.No Division Rane Received l^niversity of, California. UJfl VEBSITY OF MISSO URL PUBLIC LECTURES DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI, COLUMBIA, MISSOURI, BY MEMBERS OF THE FACULTY. ''HUMuY 1878-79. 'r!|.ir,,' ; ' s -,.; COURSE II. VOLUME I. 1879: Statetman Book and Job Print, Columbia, Mo. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by D. R. McANALLY, JR., Agent of the Faculty of the University of Missouri, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. PREFACE. Believing that the threefold relation existing be- tween themselves; the students under their care and the state, demanded something more than the ordinary class- room work at their hands, the members of the Faculty of the University of Missouri two years ago determined to prepare a series of lectures, illustrative of the special- ties of the various departments, and sufficiently popular in character to be attractive not only to the undergrad- uates, but also to the public at large. The first course, delivered in the University Chapel during the winter of 1877-78, was pronounced so successful that the Faculty felt encouraged to enter upon a second, and this, in turn, was received with indications of popular approval so flattering in character that it was resolved to publish the entire second series. This volume is the result of that determination. The lectures herein contained, while de- signed primarily for the students of the University, nev- ertheless it is believed do not lack certain elements of popularity which render them, at least in some de- gree, adapted to the wants of the reading public. To that public this book is now presented with the hope that the original purpose of the lectures will be held in remembrance, and with the expectation that succeeding volumes will prove more worthy of the appreciation al- ready so kindly manifested by the friends of the Univer- sity in behalf of this first effort. THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI, ) COLUMBIA, BOONE COUNTY, Mo., 1879. \ OF PAGE. Petroleum Paul Schweitzer, - - .S Evolution and Creation G. C. Swallow, 65 Insect Ways S. M. Tracy, - - 93 Mathematics Joseph Ficklin, 115 Three Pronunciations of Latin M. M. Fisher, - - - 147 Mosaic Cosmogony A. Mejrowitz, 173 The Legend of Virginia P. Bliss, - - 181 Linguistic Curiosities D. R. McAnally, - . . . . 207 Arnold of Rugby Grace C. Bibb, - - 239 The Professional School T. J. Lowry, - 263 The Ideal of Art George C. Bingham, 311 Metaphysics S. S. Laws, 325 Advantages of Classical Study A. F. Fleet, - - - - 421 Study of Language J. S. Blackwell, '.-.--, - - - 449 Art Conrad Diehl, 473 1/llUvAKY F PETROLEUM. BY PAUL SCHWEITZER, PH. D., PROFESSOR OF CHEM- ISTRY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Lecture delivered on the 8th of February, 1879, in the pres- ence of a joint committee of the Legislature, sent to examine into the condition and wants of the University, and written for publi- cation about five months afterward. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: I consider it a privi- lege to be able to occupy this stand to-night, for the 8th of February is a memorable day in the history of our University, of our town and of our state. It has proba- bly escaped the memory of most of you, and I take pleasure in reminding you of it, that to-day is the forty- first anniversary of the birth of our University. On the 8th of February, 1839, the bill "to provide for the insti- tution and support of the State University," drawn up and urged by patriotic and far-seeing citizens, became a law by the signature of the Governor. Men in our own midst took an active part in the proceedings, and it was mainly due to their efforts, aided by active co-operation of large-hearted and generous citizens of our county and town, that the University was located here and the law carried into effect without delay. In how far the expectations of the founders of the University, of the fathers of many of you here assembled to-night, have been realized, it is not for me to speak; (5 UNIVERSITY OP MISSOURI. suffice it, to point to the growing interest in our State University, manifested by press and pulpit, to the foster- ing care, confidently expected at the hands of our Leg- islature, and to this audience, willing and anxious to dis- cuss a subject, which from its national importance as well as from the dangers to property and life, surround- ing it, claims at the present moment the attention of the citizens of the state, and especially of our Legislature, in session at Jefferson City, and contemplating, I am in- formed, a change in the law relating to the inspection of Petroleum. HI REYpEw AL Petroleum, as the name implies, means rock oil, and is the oily, more or less volatile liquid, which exudes at different places on our globe from the rock or ground below, having as such been known and used for different purposes from very early times. It was known to the ancient Egyptians and Assyrians, who obtained it from the valley of the Euphrates and the neighborhood of Baku. It was mentioned 2,000 years ago by Herodotus as occurring on the island of Zante, and later by Pliny and Dioscorides under the name of Sicilian oil as coming from Agrigentum; but to name all the localities, where in the course of time Petroleum was discovered and used, would lead too far, and I will mere- ly state that the earliest mention of its occurrence in our own country was made in 1750 in a report of the com- mander of Fort Duquesne to General Montcalm, describ- ing the ceremonies of the Seneca Indians on Oil Creek, Pa. Twenty years later Peter Kalm gave a map of the Pennsylvania Oil Springs in his "Travels in North America," published in 1772, and in 1819 oil was obtain- ed by accidental! sinking two salt wells on the Musking- hum river, Ohio, the same thing happening in 1829 at Burkesville, Ky.; in 1833 Prof. Silliman described the LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 7 Seneca Oil spring(*) of Cuba, Alleghany county, N. Y., and Hildreth the salt wells of the Little Kanawha val- ley, West Va., which yielded in 1836 from 50 to 100 barrels of Petroleum, which was collected and sold as medicine. In 1840 a spouting well at Burkesville, Ky., yielded for a few days seventy-five gallons of oil a minute, but soon failed; in 1844 Murray mentions it as occurring at Enniskillan, Canada, and in 1850, scarcely 30 years ago, the first illuminating oil, made from crude Petroleum, was offered for sale by Samuel Kier at Pittsburgh. Since then the number of localities in the United States, at which Petroleum is found, has rapidly increas- ed, and the improvements in lamps for burning it, to- gether with the introduction in 1856 of genuine coal oil(f) for illuminating purposes, made by Joshua Mer- rill of Boston, gave an impetus to the production and manufacture of Petroleum and coal oil, which in the course of a few years not only completely revolutionized the manner of lighting our houses, but changed the di- rection and thoughts of thousands and hundreds of thou- ands of human beings. Old trades were broken up and new ones started; men grew rich over night to get poor again on the day following; excitement, even in those days of excitement and civil war, ran high, and multitudes of men changed their modes of life with their habitations ; and now after these days of expectation and excitement have past away, and the currents of life and trade run again in smooth and well defined channels, what results are there (*) The so-called Seneca Oil, used for medicinal purposes was not from this spring, but from Oil Creek, Pa. (f) Made by destructive distillation of bitumen, bituminous coal, shale or like material. 