type of medium size; and the exceptions to the exceptions in the
most conspicuous. In 1865, the commonly accepted assertion of
Lord Brougham that in the cell of the bee there is perfect agree-
ment between theory and observation, was tested by measure-
ments and by pictures ingeniously produced by the cells them-
selves. He concluded that "it may reasonably be doubted whether
a type cell is ever made."
In 1833 tne sensational newpaper report as to a "shower of
flesh and blood" was disposed of by Wyman's recognizing frag-
ments as similar to what he had seen disgorged by turkey-buzzards
during his sojourn at Richmond. In 1845 were exhibited, under
the name, Hydrarchos, what were claimed to be the bones of an
1 According to the above figures, reckoning the avoirdupois ounce as
equivalent to 28.35 grams, each of the brains weighed about 52.7 ounces.
This is not the place for an attempt to reconcile the figures with slightly
higher ones published elsewhere.
2 The execution took place August 30, 1850. The descriptions in the news-
papers so impressed the present writer, then nine years old, that he hanged
himself in order to see how it felt; his fi^* scientific experiment nearly proved
his last.
198 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
enormous extinct reptile. Wyman demonstrated that they were
cetacean or whale-like, and did not belong even to one and the
same individual; in short that they were a factitious agglomeration.
Among Wyman's numerous other contributions to the knowl-
edge and the interpretation of Nature, the following possess
perhaps the more general interest: The recognition of a new
species of manatee (sea-cow) from West Africa, 1849; an account
of the brain, organ of hearing and rudimentary eyes of blind-fish
from the Mammoth Cave, 1843, ^53-56 ; tne J et fr m tne blow-
hole of whales, shown to consist chiefly of the condensed moisture
of the breath, 1848-51; the gestation of the Surinam toad, the
male of which "plants" the eggs upon the back of the female,
where they are carried until hatched, 1854-56; the mode of forma-
tion of the rattle of the rattlesnake, 1861; on the alleged " sea-
serpent," 1863; the occurrence, in Florida, of a true crocodile, a
genus distinct from the alligator and previously supposed to be
restricted in this hemisphere to the southern half, 1870; the change
in habit of cows, found grazing under water in Florida, 1874. The
same state, his winter refuge and work-place for so many years,
yielded a really astonishing discovery, communicated to the Natural
History Society on the 7th of October, 1868, under the title, "On
a Threadworm Infesting the Brain of the Snake-bird," printed
in the Proceedings, vol. 12, pp. 100-104, and partly reproduced in
the Monthly Microscopical Journal, vol. 2, 1869, pp. 215-216.
The snake-bird, Plotus anhinga (now Anhinga anhinga), is com-
monly called " water- turkey," but is more nearly related to the
Divers and Cormorants, differing from them in the form of the
bill and in the length of the snake-like neck. In seventeen out oj
the nineteen individuals examined, Wyman found, coiled up on
the brain a mass of "threadworms," measuring each from three
to six centimeters (about one and one-fourth to two and one-half
inches) in length; the number varied from two to eight; they were
always upon the cerebellum, just behind the cerebral hemispheres,
and in some cases produced a distinct depression. "They are
viviparous and immensely prolific. Their presence constitutes
what may be called the normal condition of the bird. Their ear-
JEFFRIES WYMAN 199
Her stages are unknown, as likewise the manner in which the
transfer of the embryos is effected outwardly to some other animal,
or the water, and then back to another Anhinga." Surely almost
any other man than Wyman would have found in this surprising
combination a medium of greater scientific reputation, if not, in-
deed, newspaper notoriety. But that was not his way, and all
exploitation of his achievements has yet to be accomplished.
Wyman described very few species, and never permitted one to
be named after him. Less and less, too, year by year, did he seek
to draw conclusions as to relationship from his studies of animal
forms. His interpretations were either teleologic or purely mor-
phologic; that is, they either illustrated function, or the relations
of single parts, without reference to the entire organism.
This feature rendered Wyman's anatomic work absolutely
free from zoologic bias, and his statements were always received
as gospel by both parties to a controversy. He might not tell the
whole truth, for he might not see it at the time; but what he did
tell was " nothing but the truth," so far as it went. He is one of the
very few naturalists who " never told a lie," simply because he
never allowed his imagination to outstrip his observation. The
hottest partisan felt that a figure or description of Wyman's was,
so far as it went, as reliable as Nature herself.
The peculiar value of Wyman's writings and of his collections
depends not so much upon their extent as upon their absolute
trustworthiness. He worked and thought and wrote by and for
himself. His facts and ideas were his own; and the smallest
specimens bear the impress of his personal manipulation. All
were carefully labeled by himself, and in the descriptive catalogue
are rich treasures of fact and thought as yet unrevealed. 1
It was not strange that he carefully guarded the fruit of his life;
and the writer can never forget the solemn sense of responsibility
with which he first received the keys and the "freedom" of the
collection. 2 And although the demands upon Wyman's time and
1 The collection and its catalogue are now in charge of the Boston Society
of Natural History.
2 My diary of November 28, 1861, chronicles the permission (without
200 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
strength made by the Archaeological Museum debarred him from
anything like his former care, yet he never forgot his first love;
and, during the last summer of his life, the writer found him, as
of old, coat off and brush in hand, dusting and rearranging the
precious things, the very children of his own industry; every one
of them reminding him of some special time in the bygone years. 1
With almost a sigh he looked about him, and said, "No one man
should try to establish a great museum alone; for it absorbs all his
time and attention, and sooner or later ruins him, or falls itself
into decay."
Nor was this a temporary feeling, born of the day's weariness,
or the recent death of his colleague, Agassiz. Seven years earlier,
he had embodied the same conviction in the advice not to aim at
a multiplicity of specimens, but to select typical and representative
forms and parts. And, nearly as we may think that his own mu-
seum approaches his ideal, it can hardly be doubted, that, under
Providence, had it been one-half so large, Wyman's work would
have been lighter, his writings fuller, his life longer, and his fame
greater. But the past cannot be recalled. The man is gone. His
monument remains, its intrinsic value doubled by our recollections
of its builder.
To the ardent naturalist the sharpest temptation is that forbid-
den by the tenth commandment. A rare specimen, a new fact,
a brilliant idea, these are the things which he covets, and can hardly
refrain from appropriating, upon an unconscious conviction that
he is best capable of using them for the world's benefit, and that
the end justifies the means. How far Wyman was thus tempted,
he alone could tell; but that he never yielded in word or deed
would be unhesitatingly declared by all who knew him. In this,
as in other respects, his was an almost "impossible morality."
This freedom from the failings of ordinary men extended to
language and demeanor under all circumstances. The writer
precedent, I understood) to take out of town his finest gorilla cranium and
humerus.
i See Asa Gray's reference to the same period in the memoir named in the
note to p. 172.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 201
never knew him to lose his temper. The nearest approach to
profanity was the result of the catastrophe now to be described.
As has been stated already, Wyman's courses constituted a
senior elective. Those who attended them were not commonly
admitted to the laboratory. During the second year (I think) of
my pupilage, he determined to occupy a lecture-hour with the
exhibition of objects through microscopes. It was a great innova-
tion; never, so far as I know, had such an exhibition been held
before and the result did not encourage its repetition. In the fore-
noon of the previous day the tables in our laboratory were ar-
ranged, the instruments were adjusted, and each of us had his
station assigned as expositor of one or more specimens. That
afternoon Wyman did not come to the building at all; would
that I also had absented myself. In the corner near the sink, and
near the door of entrance, was the "macerating closet" communi-
cating with a ventilating flue through which bad odors could
escape. The floor of the closet was at about the height of a table.
Near the front stood a large glass jar containing a cat's carcass at
an advanced stage of maceration; that is, after the removal of
the skin and viscera and most of the flesh, the bones had been put
into a jar of water and allowed to stand until the remaining flesh
had decomposed and come off, leaving the bones free. I had oc-
casion to get something at the back of the closet. In descending
from it the tail of my dissecting-gown caught upon the top of the
jar and pulled it over after me; it broke and the contents spread
over the floor and entered the cracks. The intensity of the odor
may be inferred from the fact that my bespattered clothing had
to be destroyed. The janitor was summoned in haste and we all
cooperated toward purification, but with slight success. It was de-
cided rather pusillanimously, as it now appears to me not to
notify the professor. The windows were left open and we hoped
it would not be so bad after all.
