96 ANNUAL REPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 1934 



that the same may be true of the cells of our bodies. And is it not 

 conceivable that what is true of the objects perceived may be true 

 also of the perceiving minds? When we view ourselves in space 

 and time we are quite obviously distinct individuals; when we pass 

 beyond space and time we may perhaps form ingredients of a con- 

 tinuous stream of life. It is only a step from this to a solution of 

 the problem which would have commended itself to many philoso- 

 phers, from Plato to Berkeley, and is, I think, directly in line with 

 the new world-picture of modern physics. 



I have left but little time to discuss affairs of a more concrete 

 nature. We meet in a year which has to some extent seen science 

 arraigned before the bar of public opinion; there are many who 

 attribute most of our present national woes — including unemploy- 

 ment in industry and the danger of war — to the recent rapid advance 

 in scientific knowledge. 



Even if their most lurid suspicions were justified, it is not clear 

 wdiat we could do. For it is obvious that the country which called 

 a halt to scientific progress would soon fall behind in every other 

 respect as well — in its industry, in its economic position, in its 

 naval and military defenses, and not least important, in its culture. 

 Those wdio sigh for an Arcadia in which all machinery would be 

 scrapped and all invention proclaimed a crime, as it was in Erewhon, 

 forget that the Erewhonians had neither to compete with highly 

 organized scientific competitors for the trade of the world nor to 

 protect themselves against possible bomb-dropping, blockade, or 

 invasion. 



But can we admit that the suspicions of our critics are justified? 

 If science has made the attack more deadly in war, it has also made 

 the defense more efficient; in the long run it shows no partiality in 

 the age-long race between weapons of attack and defense. This 

 being so, it would, I think, be hard to maintain in cold blood that its 

 activities are likely to make wars either more frequent or more pro- 

 longed. It is at least arguable that the more deadly a war is likely 

 to be, the less likely it is to occur. 



Still it may occur. We canot ignore the tragic fact that, as our 

 President of 2 years ago told us, science has given man control over 

 Nature before he has gained control over himself. The tragedy 

 does not lie in man's scientific control over Nature but in his absence 

 of moral control over himself. This is only one chapter of a long 

 story — human nature changes very slowly, and so forever lags 

 behind human knowledge, which accumulates very rapidly. The 

 plays of Aeschylus and Sophocles still thrill us with their vital 

 human interest, but the scientific writings of Aristarchus and Ptole- 

 my are dead — mere historical curiosities which leave us cold. Sci- 

 entific knowledge is transmitted from one generation to another, 