8 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. left to tell of the great spasmodic and powerful effort of so many men? Light has been brought to millions of people; their hours of day have been lengthened ; pine knots and tallow dips have given way to the cheap and cheerful lamp; and last but not least, the old dreary and unprofitable winter evenings of farm house and cottage have been replaced by pleasant hours of recreation and civilizing influences of music, improvement and study. And this boon of cheap and pleasant light has not been given alone to our own countrymen, but its blessings ex- tend to the remotest corners of our globe, witnesses of American enterprise and industry, and possible perhaps through the concurrence of exceedingly fortunate cir- cumstances in our land. Yet these changes did not occur without convul- sions. Their beginnings may be traced to the 28th of August, 1859, when Col. G. L. Drake, the superinten- dent of the Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company, thinking to obtain oil like water by sinking an artesian well, car- ried out this idea amid the jeers and jokes of his neigh- bors, and on that day "struck oil" at a depth of 71 feet, and collected a thousand gallons a day, which sold at the rate of sixty cents a gallon or twenty-three dollars a barrel. From that moment the scene changes as if by magic; the doubting neighbors are gone; the sur- rounding wilderness, broken only by an occasional cottage and cornfield, shows signs of life; men of business, tramps and travelers appear, attracted by rumors of unheard of riches, quickly, easily and cer- tainly acquired. They come first singly like the drops of a passing shower, but soon swell to a current like a mountain tream after a rain, and at last pass into a rushing flood of LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZEK. 9 humanity, pressing eagerly and anxiously onward to surely expected wealth and fortune. Hillside and valley are stripped of covering; log house and shanty grow up over night; hand and machine are busy to tap the earth of its liquid treasure. A forest of derricks is seen where but yesterday was a forest of trees; all is work- ing, drilling, pumping, collecting and shipping. By the end of the year 200 oil wells are sunk and in operation, and the work still continues and is to continue for years to come(3). Places grow tip and disappear like mush- rooms; the history of the world, probably, shows not an- other phase like it; within the short space of three months a place of two houses becomes a town of 1,600 inhabi- tants with virtues and vices, joys and sorrows, piety and profanity. And in less than a year, through failure of wells, through fire, death and removal, all had disap- peared so effectually, that the passing wanderer was scarcely able to point out in the desolation and growing brush, where once stood the town of Pithole. This was the time and these the symptoms of the oil fever, a repetition of the gold fever of 12 years before, and in its results, I am sure, much more beneficial. True, men got rich and got poor again ; but if the golden cup, after the first taste, slipped from their grasp and despair led them to ruin, they were only a few in comparison with the rest, and followed the inexorable law, which says that conscious effort is required in retaining, as well as in attaining, what is desirable in life. Scarcely one of the farmers in the neighborhood of Oil Creek, who in the space of a few months became possessed of half a million or a million of dollars, was able to keep it long; incompetence, extravagance and carelessness spent the money as fast as it came, and in a few years the original owners of the land were found in no way better off, than they had been before. 10 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. The immediate effect of this large and sudden in- fttix of ambitious and energetic men into the Pennsyl- vania oil district, all bent upon obtaining a large quantity of Petroleum was of course an overproduction with con- sequent fall of prices; and it is surely no wonder, when we bear in mind that most of the rock oil obtained pre- viously had been used for medicinal purposes only. In 1852 Coal oil was made by Philbrick and Atwood of Waltham, Mass., for the first time in the United States and offered for sale in the market, (Coup oil, from the coup' d'etat of Napoleon), but it was used for purposes of lubrication, and not till 1856 was an illuminating oil of like nature made and sold here, though it had previous- ly been imported and used to a limited extent. This gen- uine Coal oil differs however materially from Petroleum in having a greater specific gravity, in consequence of which it could be burned with little or no alteration in the old fashioned oil lamps. It was superior as an illum- inator and cheapar than any of the fatty oils and explo- sive mixtures used then, and the industry spread until in 1860 14 establishments for producing Kerosene(*) were scattered over the Atlantic States and produced 100,- ooo barrels of it a year worth $2,142,693. Most of this remained, however, in the east, the west and south using the old materials in the old lamps. In this condition of affairs Pennsylvania steps sud- denly in with 250,000 barrels of oil, raising this produc- tion the next year to two millions, the year after to 3 millions, and going up from year to year until the stu- penduous figures of to-day are reached(i). What wonder that the price of Petroleum, for which there was no market (*) A superior brand of coal oil, the name being derived from two Greek words KER, the heart, and OZAINA the odor. LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 11 because there was no use, should decline; it fell rapidly from $20 a barrel in 1859 to $9.60 in 1860, to $0.49 in 1861, and even for a portion of this and the following year to $0.10 a barrel, in some instances the barrel included. It was then that about 5 million barrels cf oil were allowed to. run waste into the creeks and rivers, which by getting ignited at times, through carelessness or accident, caused conflagrations that threatened the very existence of towns and villages in their course, and destroyed millions and millions of property. But the industry, so auspiciously started, could not be checked ; it possessed within itself all the elements of ultimate success. A cheap, reliable and brilliant source of light was needed outside of the larger towns all over the country; and since Professor Silli- man in 1855 in the first practical report ever made on Petroleum, had clearly pointed out its advantages and its mode of treatment for obtaining the best results, it was simply for American ingenuity to step in, and overcome the difficulties that might be in the way of its successful employment. Lamps for it had to be invented, and presently we see the inventor at work. The first patent for a Petroleum lamp, so-named, was issued in 1859, and during the year the total number of grants for patents of lamps, burners and appliances in general rose to 40, the next year to 71, the next to 53, the one after that to 101, and so on regularly up to the present time. (2) The difficulties in the construction of lamps and burners for Petroleum, rested mainly on its low specific gravity and high percentage of carbon, and were over- come almost at the outset. Some of the burners described and patented then were never improved upon and the continuity of the stream of patents up to the present day, though demonstrating that the perfect burner and perfect lamp have not been invented yet, demonstrates 12 UNIVERSITY OP MISSOURI. also that its construction must be attempted upon a dif- ferent and novel principle. The relatively successful solution of this problem had, however, an immediate and rather important prac- tical result: it killed in the first instance at one blow the Whale oil fisheries, which had flourished so long on .the Atlantic coast, New England alone sending out annually a fleet of 600 whaling vessels; and it stopped in the second instance, the Coal oil distilleries that had just started into successful existence, and converted them into Petroleum refineries, perpetuating thereby the name of Kerosene, by transmitting it from the artificial to the natural pro- duct. The price of oil rose again, and more powerful ef- forts were made for its possession, and with such uccess that soon all means for storing or carrying it to market failed ; single wells spouted at the rate of 3,000 barrels a day(*) with no provision to collect it or stop its flow. Tanks of novel construction were used: the natural basins formed by building dams across valleys, and conducting the oil into them as into lakes. Energy and enter- prise, however, soon provided suitable vessels; wood- en and iron tanks, increasing yearly in