Next morning Wyman arrived before me. What happened was
witnessed by a fellow-student. 1 The professor opened the door,
stopped short upon the threshold, threw up his hands, and ejacu-
1 J. F. Alleyne Adams, now a distinguished physician of Pittsfield, Mass.
202 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
lated " By George, what a confounded smell ! " Under the circum-
stances, from most men this would have seemed a very mild
exclamation; from Wyman's lips it fell upon his listeners like
lightning from a clear sky.
To conclude the episode; as the seniors arrived each sniffed
and asked whether the laboratory always smelt like that. The
exhibition was never repeated. Yet Wyman did not reproach me
nor did he ever again refer to the incident.
In those days listeners to anatomical lectures in some colleges
and medical schools were too often shocked by words or innuen-
does alike unworthy of the speaker and insulting to his hearers.
Wyman never uttered a word that might not have been published
abroad.
By some, this purity of life, reaching as it did into things great
and small, will be regarded as of no avail, unless a satisfactory
account is given of his religious convictions. This is out of the
writer's power, and even further from his purpose. I do not recall
a remark of Wyman's upon any theological topic whatever. His
daughters, however, inform me that "in term time he regularly
attended the college services, in vacations the Unitarian church,
and joined in the Communion. He was a lover of hymns, was
fond of reading the Bible and was distinctly a religious man." To
me he seemed almost above the need of spiritual information or
correction. His life was blameless. The heaviest of all human
afflictions was endured by him with a resignation to which no set
forms of piety could have contributed aught of value. He worked
on for science and for his fellow-men, thinking always of others
rather than of himself, and always doing better than he could
hope to be done by. And is not this the essence of true religion ?
Still we may gain some idea of his convictions respecting the
Creator, the relation of mind to matter, and the other life, from
passages in the notice of Dr. Burnett, already referred to:
" He seems to have had a pervading perception of God in his
works, and often in eloquent words gave expression to his feel-
ings when some new manifestation of divine wisdom was un-
covered to his inquiring mind. ... He had religious faith and
JEFFRIES WYMAN 203
religious hope. . . . There is a moment when, if ever on earth,
the heart, if it opens itself, does so without disguise; it is that dread
moment when death approaches so near, that there is no alterna-
tive but to look upon this earthly life as finished, its account
made up, and when all that remains for the mind to dwell upon is
the dissolution of the body, and the realization of another life."
Admired and trusted by his associates, by the younger naturalists
Wyman was absolutely adored. Ever ready with information,
with counsel and encouragement, so far from assuming toward
them the attitude of a superior, he on several occasions permitted
his original observations to be more or less merged within their
productions. His generous desire to accord all possible opportunity
and credit to others was early exemplified in his relations with Dr.
Savage in respect to the gorilla, as described on p. 189. Dr. S.
Weir Mitchell has records and recollections of like manifestations
toward himself. In the following instances the persons concerned
were former pupils and much younger than Wyman. His account
of the brain of the opossum was published as an appendix to the
Osteology and Myology of the same animal by Eliot Coues.
Edward S. Morse has a letter urging him to publish his own eluci-
dation of a morphologic point to which Wyman had already given
considerable attention; indeed, in a letter to me, dated Janu-
ary 15, 1872, he gives a diagram and alludes to a certain fact as a
" bombshell." Referring to the thesis of Norton Folsom, which
included an exposition of Wyman's own views upon "fore-and-
hind symmetry," he wrote me, May 26, 1864: "I do not know
exactly what ideas he brought forward, but I suppose they were
not unlike those we have all talked over [wholly his own]. I am
very glad that they are beginning to find their way into the minds of
young men, for the older ones will never listen to them." (The
italics are mine.) On the 2yth of February, 1863, while my own
thesis was under revision for belated publication, he wrote: "I
do not know that I have anything to add with regard to 'fore-and-
hind symmetry,' but if you find it convenient to make use of the
talks we have had about it, of course I should be glad to have
them turned to account."
204 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
The universal regard in which he was held is, in the writer's
case, intensified by the sense of peculiar obligations which might
cloud the estimate of any ordinary individual. 1 But to no man
more fitly than to Wyman could be addressed the lines:
"None knew thee but to love thee,
Nor named thee but to praise."
Nor were any strictures ever made upon him, from any
quarter, other than as to his extraordinary lack of personal am-
bition, and his aversion to public notice or display. If there
exist already no such words as inegotism and inegotistic they
really need to be coined in order to designate a characteristic
of Jeffries Wyman so pronounced that it almost ceased to be a
virtue.
His attitude toward criticism and critics is well exemplified in
the following extracts from letters of March i, 1863, and Octo-
ber 23, 1872, respectively:
"I do not think it worth the while to trouble yourself about
what Professor or anyone else chooses to say by way of
criticism of my experiments [on 'spontaneous generation']. One
thing is certain; if they are good, they will stand, and in the long
run fight their own way. The verbal criticism of anyone cannot
affect them.
"Have you seen the notice by of your paper, and mine
too [how characteristic the order]? It is quite comic to see how
he charges us with ignoring, etc. At first I thought of correcting
some of his mistakes, but all such things pass out of mind so soon
that it seemed useless, and so I am satisfied that the best way is
to say nothing."
Wyman rarely referred to what he had already done, and still
more rarely to what he intended to do. The only prognostication
1 In most cases the reprints of Wyman's papers were repaged, without even
adding the original page numbers in brackets. Probably this was due to the
preference of the printer and was simply overlooked by the author. The de-
fect is specified partly because it is still tolerated by some writers, but mainly
for the sake of showing that my affection and admiration for my friend and
teacher have not rendered me absolutely incapable of criticism.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 205
of this sort known to me occurs in his early and very suggestive
paper, "Analogies Which Exist Between the Structure of the Teeth
of the Lepidostei (Gars or Gar-pikes), and those of the Labyrintho-
donts (extinct Amphibia)." Bost. Soc. Nat. Hist., Proceedings,
1843, v l- I > PP- *3 i-i3 2 > tne report (for which, indeed, he may
not have been responsible, says: " Other analogies were found in
the osteology, but of these he proposes to speak in a future com-
munication." No such appears to have been made.
Wyman's language, in both speech and writing, was always sim-
ple and unaffected. The single instance of what might be termed,
in the usual sense, "fine writing," occurs in his notice of the life
and writings of Waldo I. Burnett, while speaking of the cell:
"The nucleated cell! that minute organic structure which
the unaided eye cannot discern, yet constituting the first stage of
every living being, the seat of so many of the complex phenomena
of animal and organic life, and the agent by which even the mind
itself retains its grasp, and exerts its influence upon the living
structures with which it is associated."
Wyman certainly never aimed at epigram, yet some of his say-
ings deserve at least to be called aphorisms. Of the following
the first two have been quoted already: "For the purposes of
comparison there is no such thing as too many, since everything
turns on averages." "Everything that can be reinforced by experi-
ment should be." "The isolated study of anything in Natural
History is a fruitful source of error." "No single experiment in
physiology is worth anything." "Here [as to the form of the bee's
cell], as is so often the case elsewhere in nature, the type-form is
an ideal one, and with this, real forms seldom or never coincide."
"The cat's anatomy should be done first because it would also
serve as an introduction to human anatomy and thus become an
important aid to medical education." "In organizing your
department aim to fulfil these four conditions, viz. (i) Let the
museum, laboratory and lecture-room be on one floor. (2) Light
the museum from above. (3) Select representative forms; for
what you want pay liberally if necessary; decline other things even
as gifts. (4) Give not more than two lectures a week, so as to
206 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
secure time for preparation, for research, and for the instruction
of advanced pupils."
As may be inferred from his character and from what has been
said on p. 205, Wyman preferred simple and vernacular terms.
During the years 1871-72 several of his letters contain frank ani-
madversions upon certain of my terminologic novelties. A discus-
sion of the subject would be out of place here. The following rep-
resentative extracts from a letter of October 23, 1872, should be
regarded in the light of two facts: First, his own studies of the brain
had been practically restricted to forms (frog and opossum) where
that organ is comparatively simple; secondly, it had not been then
proposed that the antagonistic preferences of the " classicists "
and the "vernacularists" might compromise in the employment
of paronyms, i. e., national slight modifications of the common
Latin antecedent; e. g., hippocampus, which becomes hippocampo
in Italian, hippocampe in French, hippocamp in English, and
Hippokamp in German.
"I really do not think the time has come to establish a general
nomenclature, that is, one covering the whole ground, for the
reason that the subject is still in its infancy and not ready for it.
