June 9, 1916] 



SCIENCE 



811 



tions of students, is the high privilege of the 

 university investigator. 



It is a point of view that seems to separate 

 him from the ordinary interests of men, but 

 to separate oneseK from the vast majority of 

 one's f ellov^s in denying the ordinary ambition 

 for place or for wealth; to devote oneself to 

 the research for truth, with no expectation of 

 recognition, except from a select coterie of 

 colleagues ; to spend one's energy upon investi- 

 gations that will neither interest nor benefit 

 mankind, except as they gradually enlarge the 

 boundaries of knowledge, is a spirit distinctly 

 fostered by the university. 



In these days the demand that investigators 

 shall be of practical service is swelling into 

 a universal chorus. This demand fails to rec- 

 ognize the fact that to meet immediate need is 

 relatively a superficial problem; and that the 

 more fundamental the problem, the wider are 

 its possible applications. For thousands of 

 years the superficial problems of plant-breed- 

 ing were attacked, and agriculture became a 

 reasonably successful practise; but when such 

 fundamental problems as evolution and hered- 

 ity came to be attacked, an incidental result 

 was a revolution of practical plant-breeding. 



The study of anything that holds no rela- 

 tion to the needs or convenience of mankind is 

 peculiarly difficult of comprehension by the 

 American public, and the general sentiment is 

 either opposed or at most indifferent to it. 

 This feeling is emphasized by the development 

 and rapid growth of technological schools, in 

 connection with which there has developed one 

 of our most serious problems. It can hardly 

 be denied that the rigidity of the old American 

 college in denying this form of special train- 

 ing its proper place, and thus controlling its 

 prerequisites, forced the establishment of 

 schools of applied science with no educational 

 basis. And now the universities are con- 

 fronted with the problem of incorporating this 

 form of training into their organization with- 

 out weakening it. 



There must be the pursuit of science for its 

 own sake, for it is the life-blood of a univer- 

 sity; and there must be the application of 

 science, for this is the genius of the age. Can 



these two exist together in the same university 

 organization, and with mutual profit? The 

 grave danger is that the essential function of 

 a university may be given less opportunity to 

 develop than certain subsidiary functions. 

 The time has come, however, when the barrier 

 between pure and applied science is more arti- 

 ficial than real, when each is essential to the 

 best development of the other. Applied sci- 

 ence is becoming so grounded in pure science 

 that the former is only one of the natural ex- 

 pressions of the latter ; and applied science has 

 passed through its empirical stage and can ad- 

 vance now only as it cultivates pure science. 

 The problem, therefore, is not so much one 

 of grafting, as of cross-fertilization, that the 

 strength of both may be combined in a single 

 organization. 



Perhaps it is fitting in this connection to 

 sound a note of warning. In these days of effi- 

 ciency, when university faculties are being 

 checked up on the basis of the number of stu- 

 dents and the number of hours spent vsdth 

 them, there is grave danger that efficiency of 

 this type may be secured at the expense of in- 

 vestigation; in other words, that the teaching 

 function of the university may be exalted 

 above its research function. This would be 

 disastrous, but it is certainly true that the at- 

 mosphere of business efficiency is not the at- 

 mosphere in which investigation can flourish, 

 for research knows no limits of time and 

 strength and numbers of students. 



The normal atmosphere of a university is 

 investigation; and the method of instruction is 

 through companionship in investigation. The 

 appropriation of previous knowledge is no 

 longer the chief purpose, but is entirely sub- 

 sidiary to the discovery of additions to knowl- 

 edge; and the ability to stimulate students to 

 investigate becomes the chief problem of teach- 

 ing. This truth is so fundamental that with- 

 out it there can be no universities distinct 

 from colleges, no matter how prolonged the 

 instruction may be. The distinction is one of 

 controlling purpose; in the one case it is 

 chiefly acquisition; in the other case it is 

 chiefly the development of initiative. In other 

 words, we are equipped to teach through in- 



