societies, of which he was president that year. In discussing the paper of 

 the evening, Major Powell defended the thesis that the interior of the 

 earth was fluid, a fluidity which was due to pressure. After the meeting, 

 I secured an introduction to the Major and asked him if he would please 

 explain to me how pressure could liquefy substances that expand on 

 melting. "Don't you see that.?" he said. "No," I replied, "I don't see it." 

 "You don't mean to tell me that you can't understand that?" "It's just 

 what I do mean to tell you." "Well, then, you come to my office tomor- 

 row morning and I'll explain it to you." I said to myself, "That man is 

 a humbug, I've no use for him." It was a long time before the effects of 

 this conversation died away, so that I could recognize the very remark- 

 able character of Major Powell's career and appreciate the great value of 

 his services to science. 



In 1879 Congress took the obviously needful and sensible step of 

 combining the four organizations into the U.S. Geological Survey, but 

 the first director of it was Clarence King, a victory for Marsh, who was 

 the palaeontologist of King's Survey. Mr. King held the directorship for 

 only a year and was succeeded by Major Powell, but Marsh retained his 

 office as palaeontologist until the end of his life. The violent ending of 

 several surveys, particularly that of Hayden, had certain very unfortu- 

 nate results. The loss of Mr. Holmes to geology was a calamity, for his 

 power of delineating geological structures was unique, witness the atlas 

 he made for Major Dutton's Grand Canyon. A great body of Cope's 

 work, for which the lithographic plates had actually been printed, was 

 never pubhshed, owing to Marsh's veto. In 19 15, when Cope had been 

 dead for many years, Dr. W. D. Matthew, of the American Museum, in 

 cooperation with the U.S. Geological Survey, had an edition of these 

 plates bound and distributed, but the text was never printed. 



It was essential to give a sketch of the situation, ostensible and hidden, 

 in the field of palaeontology when Osborn and I began our labours in 

 it. The most unfortunate feud, to which I have referred, had many ram- 

 ifications and it hindered and hampered the younger generation for 

 years. Even yet, its effects persist, though in no very important ways, and 

 crop out when one is least expecting them. 



Of our journey, novel to most of us though it was, there is not much 

 to be said. The Middle West was not then the busy, prosperous region 

 that it has since become, and the principal impression which it made 

 upon me then was one of crudeness and shabbiness. The roads were 

 quagmires of black mud; the towns were chiefly of wood and sadly in 

 need of paint and, though there were a great many fine-looking farms, 



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