size until at pres- ent many of them have a capacity of 125,000 barrels. At the same time a project that had once failed was taken up again and carried into successful operation; it was the laying of wrought-iron conduit pipes directly from the wells to the railroad stations. This was ac- complished with the usual energy, connecting f. e. Mil- lerstown with Pittsburgh, 32 miles distant, by means of a three inch pipe, laid at the rate of a mile a day and tested within the same time for a pressure of 1200 pounds per (*) The Phillips and Empire wells, sunk in 1861, which have yielded upward of a half a million barrels each . LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 13 square inch. Like a huge snake it runs over the surface of the country, down valleys and up hills, crossing on its way 27 turnpikes and as many creeks and rivers, one of which and a railroad track pass above it ; watched day and night in its entire length, it is furnished with six interme- diate stations, at each of which a 40 horse power steam engine raises the oil to an elevated tank of 1500 barrels capacity, from where it flows by gravity to the next sta- tion. This arrangement is found necessary to speedy transportation, though Millerstown is 335 feet higher than Pittsburgh. The system, which of all so far devised is the cheap- est, has grown to grand dimensions. The whole Penn- sylvania oil district is intersected by a network of pipes, the aggregate length of which was 3,000 miles on the first of January, 1879. They are under the control of 15 companies, who from time to time form pools under the name of "The United Pipe Lines," which dissolve again as their interests diverge or mutually conflict(*). (*) [StowelPs Petroleum Reporter, Dec. 16, 1878.] UNITED PIPE LINES. We clip the following in regard to the organization and busi- ness capacity of the United Pipe Lines, from their recent report , addressed to their patrons and the public : ORGANIZATION. The United Pipe Line Company was organized in 1877 by a consolidation between the following companies, viz: The (old) United Pipe Lines, the Antwerp and Oil City Pipe Companies,the Atlantic Pipe Company, the American Transfer Company, (in Clarion and Venango counties,) and the Sandy Pipe Line. These formed the association now known as the United Pipe Lines, which was incorporated in March, 1877, with a capital of three million dollars. CAPACITY OF THE LINES. At the present time, October, 1878, the company owns, and hrs in active operation, over fifteen hundred (1,500) miles of two (2) inch pipe, and three hundred (300) miles of three (3) and four (4) inch pipe. It has connected with these pipes, more than three hundred and fifty (350) iron tanks, with a capacity of over 5,200,- 14 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. The business of these pipes and transportation lines is at present so widely extended, that delivery tanks are found in nearly all eastern refining centres, and a pipe line certificate for any number of barrels of oil bought at Piitsburgh, enables the holder to draw this quantity arty where in the east. These sales used to be effected by measure alone, and resulted in so much annoy- ance to both buyer and seller, that all transactions are made at present by weight alone in refined as well as in crude oil, and the price and quantity adjusted in accordance with certain well-defined rules about specific gravity, fire test and color. ooo barrels of forty-two (42) gallons each, of which 1,800,- ooo barrels are owned by the company, and 3, 400,000 barrels held by them under contract with the owners. It owns over eight hun- dred (800) miles of telegraph wire connecting all its offices and stations with each other, and with the general office of the compa- ny at Oil City, Pennsylvania. It is fully equiped with boilers, pumps, and all necessary means for receiving and transporting to delivery points, at least seventy-five thousand (75,000) barrels of oil per day. It has points of delivery upon all railroads in the Oil Regions, "at which twenty-five hundred (2,500) cars, containing two hundred and twenty-five thousand (225,000) barrels can be loaded daily; and can also'deliver directly to refineries at Oil City, Pa. [Stowell's Petroleum Reporter, June 16, '79.] TIDE WATER PIPE CO. LIMITED OPENED. At four o'clocK in the afternoon of May 28th the monster pump of the Tide Water Pipe Co. Limited was set in motion at Corryville, and the first oil entered the pipe and started towards Williamsport, reaching the latter place about 7:10, p. m., on June 4th, one hundred and forty- seven hours and ten minutes after leaving Corryville. The quantity required to fill the pipe was 20,000 bbls. This is the first 6-inch pipe line of any considerable length ever construct- ed. The line is 100 miles long." There are but two pumping stations, one at Corryville, and the other 22^ miles from this place. The highest elevation 1,200 feet is reached about 31 miles east of Cor- ryville, and from this point the oil reaches Williamsport by gravity. The estimated cost of the line is between $700,000 and $806,- ooo. The weight of pipe used is 5,000 tons. The minimum capacity of the line is 6,000 bbls. daily, which can be increased under pres- sure to 10,000 bbls. LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 15 From the railroad stations the oil is carried to the refineries, and there a difficulty was met, growing out of the property of Petroleum, of passing through the pores of the casks in which it was shipped; this caused in the beginning much annoyance and much loss; shipments would be made to New York and Boston, the barrels arriving there only half filled, and whole cargoes would disappear bodily in their passage across the ocean. Many of you doubtless remember, in these early days, the ap- pearance of the oil trains, with their platform cars freight- with barrels, each one perspiring, as it were, from every pore, and leaving behind an oily, offensive and unsavory trail. But the inventor stepped in again, and one of the first patents taken effected the cure. It consisted in cov- ering the inside of the barrels with a coating of liquid glue, forced into the pores of the wood by pressure; the outside is then painted blue, the heads white and the barrel is ready to receive its charge, 42 gallons, more or less, which it retains admirably and for a long time. The immediate effect, however, of the escape of the, oil through the casks, coupled with the need of cheaper transportation, brought about the construction of so-call- ed tank cars, wrought-iron boilers of 85 barrels capacity, on trucks, which proved so convenient in every way that scores of them were built, 2,500 being in use at present in Pennsylvania alone, and probably no less than 5,000 in the United States. At the same time tank-boats were designed, huge floating reservoirs, which hold 3,000 barrels of oil each, and distribute its contents to the dif- ferent points on the river and on the Erie canal. A hun- dred of them are in operation at present during the summer months. 16 UNIVERSITY OP MISSOURI. Having thus sketched the growth of the Petroleum industry, and followed the oil in its course from well to refinery, wo will now take a look at its commercial importance, and then answer the questions of what it is, why and how it is refined, and what should be the safeguards that must be taken, in order to protect its consumers against danger and fraud? A look at the tables(4-6)shows us that the Pennsylvania district produc- ed during the calender year of 1878, 15,165,462 barrels of oil of the value at the wells of $2 1, 689,920, while the rest of the United States produced 44=5,000 barrels valued at $645,250, and that there were exported in the same time 8,071,780 barrels of Petroleum and its products, repre- senting a value of $46,730,972. This export, according to the report of the Chief of the Bureau of Statistics, places Petroleum the fifth in the list of important com- modities sent abroad. (*) During the 20 years preceding, that is since 1859, there have been produced by Pennsyl- vania 111,017,862 barrels of oil valued at $293,872,162, and by the rest of the United States 4,706,500 barrels valued at $12,472,22^, while the total exports reached the equivalent of 54,878,837 barrels with a value of $488,079,842. Truly astonishing figures, which in con- nection with the manufacture and export of lamps and burners and the different industries, directly and indirect- ly bearing upon the production, transportation and refin- ing of Petroleum, indicate the magnitude of the business, and serve to furnish an idea of the great army of men (*) Annual Report of Chief of the Bureau of Statistics on the Commerce and Navigation of the United States, for the fiscal year ended June 30, 1878. STATISTICAL ABSTRACT, page XL. i Cotton, raw, exported ........................... $180,031,484 2. Wheat ......................................... 