The muddle growing out of human anatomy will naturally disap-
pear in the course of time, as the horizontal method of viewing
animals must prevail. The term, Intermembral, strikes me as
good, although at first I relucted at it." *
Notwithstanding Wyman's exceptionally mild disposition his
regard for verity was almost fierce, and upon occasion he could
rejoice in the tragedy implied in the phrase (from Huxley, I think),
"The slaying of a beautiful hypothesis by an ugly fact." At
Wyman's hands, however, the sacrifice would be accomplished
1 In this connection it is interesting and instructive to note that, in his
Memoir on the Development of the Ray, 1867, p. 35, Wyman consistently em-
ploys, if, indeed, he did not coin, the singularly appropriate term of Greek
derivation, protocercal, for the "primary, embryonic condition" of the tail;
this alone would warrant the use of the international proton rather than
"Anlage," the international and (to French anatomists, particularly) ob-
jectionable heteronym,
JEFFRIES WYMAN 207
(like the killing of mortally wounded soldiers by old Ambrose
Pare), "doucement et sans cholere."
This rare combination of judicial severity with gentle toleration
in Wyman's character is admirably portrayed by Dr. Holmes:
"If he had been one of the twelve around the Master, whom
they had seen hanging on the cross, no doubt, like Thomas, he
would have asked to see the print of the nails, and know for him-
self if those palms were pierced, and if that side had received the
soldier's spear thrust. But if he had something of the question-
ing follower in how many ways he reminded us of the beloved
disciple ! His characteristic excellencies recall many of the apostle's
descriptions of the virtue which never faileth. He suffered long
and was kind; he envied not; he vaunted not himself; he was not
puffed up; he sought not his own; was not easily provoked; thought
no evil; and rejoiced in the truth. If he differed from Charity in
not believing all things, he followed the apostolic precept of trying
all things, and holding fast that which stood the trial."
Without brilliancy, Wyman combined qualities rarely found in
the same individual. No man of our time has surpassed him in
the love of nature for its own sake, free from the hope of position,
power, or profit, in keenness of vision both physical and mental,
in absolute integrity with the least as well as the greatest things,
in industry and perseverance, and in method, whether for the
arrangement of collections, or the presentation of an idea. And
if to these had been adjoined a tithe of the ambition displayed by
lesser men, and had his health and strength been at all equal to
his mental powers, no one can doubt that his attainments, his pro-
ductions, and his reputation with the world at large would have
been surpassed by those of none of his contemporaries.
However much we may, for our own sakes, regret that such was
not the case, we know that into his mind never entered the shadow
of bitterness. His recognition of others' labors was full and gener-
ous: his mind was upon the facts and principles of nature, and
regarded not the medium through which they were obtained; and,
if he ever prayed for health and strength, it was surely not for his
own advancement, but because he felt within himself the desire
and the ability to learn and to teach the truth.
208 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
His reputation was less widespread than that of some others,
but it was more deeply rooted. And as the years roll on, and as
the final estimate is made of the value of what has been done in this
country, we may be sure that the name of Jeffries Wyman will
stand high among those who have joined rare ability and unwearied
industry with a pure and noble life. To use his own words upon
a like occasion, "Let us cherish his memory, and profit by his
example."
This account of Jeffries Wyman may close fitly with tributes
from two who were not only friends and colleagues but masters of
the art of expression, Oliver Wendell Holmes and James Russell
Lowell:
"A more beautiful and truly admirable character would be
hard to find among the recorded lives of men of science. The
basis of all was in his personal qualities, his absolute truthfulness,
his great modesty, his quiet enthusiasm, his inexhaustible patience.
He never boasted, he never sneered, he never tired, he put forward
no pretensions to infallibility, though he was never caught making
mistakes; he was always exact and positive as to what he had
seen, but willing to suspend his opinion, however tempting a
generalization might offer itself, if it was only probable and not
proved. He was prompt to recognize the merits of those whom
he considered in any way his superiors, generous in his estimate
of his equals, and a willing helper of those who looked to him for
any kind of knowledge he could impart. In a word, he was always
the same honest-minded, sagacious, unprejudiced, sweet-souled,
and gentle-mannered creature of God, whom it was a joy to meet,
a privilege to listen to, a regret to part from, whom it is a sorrow
to lose, and whom it will always be a precious inheritance to re-
member."
"The wisest man could ask no more of Fate
Than to be simple, modest, manly, true,
Safe from the Many, honored by the Few;
Nothing to count in World or Church, or State,
But inwardly in secret to be great;
To feel mysterious Nature ever new,
To touch, if not to grasp, her endless clue,
And learn by each discovery how to wait.
JEFFRIES WYMAN 209
He widened knowledge and escaped the praise;
He wisely taught, because more wise to learn;
He toiled for Science, not to draw men's gaze,
But for her lore of self-denial stern.
That such a man could spring from our decays
Fans the soul's nobler faith until it burn."
Reproduced by permission from the engraving on wood by Gustav Kruell. Copyright, 1890.
ASA GRAY
BOTANIST
1810-1888
BY JOHN M. COULTER
ASA GRAY became the foremost botanist of America, with a
place in the esteem and affection of American botanists so unique
that it is not likely to be duplicated. His reputation as a scientific
man was perhaps greater in Europe, for at that time his most
important work could be appreciated better there; but his hold
upon his American colleagues was more that of a genial and
helpful teacher than that of an impersonal investigator.
His boyhood gave little promise of this great future, for there
was nothing in his surroundings that suggested a life devoted to
science. It would be interesting to account for his unusual career
by discovering something in his ancestry or in his own early experi-
ences that brought it to pass. Unfortunately such records are too
scanty to be used in such a way, and Dr. Gray was too busy with
his work to supply more than the barest outline of his early life.
His father was a tanner in Sauquoit, Oneida County, New York,
where Gray was born, November 18, 1810. While he was very
young the family moved to a small settlement about a smelting
furnace Paris Furnace where the father established a tannery.
The child was set the monotonous task of feeding the bark-mill
and driving the old horse that furnished its motive power. Those
who have seen these old mills can appreciate that a keen, active
boy, restless in mind and body, would find such an occupation
depressing; but it may have been good training.
Mrs. Gray has recorded her impressions of the father and mother
as follows:
211
212 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
"The father was quick, decided, and an immense worker; from
him the son took his lively movements and his quick eagerness of
character, perhaps also his ready appreciation of fun.
"The mother was a woman of singularly quiet and gentle char-
acter, with great strength and decision, and possessed a wonder-
ful power of accomplishing and turning off work; a woman of
thoughtful, earnest ways, conscientious and self -forgetting."
There are some records of young Gray's precocity; for his
schooling is said to have begun when he was three years old; and
we are told that at six or seven he was a champion speller at the
numerous "spelling matches" that once furnished the chief excite-
ment of country neighborhoods. This was not bad training in
accuracy of observation and tenacity of memory, and both quali-
ties were later shown in high degree by the great botanist.
Professor Gray was not "college- trained," and his formal ed-
ucation would be regarded now as vague and irregular and not
very effective; and yet, even in purity and felicity of literary expres-
sion, which is often supposed to belong peculiarly to university
culture, he was not surpassed. If the best that formal education
can do is to make self-education possible, Gray needed no more
/ of it than he received. He was one of many strong men,^fuUjo
/ initiative, who develop in spite of lack of opportunities and con-
\ trary to the most approved principles of pedagogy.
For a time he studied at a "select school " taught by the pastor's
son, and at twelve he was sent to the Clinton Grammar School.
There he studied for two years, spending his summer vacations
in the harvest-field. After another year of study at the academy
in Fairfield, his general education was brought to a close, at a
point that one might roughly estimate as about half through a
good high school of to-day.
His practical father thought the time had come to turn educa-
tion into useful channels, and persuaded him to begin at once the
study of medicine. This advice to a partly trained boy of fifteen
was a testimony not only to his reputation as a student, but also
to the current notion as to the amount of general education neces-
sary for a physician. In 1826, therefore, Gray entered the "Medi-
ASA GRAY 213
cal College of the Western District," at Fairfield. His medical
training was a patchwork of lectures at the college and study in
the offices of practicing physicians, chiefly that of Dr. John F.
Trowbridge of Bridgewater; but it continued for five years, when
in 1831 he received the degree of M. D., a few months before he
was of age. His medical studies, however, served chiefly to intro-
duce him to botany, which became a growing desire throughout
his preparation for a medical career.
