44 



SCIENCE 



[VuL. XVI II. No. 442 



require liim to investigate the principles of the language for him- 

 self to the best of his ability, and the preceptor comes to his aid 

 only -when his translation is so faulty as to require correction. 

 He is constantly at his wits' ends to discover the ideas hidden in 

 the text before him. In those institutions, however, which are 

 endowed with these exhibition museums, the scientibo instruction 

 is not usually a requirement to study the subjects by original in- 

 ■vestigation, but a requirement to read, listen, absorb, recite. It 

 is an instruction on a parallel with early childhood. It is an in- 

 pouring process of imparting information. It is not by any means 

 on a par with that instruction which everywhere is given the 

 classical student. One imparts enlightenment, and the other 

 mental strength and culture. There is justice in the claim set up 

 for the study of the classics in such cases, viz., that they furnish 

 a better mental training and culture. How much of this clairn, 

 ■which is common only among those who have never had a scien- 

 tific training in the scientific method, is due to the prevalence of 

 this kind of scientific teaching in our colleges, would be an inter- 

 esting and fruitful inquiry, if thoroughly investigated. 



Suppose, on the other hand, that scientific instruction were as 

 thoroughly organized in all the colleges of the country as is that 

 «f Greek and Latin. Suppose on the analytic, or on the inductive 

 method,- all scientific truth were imparted to the student. This 

 ■would, of course, be impossible in the ordinary undergraduate 

 course without disturbing the present status, in which only math- 

 ematics and the classics are thus taught. Suppose the student 

 ■were shown a list of scientific problems which he must solve, with 

 only the guidance of his native resources, and a few hints from 

 Ms instructor as to the principles involved. Then let another 

 series be presented, which, while involving those already an- 

 swered, should demand still further and wider investigation. 

 Suppose a whole term be spent in that vvay; nay, let us suppose a 

 ■whole year, yes, three or four years, and, in order to make a par- 

 allel case, let us require that before presenting himself for admis- 

 sion to the freshman class the student shall have spent a year or 

 two in similar independent investigation within the preparatory 

 school. Then let it be further supposed that this method of sci- 

 entific instruction were well established, with competent instruc- 

 tors in all the colleges of the country, with a public sentiment 

 sufficiently informed to sustain it, and that it had courses of 

 study well organized and differentiated, leading to honorable de- 

 grees at graduation, and public emoluments inviting to its pursuit, 

 — then, and only then, could the disciplinary value of scientific 

 education be compared fairly with that of the classics. 



You may see at once that an exhibition-museum, as an attach- 

 ment to an institution dominated by the old ideas of education, Is 

 only expressive of the kind of scientific education which such an 

 institution desires to impart. It is only the sign of the enslave- 

 ment of the scientific idea, in all its educational machinery, by 

 the classical. To my mind, the establishment of such a museum 

 would not be the best way to introduce scientific instruction into 

 any college, however successful it might be in touching the popu- 

 lar appreciation or in opening the popular purse. The best scien- 

 tific instruction is based on other foundations, and pursues other 

 methods, and reaches other ends. 



The true museuii is that which approaches nearest to the car- 

 dinal idea of the Grecian museum. Its aim is not to amuse, nor 

 to instruct, but to afford that inspiration which shall enable the 

 visitor to instruct others. The reverent devotee approaches such 

 a museum with no selfish motive. He invokes his muse to in- 

 spire in him sentiments that shall benefit his fellow-men. When 

 I say that there are but few such museums in our day, you will 

 not question the statement. You will rather inquire whether 

 there are any such in existence. Such a museum is based on a 

 broader idea than the exhibition-museum, although its frequen- 

 ters may be fewer. Scientific research, long-continued study, 

 profound contemplation, and conference with the writings of 

 others — these are the purposes of such a museum. In but few 

 places is this carried out, but it is the fundamental and growing 

 idea underlying some modern museums. The full fruition of this 

 idea will be the culminating result of the germ which was planted 

 in the early Grecian soil. Transferred to modern times, ripening 

 in the sunlight of a new civilization, with its roots nourished by 



more genial influences, the germ of the Grecian museum produces 

 in our day, or is beginning to produce, a fruit somewhat different, 

 although generically it is identical with that which it bore under 

 Athenian culture. 