96,872,016 3. Pork, bacon, hams and lard. ... .................. 86,679,979 4. Indian Corn .................................... 48,030,358 5. Petroleum and products of ....................... 46,574,974 LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 17 that depend upon it for a livelihood for themselves and for their families. COMPOSITION. Petroleum in its natural condition is a rather complicated liquid, exhibiting at the different places of its occurrence differences in aspect, gravity, quality and composition. While the petroleum f. e. from some parts of Europe is light, clear, nearly color- less and odorless and in need of little refining, that of our own country is for the most part thick, greenish black, strongly odorous and totally unfit for immediate use. Our best samples are at the most translucent, yel- lowish or brownish red and exhibit in a marked degree the peculiar phenomenon called fluorescence, which is retained by it even after refinement. Its specific gravity varies from 30 to 32 C B at Franklin, Pa., to 52B at Pomery, Ohio. The differences in the eastern markets are however only 46!$ to 48B, they being supplied with oil, which comes from the distributing tanks of the pipe line companies, and which is a pretty thorough and uniform mixture. The first step in the analysis of Petroleum may be said to have been taken by Unverdorben in 1831, who separated it by fractional distillati6ii into some of its con- stituents. Since then many illustrious chemists have been engaged in the difficult task of unraveling its com- position, difficult for the reason that Petroleum is not a chemical compound, but a mixture of a large number of compounds, some of which are what chemists call iso- meric, that is they possess the same percentage compo- sition of their elements, but different chemical and phys- ical properties. Nearly all the constituents of Petroleum belong to that well defined group of compounds called Hydrocar- bon, contain nothing but Carbon and Hydrogen united 18 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. in different proportions, and of which Marsh gas and Olefiant gas, are examples; both of these are in fact con- stituents of crude Petroleum, but soon escape with oth- ers on account of their volatility ; each is the beginning member of a distinct series of compounds which follow one another regularly and lawfully up to those of a most complicated nature. Fourteen compounds of the Marsh gas or Paraffine series and three of the Olefiaut gas series have so far been identified in Petroleum, without, however, in the least exhausting the stock, which with at least three other substances of a different nature make the total number of compounds in American Petroleum twenty(y). It may be stated in this connection, that none of these compounds belong to groups from which the various and brilliant aniline or naphthaline dyes are de- rived, all statements to the contrary notwithstanding. R /RQCESS. You understand, then, that Petroleum is a complicated body ; and it is owing doubtless to its com- plicated nature that the question as to its origin has not yet been satisfactorily settled. We will discuss, however, neither this nor the other question intimately connected with it, viz: the manner and place of its occurrence, but turn our attention to more practical questions, bear- ing upon the conversion of it into burning oil or kero- sene by the process of refining, which consists not, as might be supposed, in a separation of any or all of the twenty compounds mentioned, but in a separation of a few products of commercial importance with well defin- ed properties and with unlimited powers of application. The work of the chemist is inventive and his object knowledge; the work of the refiner is applicative and his object gain. From this practical point of view, Petroleum may be said to possess properties, many of which must be LECTURE OF PROF, SCHWEITZER. 19 eradicated or at least materially changed, before it will answer the different purposes to which it is applied, and since we desire to confine ourselves to Kerosene oil, we will state here its requirements in the order of their im- portance. A good Kerosene oil should be 1. Safe, that is to say not readily inflammable. 2. Odorless, that is to say not possessing a disagreeable odor. 3. Clean, that is to say not creeping over. 4. Pure, that is to say not encrusting the wick. 5. Light, that is to say not having too high a specific gravity. 6. Colorless. 7. Cheap. Safety is placed at the head and cheapness at the foot of the list, and all have to be reached by the three operations of the refining process, which are : 1. Fractional distillation . 2. Treatment with Chemicals. 3. Washing with water and perhaps another distillation. The first step, fractional distillation, is carried on in large stills, in which the crude oil is subjected to gradu- ally-increased direct heat, and the different products col- lected by suitable arrangements at different parts of the establishment; or the crude oil is steamed to get rid of the more volatile and inflammable gases, and then sub- jected for a number of hours to a uniformly elevated temperature, which need not however approach the boil- ing point of the oil when the heavier ones split up, as it were, into still heavier ones, and in lighter or illuminat- ing oils, increasing thereby tl^eir quantity, or lastly the two processes are combined in various ways to suit the character of the crude oil worked, and the specialty in which one or the other refinery may excel. The percentages of Kerosene obtained by these three modifications A, B and C of the process of frac- tional distillation arc 55 per cent., 66 per cent, and 75 per cent.(S) The last would seem to be the most aclvan- 20 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. tageous, but the quality of the 75 per cent, of oil obtain- ed by it is inferior to the 55 per cent, and 66 per cent, of oil obtained by A and B. Bourgoagnon, one of the Petroleum inspectors of the New York Produce Ex- chano-e, states the amount of burning oil in the crude oil of the New York market to be 60 *per cent, and 66 per cent, obtained by cracking, i. e., partial destruction of the lubricating oil and paraffin is probably the highest amount, which can at present be obtained from Ameri- can Petroleum (9). The Kerosene obtained by the previous operation has now been freed from the light and heavy portion of the crude oil, both being objectionable, the former or naphtha on account of its ready inflammability and the latter or lubricating oil on account of the difficulty of burning it in our ordinary lamps. The first and fifth points in the list of requirements have been covered and the way prepared to reach the others; the oil is still col- ored, possessed of an odor, which if anything is more unpleasant than that of the crude oil, and of ingredients, which if not removed would speedily encrust the wick and weaken its illuminating power. It is run into large cylindrical tanks of 1,800 barrels capacity, where it is agitated for some time with strong sulphuric acid or oil of vitriol in the proportion of 44 gallons of the latter to 100 barrels of the former. The effect of this is to turn black or carbonize, that isidestroy the impurities, which impart to the oil its odor, color and other objectionable features; these subside at the end of the operation with the oil of vitriol, and are removed by a faucet at the bottom of the agitator. Water and caustic soda lye are then added in proper quantity to neutralize the acid, which may have remain- ed suspended in the