Fortunately we have Gray's own record of his distinct "call"
to botany. He says that during the winter of 1827-28 he chanced
to read the article "Botany" in Brewster's Edinburgh Encyclo-
pedia, and this aroused so greatly his interest in the subject that
he bought Eaton's Manual, read it eagerly, and longed for spring.
When the first flowers appeared, he tried his Manual, and he tells
us that "spring beauty" (Claytonid) was the first plant he named.
This seems to have been like putting a brand to a mass of dry fuel,
for his interest became a consuming one, and the fire was never
extinguished. The call came, therefore, not
inspiration of a teacher, but directly from Nature; and_to_rnost
great naturalists the call has come in this way. ~
In the botany of that day there was a peculiar charm to the real
naturalists, for it meant the forest and the field, the "search for
hid treasure," the triumphant discovery, the gradual accumulation
of material, the ever-widening horizon of "exchanges" and
friendships. To-day botany has made very great advances, and
there are many botanists who have never had these inspiring
experiences; but those who have had them recall the old thrill as
a beautiful memory. When Asa Gray became interested in bot-
any, the classification of plants chiefly of flowering plants
was the whole of botany; and it remained so in America well
through his long life. In a certain sense, North America was then
virgin territory, and its rich flora was awaiting discovery and
description. Naturally this was the first duty of American bot-
anists, and it was a task that bred enthusiasm, just as the dis-
covery of a new country is more exciting than its cultivation.
With the collection and naming of plants there came naturally
214
LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
for Gray the beginnings of an herbarium, the best record of his
discoveries. In those days the naming of ordinary plants was by
no means so simple a thing as Gray afterwards made it for the
botanical fraternity through his admirable Manual. Descriptions
were often meager and indefinite and scattered; and the frequent
uncertainties of determination would have discouraged any but
the most ardent. Hence in Gray's herbarium there began to
accumulate his perplexities plants that he could not identify.
Up to this time botany for him seems to have been only a fasci-
nating recreation, his serious purpose still being the medical pro-
fession; but his undetermined plants brought him into his vital
botanical connection, and so determined his career. In 1830, a
year before he received his medical degree, he went to New York
City to buy medical books for his instructor, Dr. Trowbridge. A
package of undetermined plants was taken along, for he hoped to
get the assistance of Dr. John Torrey, at that time the best known
American botanist. He failed to find him, but left the plants.
Presently there came a letter from Torrey, inclosing the names of
his plants, and doubtless also containing kindly expressions of
encouragement. In any event, this letter began their life-long
acquaintance and intimate association, until Dr. Torrey's death
in 1873.
Then came the struggle for a botanical^ o^ortunity, a struggle
that continued for seven or eight years. There was abundant
opportunity for botanical work, but in those days there were no
botanical positions. Botany was cultivated chiefly by practicing
physicians, clergymen, or those who had an income sufficient to
permit it. It was distinctly not recognized as a means of livelihood.
Gray did not want to practice medicine; he did want to devote
himself to botany; and he had no income. For six years he seems
to have lived "from hand to mouth," teaching during the winters,
chiefly in Utica, and using the money thus earned in making
collecting tours during the summers. One summer he spent in
Western New York; and another in the "pine-barrens" of New
Jersey, where he was sent by Dr. Torrey. Those who knew him
later, when his great reputation had become established, can well
ASA GRAY 215
imagine that his bright, cheery spirit carried him through these
uncertain years in the hope that some opportunity would present
itself. It was in the midst of this period, December, 1834, that he
read his first paper before the New York Lyceum of Natural
History; and it showed that the young botanist did not flinch
before the most difficult groups of plants, for it was a monograph
of North American Rhynchosporeae, a group of sedges.
Dr. Torrey became so much impressed with his ability that in
1835 he invited him to become his assistant; but the offer was with-
drawn later on account of the poor outlook for paying his salary,
which doubtless was to have been meager enough. To young Gray
this must have been a keen disappointment, for it seemed to shut
the door of a great opportunity. It would have seemed to most
men that botany should be abandoned as a means of living and
serious attention given to establishment in some recognized pro-
fession. But Gray returned to his father's house and spent the
year in preparing his Elements of Botany, which was published in
May, 1836, and was the first of that remarkable series of text-
books which for many years dominated botanical instruction in
the United States, and which are marvels of clear, masterful
presentation.
In 1836, through the influence of Dr. Torrey, Gray was ap-
pointed curator of the collections of the New York Lyceum of
Natural History, and in its new building he made his home. It
may be said that his career as a professional botanist began with
this appointment. Although it was to be regarded as only a tempo-
rary makeshift, his whole time could now be devoted to his chosen
pursuit. About this time an opportunity presented itself to the
young botanist that seemed to promise great things. A govern-
ment exploring expedition in the South Pacific was being organized,
and Gray secured appointment as botanist. But there were vexa-
tious delays and changes in organization, and it was not until 1838
that the expedition finally sailed, under command of Captain
Wilkes. It is useless to imagine what would have been the result
of Gray's personal study of the regions visited by this expedition;
but from his subsequent contributions it is safe to assume it would
216 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
have included much more than the description of new plants.
The unknown field of large geographical distribution thrust itself
upon him even at a distance; and it is certain that a personal
survey of vegetation in the mass would have made the subject far
more real and urgent. In the meantime, however, another oppor-
tunity had presented itself, and a choice had to be made. Gray
decided to resign his appointment to the expedition; but later its
collections came to him for study and he obtained a glimpse of
what he had missed. He made the most of this glimpse, for it
gave him that large contact with plants outside of North America
which always entered into his perspective.
What he regarded as the larger opportunity was the invitation
to become the junior author with Dr. Torrey of the contemplated
Flora of North A merica. While waiting for the Wilkes' Expedition
to sail, Gray "tried his hand," as he says, upon some of the families
for the first part of the Flora, with the result that he was asked to
become joint author. It is hard for botanists now to imagine the
chaotic condition at that time of descriptions of the North Ameri-
can flora. Even for the best known region publication was in
confusion; while the vaster western area was practically unknown.
To bring together in some definite organization the plants already
described, and to describe those brought back by various explor-
ing parties in the great west, was the task undertaken by the two
authors. With characteristic energy Gray threw himself into the
work, and the first two parts about half of the first volume
appeared in July and October, 1838.
At last a definite and congenial position was open to him, for
in 1838 he was elected Professor of Natural History in the newly
organized University of Michigan. In his work on the Flora, he
had become impressed with the necessity of studying the North
American plants stored in the great herbaria of Europe. Among
them were many of the types, that is, the actual plants upon which
the original descriptions had been based. Nearly all of the earlier
collections of North American plants were sent to Europe for
description; and the subsequent determinations of American bot-
anists were based upon descriptions often imperfect and ambigu-
ASA GRAY 217
cms, with no opportunity of comparison with the types. It is easy
to understand how incorrect determinations would be made, how
these would be perpetuated, and how descriptions would finally
be changed to suit the wrongly named plants. In Gray's first
work on the Flora he discovered that many American plants were
masquerading under false names; but to discover the real plant
to which a name belonged could only be done by examining the
type specimen. He felt that no more of the Flora should be pub-
lished until these types had been examined. Hence, although
accepting the Michigan appointment, he asked for and obtained
leave of absence to visit Europe, agreeing to serve the university
at the same time by buying books for the library.
In November, 1838, he sailed, and entered upon those personal
relations with the most distinguished European botanists that
continued with increasing intimacy until his death. His letters
show that he met almost every distinguished worker in systematic
botany, and their strong personal liking and admiration for him
is still freely expressed in the great herbaria he visited. In addition
to the herbaria of England and Scotland, he visited those of Paris,
Lyons, Geneva, Munich, Berlin, Halle, Hamburg, and Vienna.
In all he made six more or less prolonged visits to Europe and put
the identity of the older described American plants upon a sure
basis.
Upon Gray's return from his first trip to Europe, in 1839, his
leave of absence was extended by the University of Michigan. In
fact he never entered upon his duties there, the furlough merging
into his appointment at Harvard College. In the spring of 1842,
he visited Mr. B. D. Greene in Boston, and while there met
President Quincy of Harvard. Soon afterwards he was elected
to the Fisher Professorship of Natural History, and continued in
this position for the rest of his life. The large opportunity had
come at last, and it was at Harvard that Gray made his great repu-
tation, entering upon his duties there as teacher, author, and inves-
tigator with an enthusiasm and an ability that soon made Cam-
bridge the center of botanical instruction and investigation in
America. He was a most prolific writer, but a complete list of
218 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
/ his publications would give no adequate impression of Asa Gray
( as an inspiring teacher, a keen and kindly critic, and a bright and
) genial companion. Such impressions come only from personal
\ contact, but they go to make up the appeal to affection ; and in the
/ case of Professor Gray they accounted in no small way for his
I hold upon American botanists.