Modern society is beginning to awaken to the debt that it owes 

 to modern science. Modern science is the savior and promoter 

 of modem institixtions, the generator and sustainer of modern 

 civilization. I speak not of the influence of the Christian church 

 in modern times, because the Christian church cannot be accred- 

 ited with the revival of modern science, nor with the inauguration 

 of modern civilization. The Christian church existed through the 

 darkest epochs of the middle ages, and gave no aid to science. 

 Modern science, which, in its ramifications into social affairs, is 

 the distinguishing badge of modern civilization, rose in spite of 

 the church, and against its active opposition. This is not the 

 fault of Christianity but the fault of those who were responsible 

 for misrepresenting Christianity. The germinal motive of the 

 Grecian museum — the search after truth and the desire to be in- 

 spii-ed by it — was also the germinal idea of Christianity. Its 

 fruition is the effort to serve and to save others. Many genera- 

 tions passed during which the germ slumbered, or was smothered 

 under the tares of human ambition and sophistry. At length it 

 pierced through the adversities by which it was surrounded, and 

 began to manifest itself by its good works, and by the good which 

 it reflected upon its enemies. The church was the nominal cus- 

 todian of the germ, and ought to have welcomed and enjoyed its 

 first fruits; but it did not. The sturdy growth which it now pre- 

 sents to modern society has reacted upon the church, and the 

 church begins to recognize what a nearly fatal mistake she made 

 in trying to smother the young plant. She now perceives that 

 the plant is very similar to her own, and that the fruits of the two 

 are nearly identical. Whereas she had discarded it, at its first 

 appearance, as a vicious and foreign weed, she now is willing that 

 it shall be transplanted into her own field and shall be nurtured 

 by the same hands. 



It is only with this recent awakening of modern society to the 

 usefulness and beneficence of modern science that the true idea of 

 a true museum has become again apparent. This idea finds illus- 

 tration in a few museums in all the great nations of Europe and 

 America. The highest enlightenment is compatible with the 

 highest efficiency of these organizations, for they are the great 

 dynamos that keep the machinery of modern advancement con- 

 tinually moving. This, however, has been the result of a growth 

 whose former stages were insignificant, and perhaps but faintly 

 foreshadowed the form that the completed museum should take 

 on. This growth had a natural philosophical as well as chrono- 

 logic order. We might appeal to history to show tliis. From 

 the lowest form of a museum meant for amusement simply, con- 

 sisting of a collection of rare and grotesque objects, rose that 

 which embraced the idea and purpose of education. With in- 

 struction, still variously larded with amusement, gradually came 

 necessarily the last term of the series, viz., an eagerness for re- 

 search. This last term, first put into ideal form by Lord Bacon 

 in his " New Atlantis,"' near the end of the seventeenth century, 

 in which he works the idea of a great national museum into his 

 romance, was definitely recognized and enacted by parliament, in 

 the establishment of the British Museum in 1753. The Louvre at 

 Paris, containing the great national museum, was converted from 

 a royal residence and playhouse when in 1789 it came into the pos- 

 session of a republican government. 



But I need scarcely mention, to this audience, those museums 

 which exemplify the idea which I am trying to inculcate. If you 

 call to mind those bee-hives of industry where are stored the 

 choicest collections of years, or of centuries, representing all de- 

 partments of knowledge, whether of natural science, or of history 

 and antiquity, or of literature, or of art, in which the nations of 

 the earth take the greatest pride, you see, perhaps, in Britain, the 

 great British Museum, with its numerous departments and its 

 libraries, or the United States National Museum at Washing- 

 ton, or some of the great continental museums. These great 

 collections subserve the ends both of instruction and of research, 

 but chiefly their purpose is to aid the student in research, although 

 this was not the prime object in their establishment. As already 