oil, after which the washing with LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 21 water is continued to remove the last traces of saline and tarry matter remaining. The oil is then ready for the market, either directly, or after subjecting it to some minor operations, as exposing it for some hours to diffused daylight and bleaching it, or even distilling it for a second and lasj time. PROTECTION. It is now the refined or Kerosene oil of commerce, and supposing the operations mentioned to have been performed judiciously and conscientiously, possessed of the desired qualities; it can be placed in the hands of the consjmer without fear and without risk, a messenger of joy and of enlightenment. But has this been the experience of the world, and our own expe- rience? have complaints about quality or price of it never reached us? have accidents from unexpected ignition or explosion of oil, even when carefully handled, never been recorded? Alas, we know too well the an- swer to these questions, and though we will not attribute all accidents to inferior illuminating oils, a large number are undoubtedly chargeable to them, and to the parties who placed them either fraudulently or ignorantly on the market; a long and melancholy record testifies loudly to error or crime committed. Our wives and children on whom the danger from inferior oils with its consequences mainly falls, call for protection, and when the state steps in for the very purpose of affording it, can political consideration or sec- tional feeling, can protective legislation, that protects the few at the expense of the many, or even ignorance of the subject on the part of those who frame the laws, be set up as an excuse for scattering broadcast those messen- gers of harm, which by bearing upon their face the license and stamp of the law, lull the buyer into a feel- ing of security, false and illusory, worse than the knowl- edge of imminent danger? 22 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. These remarks apply to all oils sold before the time of Petroleum legislation, and to the oils still in many of our states, in which legislation has attempted protection, or at least regulation; it is a fact that a large propor- tion of the oils sold in our own state during the past four years have been unsafe and have not come up to the requirements of the lavu(io). This has been brought about in the first instance by want of knowledge of the character and properties of Petroleum on the part of leg- islators, coal oil inspectors and the public in general ; and in the second instance, to say the least by too broad legisla- tion. I would state it as an axiom, which I challenge any one to contradict: that the interests of the rejiner and dealer must adjust themselves upon the basis of se- curity to the masses, not this to interests outside and different from its own. In the absence of strictly scien- tific tests and with the one generally employed at pres- ent the oil should be made to appear as bad as possible, and not as good as possible, and in this light we will try to determine what constitutes a safe oil and the method of ascertaining its safety. An explosion is a rapid or practically instantaneous production in a confined space of a large volume of gas, which acts on account of its elasticity upon its enclosure, and forces it in the direction of least resistance, or shatters it to pieces. Ordinarily explosions are the direct result of chemical action, as when a combustible body, intimately mixed with Oxygen or a substance readily furnishing it, comes in contact with a light; the combus- tion results in the formation of a large body of gas which in proportion to its volume exerts an explosive force. Coal oil or naphtha can, therefore, never explode by themselves; Oxygen or atmospheric air is needed to form with them a mixture ; and since gases and fluids do LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 23 not mix, it follows that Coal oil must first assume the gaseous state or be volatilized before the conditions for an explosion can be reached ; in proportion now as coal oil is ready to do this the chances for the explosion in- crease. But it is within the nature of things, that evapora- tion increases with increase of temperature, that coal oil becomes gaseous or yields a vapor in proportion as it gets warmer; and the main practical difference between it and naphtha lies in the fact, that while the latter as- sumes the gaseous condition and will take fire or ex- plode when mixed with air at the low temperatures of our winters, the former requires heating to a variable extent to produce the same result. It has been ascer- tained that oil after burning in well constructed lamps for several hours rises 10 degrees higher than the tem- perature of the surrounding air, and since this is occa- sionally in our latitude 100 Fahrenheit, it follows that the oil may then be of the temperature of 110 Fahrenheit. At or rather below this temperature no oil should disen- gage a combustible vapor in such quantities as to take fire on the approach of a light, for should it do so, the mixture of this vapor with atmospheric air will surely result in an explosion. 110 Fahrenheit should therefore be fixed as the minimum point of safety for all burning oils. But if temperature is the measure of safety for an oil, why not make it 180 or 200 Fahrenheit; a greater degree of safety would be reached and accidents become rare or perhaps unknown: simply because the advan- tages reached on the one hand are offset by corres- ponding greater disadvantages on the other; the oil would become dearer and be of much less illuminating power than it has at present, for this depends, all things considered, on its fluidity or lightness, which is propor- 24 UNIVBKSITY OF MISSOURI. tional to its safety. A word may be said here in regard to patent preparations and patent lamps for rendering naphtha and unsafe oils safe. All such contrivances are utterly useless. No unsafe oil can be made safe by any preparation and will not be safe to burn in any lamp, even if called a safety lamp; but a safe oil will be safe always and in all lamps. No fear need be had that by making the law strin- gent and protection real, the price of oil would rise to any great extent or rise at all. The so-called 150 fire test oil was sold during the past winter at 25 cents a gal- lon, and so was the no fire test oil, kept by unscrupu- lous dealers in contravention of the spirit if not of the letter of the law. Pratt's Astral oil, a superior brand of Kerosene manufactured in New York, could be had at the same time at 18 cents a gallon, wholesale, and was quoted in the markets 2 to 3 cents higher than 150 and 8 to 9 cents higher than no fire test oil; these latter brands sold, therefore, at 16 and 10 cents a gallon re- spectively, making with an addition of 3*^ cents a gallon freight from New York to St. Louis, their prices in the latter city 191^ and 13^ cents (n). The difference between 19^ and 25 or 5^ cents represents the legitimate profit on each gallon of 150 fire test oil, to be divided between wholesale and retail dealer; if the latter now sells no fire test oil at the price of the former, he charges 6 cents a gallon additional, to which he has no right a fraud which he is enabled to perpetrate solely in consequence of a miserable law, already two years in existence, aided in it by the ignor- ance of the buyer, who fails to appreciate the difference between a superior and an inferior oil. What amount this seemingly little sum of 6 cents a gallon grows up to in the course of a year is realized by bearing in mind LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 2& that our state consumes 4,200,000 gallons ot oil, on which we are thus unrighteously taxed 252,000 dollars. The objection that this estimate is too high since 150 fire test oil is sold in our state, can hardly be considered valid, for out of thirteen samples sold at Columbia one only was marked 150 fire test, and even this fell 36 degrees short, and Columbia is perhaps no worse off in this re- spect than other parts of the State. " B r% F If we adopt then 110 Fahrenheit as the lowest temperature at which an oil may be permitted to emit an inflammable vapor, how shall we go about