Reference has been made to the fact that Gray's scientific repu-
tation during his life was perhaps greater in Europe than in
America, for his real scientific colleagues were chiefly in Europe.
Now that American botany has developed a larger perspective,
some unprejudiced estimate of Gray's place in the science may be
made by an American botanist. During the period of Gray's
botanical activity, the science of botany in the United States con-
sisted almost exclusively of the determination of its flora. The
Atlantic states had been explored in a general way, and enough
was known to justify the publication of a few manuals. Isolation
from Europe, however, where the types were stored, had filled
these manuals with incorrectly determined plants. But the flora
of the much greater west remained practically unknown. Public
and private enterprise had organized exploring expeditions that
touched this flora slightly, and scattered reports contained de-
scriptions of many plants. In short the flora of North America
was partly in confusion and more largely unknown when Gray
began his work. His mission was to organize this chaotic material
into some orderly form, clearing away confusion, bringing together
scattered and often ill-considered publications, and establishing
American systematic botany upon a secure foundation. His was
the first serious and successful attempt to grasp the flora of the
whole continent and relate it properly to all previous publications.
It may be said that American systematic botany as a definite organ-
ized science, rather than a mass of isolated, sporadic efforts, dated
from the work of Asa Gray. To appreciate this fact, one has only
to compare the condition of systematic botany in America before
and after Gray. In his chosen subject, therefore, Gray stands
for its permanent transformation in America.
Work on the Flora of North America was pushed forward
ASA GRAY 219
rapidly after Gray's first return from Europe; but at this time
there began the memorable series of great transcontinental surveys,
each returning with notable collections of the plants of the regions
traversed. Naturally most of this material came to Torrey and
Gray for determination, and these botanists began to get some
glimpses of the riches of the American flora. Report after report
was published, and they are now well-known classics in American
systematic botany. So rapidly did the new material appear and
so endless did it seem that the Flora of North America was hope-
lessly out-of-date before half of it had appeared. Any attempt to
include the whole flora of North America in a single publication
was clearly out of the question at that time, and so its completion
was postponed indefinitely. Many years later, after the successive
waves of new material had subsided a little, Dr. Gray renewed the
attempt in what he called the Synoptical Flora of North America.
It began where the old Flora of Torrey and Gray stopped; then
it began to traverse again the ground of the older publication ; and
it is still in process of publication. It was hoped that it could be
completed by Dr. Gray; for although he could delegate his work,
he could not delegate his great grasp and vast experience. But
he did leave a reorganized science, and a better conception of what
such work demands in the way of research and equipment.
No one was more competent to estimate Gray's place in syste-
matic botany than his life-long friend Sir Joseph Hooker, the great
English botanist, who wrote in Nature, upon the occasion of
Gray's death:
"When the history of the progress of botany during the nine-
teenth century shall be written, two names will hold high posi-
tions; those of Professor Augustin Pyrame DeCandolle (Geneva)
and Professor Asa Gray. One sank to his rest in the Old World
as the other rose to eminence in the New. Both were great
teachers, prolific writers, and authors of the best elementary works
on botany of their day."
The preparation of the large Floras referred to was but the
bringing together in organized form of the great mass of mono-
graphs and "contributions" of new species that was constantly is-
220 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
suing from Cambridge; and the present student of the American
flora can hardly find a region of his subject that is not underlaid by
a substratum of Gray's work. The amount of such work, when
Gray's numerous other publications are considered, is surprising.
In addition to his tireless industry, he had a remarkable quickness
for discerning characters, seeing at once what many would have
to obtain by the drudgery of analysis and patient comparison.
At one time the writer was preparing a monograph of a small
family of plants under the direct supervision of Dr. Gray. In
the course of the work a snarl of confusing forms presented
themselves, and the most laborious examination brought no
satisfactory results. The material seemed too abundant to
classify, for intermediate forms persisted in contradicting every
suggestion as to grouping. Into the midst of this situation
Dr. Gray came, and spreading out the troublesome forms upon
a series of tables so that his eye could run over them all at once,
with surprising quickness he pointed out characters that proved
to be exactly the trail that was needed. To see Gray run through
a bundle of newly arrived plants was a revelation to the cautious
plodder. Every character he had ever met seemed vivid in
his memory and ready to be applied instantly; and the bundle
was "sorted" with a speed that defied imitation. It seemed
like intuition, but it was vast experience backed by a wonderful
memory; perhaps it could be called genius. Besides this facility
for work, Gray's descriptions were marvels of aptness and
lucidity. As his long-time friend W. M. Canby has written,
he had "a rare faculty of conveying his own knowledge to others
J^y ftfnt ft Uff ar> daccurate description." When one compares
Gray's brief but complete descriptions, containing no unnecessary
or inappropriate word or phrase, with the long, labored, repetitious
and ineffective descriptions of many systematists, this characteri-
zation will be appreciated.
Turning from Gray's work as the great organizer of systematic
botany in North America, to his work as a teacher, hij
Contact with students, his large correspondence, and his text-books
are all to be considered. Perhaps no more intimate description
ASA GRAY 221
of Professor Gray in the class-room has been given than that by
Dr. Farlow, first his pupil and afterwards his colleague at Harvard
University. His first impressions are recorded as follows:
"I expected to find an elderly and rather austere man; but I
found a young-looking man, with strikingly bright and expressive
eyes, quick in all his motions, and so thoroughly in earnest and
absorbed in his subject that he assumed that all his hearers must
be equally interested. There was an air of simplicity and straight-
forwardness, without a trace of conscious superiority or pedantic
manner, He was always young in spirit and his enthusiasm was
contagious."
He was a great teacher, not in the sense of exacting a rigid
discipline, but in the far better sense of transforming interest into
enthusiasm. Nor did he coddle interest, but trained it, often se-
verely. The writer very distinctly remembers submitting to him a
piece of work that must have been callow in the extreme, but which
seemed to its author fairly creditable. Glancing through it with
characteristic quickness, Gray sat down and took a half hour out
of an extremely busy day in performing a most searching and re-
lentless piece of dissection. As the flimsy fabric was torn to tatters,
the victim felt all the sinking of heart and discouragement that
must come to a man convinced that he is a complete failure. After-
wards he discovered that the operation was not to destroy but to
train, and the lesson was never forgotten. It brought a perspective
that no amount of coddling could have done. Another phase of
Gray's teaching, and one far too much neglected by scientific men,
is well brought out by an incident in the experience of Dr. J. T.
Rothrock, who says:
"It was not sufficient that the conclusions should be correct,
but they must be stated in exactly the right way. An artistic turn
of a sentence, making it graceful as well as logical, was in his
eyes of the utmost importance. 'There now, that is neatly stated,'
is an expression which yet rings in my ears. It was uttered by
Dr. Gray, when at last I had succeeded in 'putting a point' as he
thought it should be. I had written my first scientific paper at
least six times, and each time thought it was as well done as could
be; certainly as well done as I was capable of doing it. But my
222 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
critic was merciless. I mentally resolved each time that I would
not re-write it; but I did re- write it; and was obliged to continue
doing so until he thought it might be allowed to pass. It was the
most helpful lesson I ever received in the art of staling things."
Gray insisted upon developing initiative in the student. Perhaps
wCr^insysiemat^T&oiany lends itself more kindly to a slavish
following than almost any other. It is so much easier to copy
descriptions than to make them afresh, especially when they seem
clear and appropriate. This slavish following Dr. Gray could not
endure, and when the writer submitted him some pages of a con-
templated manual, he was informed that he was to act as an inves-
tigator rather than a recording machine. To see the plant vividly,
to seize the essential features, and then to describe them aptly
was to him as much a matter of individual style as the production
of a literary composition.
Gray's work as a teacher through his Manual touched his
greatest audience. The first edition appeared in 1848, and seven
editions were published. Probably no manual of botany was ever
so widely used for so long a time, and it well deserved its success.
It was a model of clear arrangement and masterly description.
