290 SPENCER FULLERTON BAIRD 
work much better than when I began, and I do promise that if I send 
any more collections to the S. I. they shall be more worthy. I have 
stated that I am importuned to donate my future collections to the 
Royal Museum of Paris. If I am rightly informed, I might expect to 
be supplied by the Directors of that Institution with some important 
facilities. But I do not desire to divert to a foreign depository the 
collections that belong naturally to my own country. It cannot be 
denied, however, that Prof. Henry in the Sixth annual report of the 
Regents speaks rather disparagingly of Collections, and his tone 
seems to prognosticate a day when they will not even be received as 
gifts. This reminds me that my own collections which I am about to 
send, may be, after all my labor, but a cumbersome and unwelcome 
donation—a not very comforting apprehension, I assure you. I hope 
if my collections are worth anything, they will be worth copies of 
some of the publications of the S. I. under the head of “Contribu- 
tions to Knowledge”—such I mean as relate to Natural History. 
I have indeed received such as are distributed to Meteorological 
Observers,—but the most desirable to me I have not seen. 
How I long to see you and the collections you have!—and to be 
once in the atmosphere of the Smithsonian Institution, and around 
which cluster and crowd so many associations and hopes and aspira- 
tions! If I could once step within its threshold, it seems to me my 
eager eyes and ears and understanding would drink in a world of 
wonders and knowledge—and that scientific atmosphere! How 
refreshingly would it be inhaled. . . . Forgive my enthusiasm;— 
even if it exaggerates—I cannot repress it. . . . I feel an almost 
irresistible longing and drawing towards the centre of so much interest 
as Washington, where I can occasionally see an appreciative friend to 
science—nay, even a Cultivator of science—and more, can have the 
precious privilege of access to books and satiating the desire to know, 
not something unknown to the world, but simply what so many other 
men of science already know, while I here am compelled to dole out 
days and years in anxious and painful ignorance—I feel it—my occu- 
pation is not sufficiently scientific, and I must,—by my constitution 
I shall be compelled to enter another sphere. You will laugh—no, you 
have too much of a kindred nature to do that,—you will then sym- 
pathize—Well, thank you for sympathy. How I should like to be 
attached to an Exploring Expedition! : 
But I have wearied your patience over and over again. I beg you 