to ascertain the fact? Numerous methods have been pro- posed to this end, but without entering into a discussion of them or their principles, I will merely state, that the one universally adopted, at present, is based on an exper- ment in which a direct observation is taken of the flash- ing point. A few ounces of oil are gradually heated in a simply constructed apparatus, and the temperature ob- served at which vapor is given off from its surface in sufficient quantity to produce, on the approach of a light- ed taper or gas jet, a flash or flicker of light. The experiments to give uniform results, should of course be made in a uniform manner; and the law should describe the manner in detail for the guidance of inspectors, so as to prevent all ambiguity in its execution; a failure in this, as experience has proven, makes the law useless and the officers acting under it liable to the charges of grave irregularities. In making a test, f. e., with a few ounces of oil within 10 or 15 minutes, the lighter portions will be given off within that time, and produce a flash say at 90 Fahrenheit; in repeating the experiment now, but with this difference, that the oil is heated so gradually that 45 minutes are required to bring it to the same temperature as before, the lighter 26 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. portions are given off much slower, and may not pro- duce a flash at all. The test should likewise be termed the flashing test and the temperature at which it occurs the flashing point, and the old term fire test, still used an some of the states, avoided; for fire test may mean cither the flashing test, already described, or the con- tinuation of the test until the oil itself takes fire and con- tinues to burn, known as the burning test; and in the .absence of a clear statement by law, the choice between the two meanings is left to the discretion of the inspec- tors. There is no necessary connection between the two tests, whatever. The burning test may be high and the flashing test low; but if the flashing test is high the burning test must of necessity be high also. A glance at the table (12) exhibits sufficiently the judgment of other states in this matter, and I leave it to this audience to decide whether the intelligence that framed the laws of England, Indiana, Ohio, Michigan, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and New York, is offset by the intelli- gence of Vermont, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Illinois, Georgia, Maine and Missouri. But I feel I have kept you already too long and znust hasten to a conclusion. I am aware that I have omitted from this discussion many points that deserved mention, and treated others, perhaps, less fully than was expected. If I have erred in this direction I beg your indulgence; my purpose was to entertain you and to convince you of the need of speedy and better legis- tion looking to the protection of Coal oil consumers in more than one direction; if I have succeeded in this my purpose has been accomplished. Should any one of you desire to know more of the details of the subject, I am ready cheerfully to furnish them as far as they are in my possession, and this I would specially wish of the mem- JLECTUBE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 27 bers of the legislature that may be present, to whom I now take the liberty of presenting a draft of a bill which may serve as a guide in framing a new Coal oil law, worthy to represent Missouri in the sister- hood of states, and which I hope and trust wilt be en- acted and given us by the legislature during the present session(i3). UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. DIAGRAM, TABLES AND STATEMENTS. The reference to Table No. i in the test is misplaced and should have been given seven lines above at the end of the para- graph. LECTURE OP PROF. SCHWEITZER. Graphic Exhibition of some of the tables. 29 30 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. LECTURE OP PROF. SCWEITZER. 8. NUMBER OF PATENTS issued in the United States on oil burners, vapor burners and ap- pliances to lamps in general, growing out of the introduction and general use of Petroleum and its products, collated from the Re- ports of the U. S. Patent Office(*). STO 5T< ;> H Value of lamps 3 ~ 3^ 2 o ^ and burners ex- v> o* 1 1 E ported. YEARS. 1 e n n n 3 OS X Intro duced w here for want p g of a better a a placed). l8 59(t) 23 12 5 40 1860 - 31 32 8 71 1861 .... 4 5 8 53 1862 77 3 31 IOI 1863 59 -7 88 1864 7 1 4 i j 86 1865 .... 33 3 27 63 1866 . .-- 84 7 44 135 1867 .... 1868 S 2 1 06 ii 4 f - 55 1 86 $ 65,772 1869 59 25 51 135 167,883. 1870 - 57 39 56 I tJ2 168,008 1871 65 20 }6 131 160,198 1872 63 n 36 no 232,055. 1873 - 1874 - 49 36 7 5' 90 9^ 287,215. 168,231 1875 83 7' J 54 207,721 1876 - --- 79 88 167 188,838 1877 - - - 1878 78 24 22 79 5 r > 179 84 243,373. 245,377 (*) From this list are excluded all patents relating to lanterns,, signal lights and burners and lamps based on illuminating material other than Petroleum or its products. (f) In this year the first patent was issued in which the word Petroleum occurs. (ty An estimation of the capital invested in the manufacture of lamps, I was unable to obtain. UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. 3. STATISTICAL TABLES OF PENNSYLVANIA OIL WELLS(). 5' ^ . ^ g- H-j C t-J 3' y* B* 1 ^ 3 > (^ Zr* o o 2. Js re n> < < ( ^ t^, C2 TT 1 p" v T r^ 3 ' < ^ 2 p c/> 3 v, fl> ^ 3 ~ C """ ^ 3 *| o 8 n ^ cL^s z c ^ i- p d r* C ^ fft P 5 '| 5 3 3 n P p' r3 /^ 2. p_ a* 1-1 CD P C 1^ cra^ 3' t 3 -! s 3 '< a. YEARS, 5. era 1 P: era p- ft) C 3 o **1 3* 3 t ( 3J ^ S- QTQ 3 xj *< ^ , c 5 *"* o O g; P ES c/> P ^r 2 rt C rj> 3 3 rt> 3 p cx FD" a, 3 p g 1 ^ ff 3' 3* p q ^ 3 '-< n> 1 D- ^ST n _, CL * - a 3, 3 ' 3 T- o c T3 r 1 ; c I r"S 1860 --- - 203 IO 1861 2OO 406 403 1206 1862 - 200 609 606 347 1863 - - 350 812 959 47 47 5-79 3764 1864 - - - 500 1015 H59 444 397 39-n 2573 1865 950 1218 2409 1191 747 6i-33 1737 1866 --- - 1421 3309 1888 697 49-05 1758 1867 Soo 1624 4109 2485 597 36.7612215 1868 - 800 1827 4909 3082 597 32.681832 1869 860 2030 3739 657 3-361796 1870 - 991 2233 6760 4527 788 35-29 1887 1871 1007 7767 533i 804 33-oc 2159 1872 - 946 2639 8713 6074 743 28.15 1972 1873 - - 1032 2842 9745 6903 829 29.17 2090 1874 - - - - 1875 530 433 3045 3240 10275 10708 7230 7468 3 2 7 10.74 7-34 3248 338o 1876 --- - 600 3*74 11308 8134 666 20.98 2769 1877 {536 536 ^36] None. u 2290 6000 13598 7598 (\) 0.00 H95 1878 - 536 536 " 3839 845S 17437 8979 1381 l6 -33 1553 1879 536 536 u 2975 t '0337 20412 10075 1096 10. 60 1467 20739! 55569 536 53 6 20203 55033 This divided by 20412 gives 203 the average productive time 6 of a \vell during the whole period as 2.68 years. 20412 LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. (*) The figures in the first and second column up to 1874 are taken from Special Report on the Petroleum of Pennsylvania by Henry E. Wrigley : Second Geological Report of Pennsylvania, 1874; tne th er figures in the same columns have been furnished by Mr. S. H. Stowell; the rest were calculated, as will easily be understood. The percentages of failures were derived from second and fifth columns; I call attention to the di-screpencies of figures : in second arid third columns for 1861 and 1862, the differences of the two furnishing the number six added to the sum at the bottom of first column. (t) S36 old wells reopened by blasting. (|) No well failed in this year. Are the figures correct? 4. TABLE SHOWING THE AVERAGE YEARLY PRICE PER barrel of Crude Oil at the wells and of Crude and Refined Oil at the ports of export. Years. Price per barrel at wells.! in export. Crude i Crude IRefined- (t) B on Pri at wells Crude :e per barrel in export. Crude. 1 Refined (t) I8SQ $20.001 1869 $5.48 $10.12 $13-73 $3.61 1860 9.60! 1870 3-74 8.69 12. 8l 4.12 1861 0.49 1871 4-50 8.40 10.79 2-39 1862 1.05 $11.09 I8 7 2 7.14 10.46 3-3 2 1 86^ 3- J 5 7-52 1873 1.84 6.8s 9.87 3.02 1864 7.62 16.2^ $22.22 $5-97 l8 74 1.29 4.96 7.27 186^ 6.18 23.48 3I-25 7-77 1875 1.48 4-3 5-92 i .8g 1866 3-78 15-75 24.23 8.48 1876 2-73 4-54 S.88 1 -34 1867 2-54 10.67 15.08 4.41 I8 77 2-45 j.S 8.86 2.98 1868 3-05 6.47 "35 5-88 1878 4.20 6.05 1.85 (f) Difference between the two preceding columns, represent- ing cost of refining. The irregularities in the prices are very likely the result of speculation. 