It was simple enough for use by the beginner; its keys were easily
understood; and its descriptions were marvels of brevity and com-
pleteness. Long drawn out descriptions are confusing and to the
beginner they are baffling and often misleading; but the Manual
selects the essential features of each species and makes it stand out
sharply. It easily supplanted all preceding manuals, and for half
a century it has been the constant companion of every botanist
within its range. This made Gray's name a household word
wherever botany was either studied or only cultivated as a pas-
time, and helped in no small way to establish his singularly preemi-
nent reputation in this country.
Not only through his more technical scientific work, but more
largely through his Manual, he developed an enormous corre-
spondence. Collectors everywhere sent him plants for determina-
tion or confirmation, and he never turned them aside. It was
always a mystery how he found time to write so fully to so many
ASA GRAY 223
botanists of all grades, from the beginner to the intimate associate.
With considerable trepidation the writer, then a very amateurish
collector, sent some plants to Dr. Gray, which he thought might
be of interest. It seemed presumptuous to intrude upon the time
of one so occupied with larger matters, and with plants which were
probably common enough to him. The surprise came in the form
of a letter so full of kindly suggestion and encouragement that it
stimulated the ambition and aroused the affection of the recipient
so effectively that it determined his career and secured his unbroken
devotion. This case was far from being a solitary one, for just such
letters went daily from the study at Cambridge, prompted by the
kind heart of the great botanist; and it is little wonder that he held
all the younger botanists of the country in the hollow of his hand,
and became to them the court of final appeal. It was the combina-
tion of his opportunities and his genial helpfulness that secured for
him so unique a position. In fact, so complete was his domination
that to those outside it might seem to have the appearance of
autocratic control; but those inside knew that it was only the
natural control that belongs to a strong and helpful man in a
peculiarly favorable position to be of service.
Systematic botany lends itself peculiarly to this kind of friendly
contact, for it involves much correspondence and exchange of
material; so that its devotees cannot work isolated from their
fellows, but must form a great fraternity. This accounts for the
strong personal hold Gray had upon many whom he never met.
Such a hold is not possible now, aside from any peculiar power
that may have belonged to Gray; because several important
centers of systematic work have been established, botanists have
become more independent, and botany has become a many-sided
science.
Associated with the Manual were the various text-books of all
grades, from How Plants Grow to the Structural Botany. To say
that they are marvels of clear, flowing style is only to repeat the
common opinion concerning them. They are models of style for
elementary texts in general, as well as masterly presentations of the
subject as it was understood at that time. The first of the series
224 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
was the Elements of Botany, which appeared in 1836; and the last
and most important one, written from the university standpoint,
was the Structural Botany, published in 1879. Very few great
and hence much-occupied investigators are willing to take the
trouble to prepare text-books of their subject, much less elementary
text-books. But Gray was also a great educator, and his ambition
was to develop the science of botany by training the greatest
possible number, from the elementary schools to the university.
Never did he lose interest in this part of his work, and for nearly
half a century he taught not only the teachers but also the children.
From the text-books, often said to be "the finest set of text-books
ever issued in the English language," Gray's greatest popular
reputation came; for the great majority of Americans knew of
him as the author of their text-book in botany rather than as a
great investigator.
Gray's work did not end with the organization of systematic
botany in America and with teaching his science to Americans,
but he was also conspicuous as a great critic. His reviews of
current work were continuous through his long life, and it seemed
impossible that he could read so much. These reviews included
not only American work, but also all European work that was im-
portant. In fact for years he was the principal channel through
which foreign publications reached the majority of American
botanists, publications dealing not only with systematic botany,
but with all phases of the science. Apparently he wrote with no
effort; and his graceful, flowing style, with now and then some
fine humor, was very characteristic. He recognized the responsi-
bility of his position as critic, feeling that the science and those
who depended upon his opinion must be served. Hence his
reviews were not of the kind that either speak well of everything
or speak well of nothing; but they were sharply discriminating.
He was often severe, but never ill-natured or personal ; and always
contrived to find something for commendation. A chronological
collection of this great series of reviews would form a most instruc-
tive commentary on the history of botany for half a century. An
incident related by Mr. Thomas Meehan illustrates Gray's feeling
ASA GRAY 225
./
in reference to his duty as a critic, and explains how a man with
such evident kindly feeling and consideration for all could some-
times seem so harsh in criticism.
"Once a very zealous collector, to whom science was under
many obligations, described and published a large number of
plants from imperfect material, with undue haste, and without
competent knowledge. Dr. Gray had to show that really there
were very few new species among them, and in so doing his criti-
cism was unusually severe. In writing to Dr. Gray I ventured to
remonstrate with him upon the severity he had used. The reply
was, 'In my heart I would have been more tender than you, but
I cannot afford to be. I am, from my present position before the
world, a critic, and I cannot shrink from the duty which such a
position imposes upon me. If you were in the position that I am,
with a short life and a long task before you, and just as you
thought the way was clear for progress some one should dump
cart-loads of rubbish in your path, and you had to take off your
coat, roll up your sleeves, and spend weeks in digging that rubbish
away before you could proceed, I should not suppose you would
be a model of amiability. ' "
This critical care of his science appeared not only in his pub-
lished reviews, but also in the more numerous private letters to
authors. After any publication, it was the common thing for the
author to receive from Dr. Gray some characteristic comment,
very friendly but faithfully keen; and it always helped the next
performance. When the Botanical Gazette was established in
1875, the enterprise was encouraged and the name suggested by
Dr. Gray. But he followed up this responsibility faithfully, and
for some time after each issue the editor would receive a letter full
of commendations or caustic comments. It was quite charac-
teristic of the man that when the criticism had been unusually
savage and the editor was feeling that perhaps the journal had
better be abandoned, Dr. Gray would send a paper of his own
for publication.
Gray's interest extended beyond the somewhat narrow limits of
his special work in systematic botany, and included the general
philosophical aspects of biology. One of his most brilliant papers
was a discussion of the Relation of the Japanese Flora to That of
226 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
North America. The conclusions as to a former arctic connection
were all the more remarkable since at that time the testimony
from the boreal fossil flora was not in.
/ It was this larger biological interest that compelled Gray to be-
come the foremost expounder in this country of Darwin's theory
of natural selection. It was at the opening of the Civil War that
the notable discussion began, and perhaps it would have attracted
even larger public attention than it did if men's thoughts had not
been so engrossed by the terrible experiences through which the
country was passing. Gray was almost alone at first in meeting
the skepticism and opposition aroused by what was soon called
Darwinism; and his task was all the more difficult because of the
opposition of his very influential colleague Agassiz. What he
contended for was not so much belief in the theory of natural selec-
tion, for he himself did not accept it in all its fulness, as for an
attitude of mind that could recognize its bearings without preju-
dice and could see that it was consistent with theistic belief. Hence
he was its expounder rather than its defender. He debated with
skeptical scientists and unbelieving theologians; and especially
with the latter antagonists were his breadth and keenness shown.
All of his scattered writings upon this subject were later brought
together in a volume bearing the appropriate title Darwiniana.
It is an admirable commentary on the theory of natural selection,
in which the author now explains it with wonderful lucidity, as a
great teacher; now defends it against unjust attack, as a great
champion; now pierces the statements of theologians with most
brilliant logic, as a great debater; by one means and another
routing enemies and winning friends. In the midst of the general
storm aroused by the Origin of Species, Darwin himself learned
to rely upon the judgment and support of Gray, as shown by their
correspondence. In Darwin's letters to Gray will be found the
following statements:
"You never touch the subject without making it clearer;" "I
look at it as even more extraordinary that you never say a word
or use an epithet which does not fully express my meaning;"
"Others who perfectly understand my book, sometimes use ex-
ASA GRAY 227
pressions to which I demur;" "I hope and almost believe that the
time will come when you will go further in believing a much larger
amount of modification of species than you did at first or do now."
The contest involved a great principle, and Asa Gray should be
regarded as the great and successful champion in this country of
the freedom of scientific investigation from theological domination.
In 1873, Gray retired from instruction, to give his undivided
attention to the preparation of the Synoptical Flora and the
monographic studies connected with it. His priceless herbarium
and library had been given to Harvard University on condition
that they be housed in a fire-proof building. This building, in the
Botanic Garden at Cambridge, connected with Dr. Gray's house,
his own study being the connecting link between the two, is full
of associations for American botanists. Those who consulted the
herbarium, and all who published were compelled to do this sooner
or later, will never forget the rapid steps that now and then issued
from the study and hastened into the adjoining library; the oc-
casional words of friendly greeting; the still more prized invitation
to the study; and the genial hospitality of the home that was open
to all who loved plants.
