July 1, 1910] 



SCIENCE 



while these same college presidents repre- 

 sent learning to the imagination of the 

 millionaire and to the imagination of the 

 great public. The ignorant millionaire 

 must trust somebody; and whom he trusts 

 lie rules. Now if we go one step further 

 in the reasoning and discover that the mil- 

 lionaire himself has a somewhat exagger- 

 ated reverence for the opinions of the great 

 public, we shall see that this whole matter 

 is a coil of influence emanating from the 

 great public and winding up— and gener- 

 ally winding up very tight— about the 

 necks of our college faculties and of our 

 professional scholars. The millionaire and 

 the college president are simply middle 

 men, who transmit the pressure from the 

 average citizen to the learned classes. 

 What the average citizen desires to have 

 done in education gets itself accomplished, 

 though the process should involve the ex- 

 tinction of the race of educated gentlemen. 

 The problem before us in America is the 

 unwinding of this "knot intrinsieate" into 

 which our education has become tied, the 

 unwinding of this boa-constrictor of igno- 

 rant public opinion which has been strang- 

 ling and, to some extent, is still strangling 

 our scholars. 



I have no categorical solution of the 

 problem, nor do I, to tell the truth, put an 

 absolute faith in any analysis of social 

 forces, even of my own. If I point out one 

 of the strands in the knot as the best 

 strand to begin work on, it is with the con- 

 sciousness that there are no doubt other 

 effectual ways of working, and other ways 

 of feeling about the matter that are more 

 profound. 



The natural custodians of education in 

 any age are the learned men of the land, 

 including the professors and schoolmasters. 

 Now these men have, at the present time, 

 in America no conception of their responsi- 

 bility. Thev flra docile under the rule of 



the promoting college president, and they 

 have a theory of their own function which 

 debars them from militant activity. The 

 average professor in an American college 

 will look on at an act of injustice done to 

 a brother professor by their college presi- 

 dent with the same unconcern as the rabbit 

 who is not attacked watches the ferret pur- 

 sue his brother up and down through the 

 warren to predestinate and horrible death. 

 We know, of course, that it would cost the 

 non-attacked rabbit his place to express 

 sympathy for the martyi'; and the non- 

 attacked is poor, and has offspring, and 

 hopes of advancement. The non-attacked 

 rabbit would, of course, become a suspect, 

 and a marked man the moment he lifted 

 up his voice in defense of rabbit-rights. 

 Such personal sacrifice seems to be the 

 price paid in this world for doing good of 

 any kind. I am not, however, here raising 

 the question of general ethics; I refer to 

 the philosophical belief, to the special the- 

 ory of professorial ethics which forbids a 

 professor to protect his colleague. I invite 

 controversy on this subject; for I should 

 like to know what the professors of the 

 country have to say on it. It seems to me 

 that there exists a special prohibitory code, 

 which prevents the college professor from 

 using his reason and his pen as actively as 

 he ought in protecting himself, in pushing 

 his interests and in enlightening the com- 

 munity about our educational abuses. The 

 professor in America seems to think that 

 self-respect requires silence and discretion 

 on his part. He thinks that by nursing this 

 gigantic reverence for the idea of pro- 

 fessordom, such reverence will, somehow, 

 be extended all over society, till the pro- 

 fessor becomes a creature of power, of 

 public notoriety, of independent reputa- 

 tion as he is in Germany. In the mean- 

 time, the professor is trampled upon, his 

 interests are ignored, he is over-worked and 



