554 
PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY OF WASHINGTON. 
In 1875 I was so happy as to be adjudged worthy to sit down in the 
outer row of the elect, among the lay brethren; to deposit my hat and 
overcoat in the ante-chamber; to adjust my collar, and to keep silent while 
my elders spake. This awful place was in the Army Medical Museum, 
on Tenth street. It had previously been the temple of religion, was after¬ 
ward dedicated to the Muses, but now it was the national medicine lodge. 
The great sachem, Joseph Henry, presided with imperial dignity. The 
dim lights burning in that ancient estufa shone upon his countenance, 
and all that sat in the council, looking steadfastly on him, saw his face as 
it had been the face of an angel. 
I remember as though it were yesterday where I used to sit, next to the 
wizard in cabalistic geometry, General Alvord, and around was war Cap¬ 
tain Dutton, the ingenious sachem Bates, the astrologer Harkness, and 
the reverend prophet Taylor. 
The somniferous atmosphere of that sacred wigwam at this very moment 
seems to invade my nostrils, in spite of the delightful odors of this feast. 
Tier after tier of ancient writings rise before my imagination, and the 
authors leap forth from the red and green bindings as they used to do 
years ago upon my waking dreams. Some of these authors were armed 
with knives and saws and bandages, while others were equipped with 
mortars and pestles and galipots, and still another set flourished their 
sheets of war records. At times the authors of the books and the readers 
of papers got mixed in my imagination, and the gentleman who had the 
floor seemed to be sawing and pounding away at their communications 
like faithful students of medicine. There were several members who in¬ 
variably went to sleep, and one of them, whose name I never learned, 
had the comical habit of snoring his applause or disappointment of the 
papers that were read. 
It was in the year 1879 that three of the members of this sacred order 
of the Cosmos went forth to set up a new kiwa or council chamber in the 
south tower of the Smithsonian Institution. There was the great medi¬ 
cine man, Dr. Toner; the learned picture-writer and gesture-speaker, 
Colonel Mallery, and myself. We were soon followed by the distinguished 
war chief, Major Powell, who had lost his right arm in defending the 
tribal hunting grounds; the famous arrow-maker, Dr. Robert Fletcher; 
the learned herb doctor, Professor Ward, and others whom I do not recall. 
From the delightful associations of the Tenth-street wigwam these men 
went forth.to set up a new prytaneum, to establish a new hestia for science. 
There was a rumor of schism and whispers of treason and prophecies of 
disaster, but not one of these men lost his affection for the old “focus” 
and the parent Society. They only did what has gone on since the birth 
of society. They borrowed a portion of the central fire, they kindled a 
new fire elsewhere, they returned at stated times to receive fresh impetus 
from the iEdes Vestse, and sought to become in themselves the center of 
new colonies devoted to the worship of truth. 
Since 1879 other bands of young warriors and sachems have repeated 
the process. The little one has become a thousand, and the small one a 
strong nation. 