After Cambridge became a receiving center for nearly all im-
portant collections of North American plants, it might be supposed
that Gray would be compelled to become exclusively a herbarium
botanist. The pressure of important work thrust upon him would
certainly seem to have justified it. But he began botany in the
"open," and he always returned to it at every opportunity. His
visits to the most interesting regions of the North American flora,
from the "pine barrens" of New Jersey and the mountains of
the South Atlantic states to the Rocky Mountains, were not only
the greatest delight to him, but memorable occasions to those
who were fortunate enough to accompany him. Like a boy at
home during a short vacation, he bubbled over with enthusiasm
and activity. The interesting plants were hailed with as keen a
pleasure as though they were new; perhaps with even greater
pleasure because they were old and prized friends. His light and
wiry body kept pace with his enthusiasm, and to be with him for
228 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
a day's tramp tried the endurance of the most experienced walkers.
One could not be with him long in the field without catching the
contagion and finding himself running about as eagerly as a boy
after butterflies.
He was preeminently a companionable man, delighting in his
friends, very vivacious, and always looking at his experiences
with the eyes of fresh youthfulness, as though his whole business
was to have a good time. From the hard strain of work he always
rebounded joyfully, never retaining the air of abstraction or weari-
ness. This secured for him the warm friendship of Cambridge
associates and of those whom he met in his travels; and his presence
always brought good cheer.
In 1848 Dr. Gray was married to Jane L. Loring, the daughter
of Charles Greely Loring, a lawyer in Boston. In all of his travels
Mrs. Gray was his constant companion, and established that fa-
miliarity with his work and his associates that made her a constant
help and delight. Their home life was charming, and although
childless, Dr. Gray was passionately fond of children, always greet-
ing them cordially, stopping to talk with them, and at times romp-
ing with them in boyish abandon.
Gray's reading was always omnivorous, and this, after all, he
says, was the larger part of his education. In his early boyhood
there was no great choice, and so everything was read that could
be obtained. He says, " History I rather took to, but especially
voyages and travels were my delight." At first very few novels
were available, but an introduction to the Waverley novels made
Scott his life-long favorite. Mrs. Gray, in her Letters of Asa
Gray, writes:
"In later life the novels were always saved for long journeys.
The novel of the day was picked out, and one pleasure of a long
day's ride in the train was to sit by his side and enjoy his pleasure
at the good things. The glee and delight with which he read
Hawthorne, especially the Wonder-Book and Tanglewood Tales,
make days to remember. So he read George Eliot, and Adam
Bede carried him happily through a fit of the toothache. Scott
always remained the prime favorite, and his last day of reading,
when the final illness was stealing so unexpectedly and insidiously
ASA GRAY 229
on, was spent over The Monastery, which he had been planning
to read on his homeward voyage in 1887."
Gray was of Irish ancestry, his great-great-grandfather having
emigrated from Ireland to Massachusetts as a member of a Scotch-
Irish colony composed of rigid Presbyterians, who desired to
leave Ireland to escape various persecutions. This religious inheri-
tance had not faded out when it reached Gray, and although to
some at the time he seemed far from orthodox in his champion-
ship of Darwin, he was always a theistic evolutionist. In the
preface to Darwiniana he makes the following distinct statement
of his religious views:
"As to the natural theological questions which are here through-
out brought into what most naturalists, and some other readers,
may deem undue prominence, there are many who may be in-
terested to know how these increasingly prevalent views and their
tendencies are regarded by one who is scientifically, and in his
own fashion, a Darwinian, philosophically a convinced theist, and
religiously an acceptor of the ' creed commonly called the Nicene,'
as the exponent of the Christian faith."
A glimpse of the man and the estimate of him by his colleagues
may be obtained from an extract taken from a letter written by
his friend Dean Church to Mrs. Gray.
"There is a special cachet in all Dr. Gray's papers, great and
small, which is his own, and which seems to me to distinguish
him from even his more famous contemporaries. There is the
scientific spirit in it, but firm, imaginative, fearless, cautious, with
large horizons, and very attentive and careful to objections and
qualifications; and there is besides, what is so often wanting in
scientific writing, ^ fry.?" spirit, always remembering that,
besides facts and laws, there are souls and characters over against
them, of as great account as they, in whose mirrors they are re-
flected, whom they excite and delight, and without whose interest
they would be blanks. The combination comes out in his great
generalizations, in the bold and yet considerate way in which he
deals with Darwin's ideas, and in the notices of so many of his
scientific friends, whom we feel that he was interested in as men,
and not only as scientific inquirers. The sweetness and charity,
which we remember so well in living converse, is always on the
230 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
lookout for some pleasant feature in the people of whom he writes,
and to give kindliness and equity to his judgment.
"And what a life of labors it was! I am perfectly aghast at the
amoiillf 61 grinding work of whicK these papers are the indirect
evidence. . . .
"For they [his religious views] were a most characteristic part
of the man, and the seriousness and earnest conviction with which
he let them be known had, I am convinced, a most wholesome
effect on the development of the great scientific theory in which
he was so much interested. It took off a great deal of the theo-
logical edge, which was its danger, both to those who upheld and
those who opposed it. I am sure things would have gone more
crossly and unreasonably, if his combination of fearless religion
and clearness of mind, and wise love of truth, had not told on the
controversy."
On November 18, 1885, Professor Gray's seventy-fifth birthday,
there was an outpouring of expressions of admiration and affec-
tion from American botanists that was remarkable. At the sugges-
tion of the editors of the Botanical Gazette, the expression took the
form of a silver memorial vase and personal letters of congratula-
tion. The responses were so prompt and generous that the whole
movement was really spontaneous, waiting only for the opportu-
nity. The legend upon the vase read
" 1810 November eighteenth 1885
Asa Gray
in token of the universal esteem of American botanists"
Beautifully wrought upon the vase were appropriate representa-
tives of the North American flora; and it was a keen pleasure to
see with what almost boyish delight the venerable but ever youth-
ful botanist recognized and named them. There were also greet-
ings from 1 80 American botanists; in fact from all who could be
notified of the anniversary; and James Russell Lowell contributed
the following sentiment:
"Just Fate, prolong his life well-spent
Whose indefatigable hours
Have been as gaily innocent
And fragrant as his flowers."
ASA GRAY 231
Professor Gray's published reply to this overwhelming tribute
was so characteristic in sentiment and in style that it must be
repeated. Addressing the American botanists he said:
" As I am quite unable to convey to you in words any adequate
idea of the gratification I received, on the morning of the i8th.
inst., from the wealth of congratulations and expressions of es-
teem and affection which welcomed my 75th birthday, I can do
no more than to render to each and all my heartiest thanks.
Among fellow-botanists, more pleasantly connected than in any
other pursuit by mutual giving and receiving, some recognition
of a rather uncommon anniversary might naturally be expected.
But this full flood of benediction, from the whole length and
breadth of the land, whose flora is a common study and a com-
mon delight, was as unexpected as it is touching and memorable.
Equally so is the exquisite vase which accompanied the messages
of congratulation and is to commemorate them, and upon which
not a few of the flowers associated with my name or with my
special studies are so deftly wrought by art that one may almost
say * the art itself is nature/ . . ."
A little more than two years after this notable anniversary, on
January 30, 1888, Asa Gray died, stricken with paralysis; and it
was the common voice of American botanists that they had lost
their leader and friend.
ff
I
JAMES DWIGHT DANA
GEOLOGIST
1813-1895
BY WILLIAM NORTH RICE
JAMES DWIGHT DANA l was born in Utica, New York, Feb-
ruary 12, 1813. He was a descendant of Richard Dana, who is be-
lieved to have emigrated from England to Massachusetts about
1640. Among the numerous posterity of Richard Dana are in-
cluded a remarkably large number of men of eminent achievement
in science, literature, and politics, in the ministry and the law. 2
The history of the family prior to the emigration of Richard Dana
is uncertain. It appears probable that the family name is of Italian
origin, and that some ancestor of Richard emigrated from Italy
1 In the preparation of this sketch, the principal sources (aside from per-
sonal memories of a revered teacher and friend, and from Professor Dana's
own works) have been the biography by President Oilman (The Life of
James Dwight Dana, Scientific Explorer, Mineralogist, Geologist, Zoologist.
New York and London, 1899), and the appreciative articles by Professors E.