5. PRODUCTION OP CRUDE PETROLEUM IN THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA PROM 1359 TO 1873 INCLUSIVE. PITTSBURGH, PA., June 4th, 1879. JP. Schweitzer, Esq., State University of Missouri , Columbia^ Mo. : DEAR SIR: Your favor of the 26th ult. was duly received and its contents noted. Enclosed herewith I hand you a detailed statement of Petroleum production in the United States and Can- 84 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. ad a from 1859 to 1878 inclusive, made up from data which I have been able to collect for the last 7 rears. The early years of Petroleum production were without system and without a market, consequently there was no regular account kept of the production and cannot be given by any person except as an approximation ; the same may be said of the production ac- count outside of the Pennsylvania oil fields. Since any record has been preserved I have in my office quite a complete chain. So I present results therefrom having confidence in their general cor- rectness. Since I have been publishing the ''Reporter" I have had every facility for making accurate reports and have the data .on file in my office to verify all figures contained in the reports. Respectfully, S. H. STOWELL, Editor "StowelTs Petroleum Reporter." These figures refer to calendar years beginning with the first of January, while those given by the Chief of the Bureau of Statis- tics refer to fiscal years beginning with July i and ending June 30. In constructing the curve of production for the rest of the United States excepting Pennsylvania, the totals given in the different columns up to 1875 and '76 were distributed evenly over the pre- ceding sixteen and seventeen years; but the production of Cana- da up to the year 1862 was added during that year. It was intend- ed to present merelv the difference between this curve and that of Pennsylvania. RECAPITULATION. Penn. Total production . . i r 1,007,862 bbls. Value. . $293,872,162 W, Va. " . . 3,542,000 " 1 Ohio " " 4 II >5 " Ky.&Tenn. " .. 398,000 California " . . 355,000 u Total production in U. S. 115,714,362 "' Total. .$306,344,387 Canada total production .. 3,596,945 u (*) Value 9,531,904 Total in U.S. & Canada. .119,311,307 " Total. .$315,876.291 (*) These figures were obtained by taking $2.65 as the price- per barrel of oil. LECTURE OF PROF. SGWBITZER. 35 a- "L crcrc) ooccoocooocoGooooooooococoGcoo >_i **-i *-< 4^ 4-^ O O ^ HI vi HI O o 3 Slss^'H^^I ^lliSll^rill^ol br^OQggOQO|-C|| - GOO H, W 1 ^- f ' O ^ ^f tw O *^i !x?^ w 5T ' -T7 A l^^AV 9-^S 1 ^ SO i IMO - IO !- T J IJL put! NJ iZgl 03 .101.1 J ! O o ^ 'i ? ;f O QO QO O Oi '^n Q O Q (J 4^ OJ 4- CO J^. OJ O '--- >- GOOJ Oi ON GCOi 4- GO GC O 2 \O O t-J ^J V^$ tJ O O C^J tJ I* O OJ C 'SO HI 4^ --I vj o; GO O t/> 4* O OC'-n >J u C^ Q <* 4^-'^J'Ot- l 4^'-(4i.ONO > ONONHifj4i.ooOO' . 5 ILl UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. J 4 ^ D ^ .2 <>)_' -4 O P i^- t---1- PO 10 P^ t- J^CC C- O- O t^CC ^ovO OO to i^*\C O O ** to O ON 07 s . "* OO 1 2 M - r-T -i t IO Tj- PO O '^-t>0 ON P4 O M P* M ONVO PI t- r- rvsC ON vO PO ri ^ f CO M O 00 00 - 00 r-00 X~ w -rJ-'O --T'X C >D cf\ r^ i-T 13 ? POOO f^ '-o Tp\o .co i-i r^ vo >-i t " ' t i i>. i--. r-\O GC f *& PI o PO t O vO PO -< ON *i~ t"^ 1^-vO ON O 'ON P*^ O^v to ^t~ POOC P* w 00 1- "". PI O NO tovO o -H- s . ' i - 'O X' CO OO +-* ^ OO O PO 'f- r^- PO PI c pf PO ir^CO O O t>- 1 < t-C l-( i,> PO^"^ . ,-, ri 10 i>.cc &?*.- -f -o'vC fc sC fO ^-O 1-s.i J-JSSJJTd 55^2*4- 5-^ J :RMA o^ q_ PO rT ^ ^00 O ^ J> "* !> C^\ CC^O K * VC 1 O o . i -f NO 0\ t- " co" vo" to 0" C ^. ~" ff: \O O vN O t^* ^O "^t" (^"O O. : >C ^"^- ly ^- C ^ i'^ -o\o *-o O\vJD O ** ^o >-* ^-O O t 1 ^ "^" **" f-1 -o^vn ^ o ?! ^^ra^a^S;^ -:^ K H CO CO CO . *-^00 O**"O ON "^~ ""* ON ON ^T" ^^ ON^O CO *-c. B PO PO ON POO' !> t^* ci'vO 5 s ^1~ ^O^O u^ i-. n *-r X -r c POCO PO (3 fS c^ r^i 04 t-* ^t"CO ^) c^i Cf) !> *- *~^* r - O* *-i M ro\C vCOO ON<^M u^ M s . O^OC/0 ^ _ONCOCO Q ', ~u 5"S p., ex bx; ^-ONt^ONtoTj--^-)-* t--q q POOO vq co q q O t>CO tr^ ^>* *O to ^" O O -t^*VO ** ON O ^" C A4 M P< O t> ON C"* PO *^ " ' PO ^t* to i^* -< O vO CO OO CT'.GO < H CO '03 CO tN i>- O C-4 >> O "3 O VC ^r ts to ON PI 1>-NO H a -" POVO NO <-> i- 1 P< pT w M PO P >-< P PO PI A "2 ON ^- ^- !> POOO ON xO O co GO t~^ ON TJ- t^- P^ i^ 'N t^ to ON Tt~ rt~ tovO vO POvO O ** *"* ON O P^ (-iCOVOCO ONdVO POO O t^-^^J-M POP< t-- Q S^^ S^l 5 O >- co toco PO i> "^t* ON to LO ON ON ONVO oo O O^.vC X) *-i ON M O PO O 4" ONCO to rj~ t^ x> *ooo ON a ' S ^ to ON P^VO t^ O cf ON ON POOO t^ -f O NO vo J , , , CO <0 j KJ YEARS. Ifll'Ist ON Q 4- 4^ co ON-f^ u 5>_f. ^.j o vo ** 4 Or, to CO oX VO VO sir ^l'? CN4^ Co Co 4- t-> Co vo O - O ~~* - 1 > vp ^r co Co 4" ^ ^ J Co Cn ~CC~CN~io O to C CC4^ CN-e -^ ON CO C >-4 O Co ONOO ON-4 C i j ^ -> L n to CO CO to CO CO Co O J ^? r- ~' o" ** O) Oo W ts) to i-i K ? ^ IO \C 1-1 Cri ^J OO 1 ^ 4*- 4^- CNVQ OO'-n to OCUo ^J ^po^p M jo ---.j ~ cc "bo^ "b\4^ ~bo^t "o ">" tovO to O4- v O" '-a 10 v\ J^P j^'^ "sO U> to "ONUJ vo vo Cj 4, 4* 00 1-1 u 10 4* On On ^n O M 00 ON y-^3 a f o M C>J OO -1 M -l tn M M \o 004^- ^J 4* - On ON-l C^J ^J to \O "-" -fj f H 4^ Oo ONC^J to 4> ^J 4^ On - ON M to vp --i oVi On Jo jq-0 ^C MA"! ~ " o' W C^> tO to K) 1-1 M OJ Q-t* 1-4- 004^ 00\O U> M - 4^ 10 OCVJ -J vJ VO ON>-iOn--c h- 1-1 _! i? ~ en Q ^o CO t j O04* 4^ ON O> O Oovo ^r '-a t^i ---i M M 4^ vo >-i O> On ^T Co CO ON 1-1 CNOn M ON O ONVO ^r ON O o> Co CO-o ON -lOvC^OGOOCN cocoO--< Cjd GO to VO On - T 4* On Ox Cn -f' vp ';f JXiVi O JX) 'O NO 4^ O) ON M on \O OO4^ OO ON 00--n CN CO ON O 004^ COOn CO >O ON^r 4^ 4^ VO CO O VO ON ^ O to On ON*-4 On -w ^ O tdcJO ^k>OLi! yo 1 I v> E ^ 1 QQQ C o o o n o oooo O > v: cr ^ 55? Cfl w M ffi K K ffi K HCSffiE o S n S $*" i F ERIES. n H r oo ^co ^co ^oo ^oo ^gpop p^ O p n oj M ^r oo oc co 00 HI M OO HI 3 -( JS > ,7 9 c; 2. g DH o d C^ J.C/! ^ ON ,. ON -ON ,. > ON ^l L ON K) HI lo VO 00 ^J VO ^ 3* 3 P _^ ^ ITI 3 ^ fj h-i t ( s HI HI HI 1 K.^. o tc r P 0\ciJ? I ^ vo -^ ^8 "oo'S" cot) ^ -^ -^ jf B" o 1 KJ CCVO OO'-n ON4^ HiOJ'-nioJj C '-p 3 x-^ 3* C * an o^ e ? do Oa Oo C^i HI OJ Op s* 555 f CD J5 3 -^ 3^^ ^'^ ^ ^ jo ^ -^ "1 *1 333 P 1>> o i-! *Q UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. IMPURITIES NOT YET ISOLATED. 1. Those possessing m their composition Sulphur. 2. Those which give rise to the color of Petroleum. 3. Those possessing the disagreeable and specific ordor of American Petroleum. In this list Thallen, discovered by Prof. Morton is not men- tioned, because it is probably only an educt of the distillation of Petroleum at high temperatures and not a product occurring in it naturally, and further because L. Prunier and R. David, Comptes rcndus 87, pgs. 991-93, state that Petrocen, Carbocen, Carbopetro- cen and Thallen are only mixtures with from 88 to 96 per cent, of Carbon. 8. PRODUCTS OF FRACTIONAL DISTILLATION. I A(*) | B(*) | C(f) Gasolene i. 5 per cenf) 3.0 per cent. Naphtha 1 0.0 ' 20.0 per cent. 10.0 " Benzine 4.0 } 3.0 Kerosene - 55- 66.0 75.0 Lubricating oil - - 17-5 Paraffin 2.0 Loss, Gas, Coke - IO.O 14.0 9.0 " 100.0 " 100.0 IOO.O " (*) These three tables are taken from C. F. Chandler's "Re- port on Petroleum," 1871. (f) This table is taken from H. B. Cornwall, "Petroleum," 1876. LECTURE OF PROF. 8CHWKITZEB. 41 K) oo OJ ON Q\ ON O\ 00 00 *O VO HH *-. HH *? . o o o "^S ?v W bd W bd td td td td td W?^ tdtd W p^ p p rj* *^ s s> I I?l 1 1 1 f 1 w^r&cftft^ 3 * EL o^SS- ^ ^ 3 PryqrDrt- : rt re 2! I r > r- r ft 80^^-4- ^x per cent, yielded. 000 W< ^ - c % C-w -^* ' ^ ** "SV: '--" "9 ?*? tri OO CO >H "5 ^ ? ? 5 ^ ^ Boiling Point, Fah. op O ^ ^ O O O ^3 3. 5 g.^?3 R 3 E. g, j;- iel-GL^ fib . 'M.A. Oi g.g g 1. IB&&S ^s s-s t" . O R' * - 3 a ST P a S. ^a S a 8. 3 - P 5" ? o ^ cr ^o- cr g" S^ a ^ "" 2* 3 ^ 2.^ ^ 3 < 5f^O"o < -- o' cn"g ag p 1 ? g -T: 2-cn? o ^ R 3 o*a i'fST^^i 30J 1 ? w D* 3 C 5. - "'oa fDOp'BX'Q' W z f~* * " 3 fc B ^3 ^ ^^ '3^ 2 2. re o o c cr a-. 5. | p 2 S | ^^ S ^^ r f-. & ^ ^ J4 o- 2. p J ^ ^- R T) ""f^p"^ P 3^ 3 5 ^ 3 rt re C $a CA t^ . ^* rt 3 O O. " p r ^ ^ ?_ y tjj ~. r+ *^ ^^ 2- o 1 IIO 114 2 - 3 87 86 82 i So 82 88 88 4 - - 88 79 88 6 - - 88 88 77 77 2? 