THE PROGRESS OF SCIENCE 



IOI 



of thought, and to lead you to a dispas- 

 sionate historical conception and judg- 

 ment of things of the past of foreign 

 lands. Scientific work of this kind does 

 not separate, it unites; it teaches to 

 understand and to discern, not to des- 

 pise. While I am saying this to you, 

 the figure of my teacher, Gaston Paris, 

 appears before me. Those years of 

 study, those fellow-students, arise be- 

 fore my mind, with which are connected 

 indelible memories of distant days of 

 my youth and of recent happy inter- 

 course. You have often heard from me 

 the names of these collaborators and 

 investigators. I have often here ex- 

 pressed to you what our science owes 

 them, for what I myself am indebted 

 to them. 



' ' Beyond the bloody struggle of the 

 present looms the dominating personal- 

 ity of Gaston Paris. Gratefully I sa- 

 lute his spirit from this place. I have 

 often acknowledged the deep decisive 

 influence he has exercised upon me; the 

 best that I can give you has been aroused 

 in me by him. Listen to the words 

 with which he, the man of thirty, re- 

 opened his lectures at the College de 

 France in December, 1870, in besieged 

 Paris, ' surrounded by the iron ring, 

 which the German armies have closed 

 about us. ' After a short reference to 

 the work of the last term and to the 

 students who had followed the call to 

 arms, and some of whom might be in 

 the hostile army of the besiegers, he 

 spoke of the scientific problems which 

 even in these anxious hours, 'when the 

 Fatherland claimed all our thoughts, ' 

 still had a right to be considered. 



I do not believe that, on the whole, 

 patriotism has anything to do with sci- 

 ence. The lecture-room is no political 

 platform. Whoever uses the lecture- 

 room to defend or to attack anvthing 

 that lies outside of its purely intellec- 

 tual province diverts it from its true 

 purpose. I advocate unconditionally 

 and without reservation the doctrine 

 that science must adopt as her only 

 aim the search of truth — truth for her 

 own sake, without troubling herself 



whether this truth may, if put into 

 practise, have good or evil, regrettable 

 or gratifying consequences. Whoever 

 indulges in the slightest concealment, 

 the most trifling change in the presen- 

 tation of those facts which are objects 

 of his research, or in the deductions 

 which he draws therefrom — though led 

 by patriotic, religious or even moral 

 considerations — is not worthy of a place 

 in the great laboratory to which honesty 

 is a much more indispensable title than 

 skill or cleverness. 



If the studies pursued in common are 

 so conceive ° and are carried on in this 

 spirit in all civilized countries, then 

 they will constitute a great Fatherland, 

 high above all barriers of hostile nation- 

 alities, undefiled by war, unmenaced by 

 conquerors, in which minds can find t 

 refuge and union which the Civitas Dei 

 offered them in other davs. 



' ' Thus a young French scientist, who 

 was at the same time an ardent patriot, 

 spoke to his hearers on December 8, 

 2870. I do not know if patriotism in 

 Paris has found similar expression to- 

 day. Time will show. But I wish to 

 remind you to-day of the words of this 

 strong and noble man, who combined in 

 wonderful harmony loyalty to the soil 

 and citizenship of the world — love of 

 his country and love of truth.- May his 

 words not have been spoken in vain! 



' ' The German student of Eomance 

 subjects finds the fields of his labors to 

 a great extent covered with ruins. The 

 blossoms which had promised fruit have 

 been blighted. The fruit which seemed 

 already garnered is destroyed. New 

 life will surely blossom from these 

 ruins, for nature wills it so, for the 

 salvation of mankind. Wherever the 

 ground is strewn with wreckage we shall 

 again draw furrows and scatter seed, 

 and those who come after us will gather 

 the harvest. And Teutons and Latins 

 will enjoy it in common. Without this 

 faith in the power and the perpetuity 

 of the Civitas Dei of science, I should 

 not stand before you to-day as your 

 teacher of Eomance philology, and your 

 guide through French literature of the 

 eighteenth century, which domain we 

 expect to explore during this winter 

 term quietly and with steadfast pur- 

 pose. ' ' 