S. Dana (American Journal of Science, series 3, vol. 49, pp. 329-356), Le-
Conte (Bulletin of the Geological Society of America, vol. 7, pp. 461-479),
Williams (Journal of Geology, vol. 3, pp. 601-621), Farrington (Journal of
Geology, vol. 3, pp. 335-340), and Beecher (American Geologist, vol. 17,
pp. 1-16).
2 Among the most eminent descendants of Richard Dana may be men-
tioned Francis Dana, member of the Continental Congress, Chief Justice of
Massachusetts; Richard Henry Dana, poet; Richard Henry Dana, Jr., jurist;
Samuel Whittlesey Dana, United States Senator from Connecticut; John
Winchester Dana, Governor of Maine; James Freeman Dana, chemist and
mineralogist; Samuel Luther Dana, chemist; Charles Anderson Dana, ed-
itor, Assistant Secretary of War.
233
234 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
to England. A number of Italians bearing the name of Dana
have had honorable careers in various intellectual professions.
The intense vivacity of mind and body which always characterized
Professor Dana may have been due in some degree to his inherit-
ance from the sunny land of Italy.
The parents of James Dwight Dana were intelligent, energetic,
and earnestly religious people, and the atmosphere of the home
swas thoroughly wholesome. " Honesty, virtue and industry seem
jdmost to be our natural inheritance," said Professor Dana in
after years, in grateful memory of the influences under which he
and his nine brothers and sisters had been reared. There is,
however, no evidence that the associations of his childhood home
tended to inspire or cultivate an interest in scientific investiga-
tion. One of his aunts, who was a member of the household in
which his boyhood was passed, describes him as "a merry boy,
always ready for a game of romps." She informs us that he
began collecting specimens at an early age, and that "he had quite
a cabinet before he was ten years old." How much significance
belongs to these early efforts, it is impossible to estimate.
The earliest influence tending to awaken into activity his scien-
tific taste and talent was found in an academy which had been
established in Utica by Charles Bartlett. The science teacher in
that school, Fay Edgerton, was a graduate of Rensselaer Poly-
technic Institute, and was far in advance of his time in his methods
of scientific instruction. His students were taught in large degree
by laboratory methods. Especially instructive and inspiring
were his short field excursions in term time, and his longer tours
with his students in the summer vacations, in which they collected
minerals, fossils, plants, etc., and acquired the mental habitudes
which come from first-hand contact with nature. Mr. Edgerton
was succeeded in his position by Asa Gray, the illustrious botanist.
It does not appear, however, that Dana was ever a pupil of Gray, 1
1 According to M. M. Bagg (quoted by Oilman, p. 16), Gray commenced
teaching in Utica in 1829; but a letter of Gray to Torrey (Letters of Asa
Cray, p. 37) shows that Gray's work in Utica did not begin till 1832. This
was after Dana had entered college.
JAMES DWIGHT DANA 235
though their friendship and helpful mutual influence certainly
commenced early in life.
In 1830, Dana entered the Sophomore Class of Yale College,
and he was duly graduated from that institution in 1833. His
standing in general scholarship was creditable though not brilliant.
Those were the days of the fixed curriculum in which the staples
were classics and mathematics. Dana's preparation in the classics
had been defective, and in college he did not distinguish him-
self in that department. He attained, however, a high grade in
mathematics; and it is needless to say that he made the most of
the rather scanty opportunities which an American college then
afforded for the study of the sciences of nature. Undoubtedly the
strongest influence in his college life towards the shaping of his
future career was that of the elder Benjamin Silliman, whose
pioneer work in chemistry and geology was already giving renown
to Yale College.
In the spring of 1833, Dana received an appointment as school-
master in the navy. He was ordered to report June 15, at Nor-
folk, Virginia, for service on the U. S. ship Delaware, in a cruise
in the Mediterranean. The school for the instruction of midship-
men on the ship was presided over by the chaplain. Dana's
work was that of instructor in mathematics. The routine duties
of his position left him much leisure, and he devoted a large por-
tion of his time to the study of crystallography. He had oppor-
tunities for observation of the geology of various localities on the
Mediterranean shores. The earliest of his long series of scientific
publications was a letter to Professor Silliman, describing Vesuvius
as it appeared in July, 1834, which was published in the American
Journal of Science in the following year. He returned to this
country near the end of the year 1834, and retired from the naval
service.
The return from the Mediterranean cruise was the beginning
of a period of perplexity. Already young Dana clearly heard the
inward call to a distinctively scientific career, but in those days
the opportunities to secure a livelihood in such a career were far
less abundant than at present. A great encouragement to the
236 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
aspirations of the young scientist was his appointment as assist-
ant to Professor Silliman in 1836. The routine duties of the posi
tion occupied but little time. He had the benefit of stimulating
association with other scientific men, and the use of the library and
the already respectable mineralogical collection of the college.
His studies at this period were chiefly in mineralogy; and in
1837 appeared the first of his great scientific works, the System
of Mineralogy. It is certainly remarkable that a book represent-
ing so large an amount of research should have been produced by
a man only twenty-four years old, and only four years out of
college. Successive editions of the work were published in 1844,
1850, 1854, and 1868. In the fifth edition Professor Dana had
the assistance of Professor George J. Brush. That edition in-
cluded only descriptive mineralogy, but was more voluminous
than the previous editions which had included crystallography
also. A sixth edition, completely rewritten by Professor Edward
S. Dana, the son of James D. Dana, was published in 1892.
The four years from the summer of 1838 to that of 1842 stand
strongly in contrast with the remainder of Professor Dana's career.
In those years he had an experience of the adventures, the hard-
ships, and perils, and no less of the joys, of the explorer of unknown
lands and seas. The remainder of his life was in the main the
quiet and uneventful life of the student. To him, as to his great
contemporary, Charles Darwin, a period of world-wide travel,
coming early in his career, with its opportunities of seeing most
varied aspects of nature and life, was doubtless of immense value
in storing his memory with material for scientific thought, and in
leading him to broad vjfiw-j^gfjx)smic jprf^ggggiv Most of all to a
geologist is wide and varied travel an experience of inestimable
importance.
The United States Exploring Expedition, under the command
of Lieutenant (afterwards Admiral) Charles Wilkes, sailed from
Norfolk, Virginia, August 18, 1838. The expedition consisted of
six vessels the Vincennes, the Peacock, the Porpoise, the Relief,
the Sea-gull, and the Flying-fish. Of these, the first two were
sloops-of-war, and were the principal vessels of the little squadron.
JAMES DWIGHT DANA 237
The last two were pilot boats. Asa Gray had been appointed Bot-
anist of the expedition, and it was largely through his influence that
Dana was induced to join the scientific staff as Mineralogist and
Geologist. The lifelong friendship of these two great men, which
was so full of inspiration to both in their long scientific careers,
had already begun. Various causes, however, led Gray to resign
his position before the departure of the expedition. The limits of
this article will not allow any consideration of Wilkes' memorable
voyage along the coast of the Antarctic continent, of the important
work done by the naval officers of the expedition in charting seas
and islands previously unknown, or even of the work of the other
naturalists. Only an outline can be given of the journeys, explo-
rations, and experiences in which Dana himself had a share. At
the start, Dana was assigned to the Peacock, and he shared the
fortunes of that vessel most of the time until the shipwreck which
ended her career.
The expedition crossed the Atlantic to Madeira, where Dana
had an opportunity for some study of the geology of the island.
Then a short visit was paid to the Cape Verde Islands, after
which the squadron sailed to Rio Janeiro, where it remained about
six weeks. The long stay at Rio was for the purpose of making
repairs and taking additional supplies. After leaving Rio, the
voyagers doubled Cape Horn, 'and the ships assembled in Orange
Harbor on the west side of Nassau Bay. From this point some
of the ships sailed southward for exploration in the Antarctic
regions, while the Relief, to which Dana had been transferred,
was ordered to a cruise in the Strait of Magellan. Unfavorable
and violent winds baffled for many days the attempt to enter the
strait. The troubles of this part of the expedition culminated in
a terrific storm of three days' duration, in which the ship lost all
but one of her anchors and very narrowly escaped shipwreck. The
Relief then sailed to Valparaiso, and in the course of a few weeks
the Vincennes and the Peacock arrived at the same port. Dana
and the other naturalists improved the opportunity to make some
excursions into the Chilian Andes. From Valparaiso the squadron
proceeded northward to Callao, and then sailed westward across
238 LEADING AMERICAN MEN OF SCIENCE
the Pacific in the summer of 1839. The main work of the expedi-
tion the exploration and charting of the Polynesian archipela-
goes was now to begin. They reached first th 