7 88 75 84 9 81 82 10 - Si 88 ii 76 80 12 - 77 82 Average 91 82 89 83 87 13 - J 39 149 171 14 - 140 150 These oils were tested during January or February of each year, and were taken from barrels ^tamped by the St. Louis Coal Oil Inspector as having no F. fire test, except Nos. 13, 14 and No. i, 1879. which were stamped, the two former as having 175 F. and the latter 150 F. fire test. A complaint on the part of the retail dealer here to the wholesale merchant drew forth the following reply : ST. Louis, Mo., FEBRUARY rxo, 1877. *.* * "If your University Chemist would attend to some- thing he knows about, it would be inoro creditable to him. Al) LECTURE OP PROF. SCHWEITZER. 45 the oil \ve s eiid you \\ill stand no degrees test by any FAIR in- spection. Our University Chemist here attempted the same- thing; but when he learned to test oil PRACTICALLY he was we think convinced, that theory was one thing and practice another." I suppress the names of the parties from motives of chanty, but suggest that the note be read in the light of the numerous accidents and horrors from Coal Oil that have occurred almost daily in various parts of our state and have been published in the St. Louis papers. These parties and others that might be named, evidently think that the testing of oils must be learned by the Chemist or man of Science from the Inspector, whose claim to the position, as usually filled, is of a political or similar character. I call tn this connection attention to the fol- lowing statement, which appeared in the St. Louis Re- publican of February 5th, 1879: [From the Missouri Republican, Feb. 5, 1879.] The grand-jury sat late on Monday evening. They were anxious to prevent a caucus on the part of certain parties, who, they had been led to believe were interest- ed in covering up some crookedness connected with the gauging, inspection and stamping of coal oil in this city. They thought they were in a fair way to obtain convict- ing evidence, provided the parties under investigation did not succeed in getting together and agreeing on some plan for mutual protection. With a view to preventing that occurrence, they had a^number of men employed in watching the oil-works, the coal oil inspector's office and such other places as a caucus was likely to be held. Yet, in spite of all these precautions, the officers were eluded, and in a little room at the Laclede hotel the meeting was held. It did not last long, but it probably sufficed to effect arrangements to tide over the present crisis. The grand-jury, although not aware of the caucus, had learned that Hon. Hairison Attaway, coal oil in- spector for St. Louis, had been summoned here from his home at Lebanon, Mo., by a telegram sent by his deputy, Mr. Cliff Able. They had also learned that Mr. 46 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Attaway would very probably start on the 9:45 Jefferson City. * * * Shortly before train ti .5 train for time Mr. Attaway, in a serious mood, arrived. He was about to secure his seat when the detectives approached him and told him that he was wanted. He demanded their au- thority and they said they had the authority of the grand- jury. After some parley, he went with them to the Four Courts. Meanwhile officers were industriously endeavoring to ascertain the whereabouts of Mr. Cliff Able, Mr. At taway's deputy, with a view to arresting him. Their efforts, however, were futile. Yesterday forenoon Mr. Attaway and Mr. Able were at the Four Courts. The former went before the grand-jury, and was examined there for a couple of hours. The result of his examination was that a num- ber of record books were brought from the inspector's office and taken charge of by the jury. The jury then proceeded to the criminal court and made report, the substance of which was not made known to the public. Bench warrants had been made out, and Messrs. Atta- way and Able were notified that they would be required to give bond of $1,000 each. The former simply re- newed his bond with Dr. Nidelet as security, to answer to any indictment that might be brought against him, and the latter gave bond, with Mr. J. J. Daly as security, to answer before the court to-morrow morning to the charge of contempt, the grounds of which charge will more fully appear hereafter. As both the gentlemen -professed tube utterly ignor- ant as to the nature of the prosecution to which they are to be subjected, and as the members of the grand-jury are pledged to secrecy in regard to all matters before them it is not practicable to state, with such a fullness and clearness as would be desirable, what are the charges and the facts on which they are based. Still, a pretty fair outline of the matter can be stated, as gleaned from a dozen different sources. For many months there has been a general com- plaint among merchants who have the handling of coal oil in this city that the contents of the barrels.purchascd LECTURK OF PROF. SCHWEITZER, 47 by them were from one to three gallons and sometimes as much as four gallons short of the quantity stamped on the head, ostensibly by the inspector. As their bills were all made out according to the stamps on the bar- rels, this was a matter seriously affecting margins. For a long time the discrepancy was explained away on the theory of evaporation, but the shortage became so great that dealers began to grow skeptical as to this theory. Then they got to comparing notes, and they were as- tounded to find how uniform-was the cause for complaint. Moreover the retailers found and the record of coal-oil accidents went to sustain them that the oil was very frequently not of the proof which the law re- quires; that instead of standing the degree of heat spec- ified by statute as a minimum, it would ignite much be- low it. Gradually this grievance was made known to the wholesale men, who, in turn, associated it with the shortage phenomenon. In order that the general read- er, who may not be posted as to the system of handling oil here, may understand the situation, a slight digres- sion from the main story is here necessary. In order to regulate the sale of this inflammable and popular commodity, there is a statute providing for a coal-oil inspector in St. Louis, another in Kansas City, another in Hannibal and another in St. Joseph. These men are paid by commissions, being allowed a specified amount for every barrel of oil inspected. All the crude oil coming to St. Louis is brought here by the firm of Waters, Pierce, & Co., whose refining establishments are at the edge of the Union depot yards, one at Four- teenth street and the other at Tayon avenue. They put the oil through a refining process, and it must be brought to a certain grade susceptible of a certain fire test be- fore it can be placed upon the market. Moreover,every barrel must be gauged and stamped by the inspector or his deputy. From the complaints of the merchants as to short- age and inferior oil, the grand-jury became satisfied that there was fraud somewhere. After taking a considera- ble amount of testimony showing that fact, they sent for Mr. Able, Mr. Attaway being absent from the city. 48 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. They learned that, instead of going to the works and in- specting the oil themselves, these gentlemen were in the habit of allowing the employes of the refining company to mark the grade and contents on the barrels and that this had been done for weeks at a time. Of course if inferior oil was put upon the market as of a high grade, there was a profit to somebody. And, of course, again, if thirty-six gallons were sold as forty, there was more profit to somebody. These two profits on each barrel of oil must represent vast sums in the course of a month's business in such a city as this, but i-t is not impossible that the circumstances have been misinterpreted, and that what appears to be fraud may have some fair expla- nation. Or, even if there are great frauds in the busi- ness, it is not impossible that the gentlemen under arrest and the refining firm are ignorant of them, while the employes are getting the benefit. All of this remains to be determined by investigation. However all that may be, Mr. Able, when before the jury, agreed to exhibit to that body the books of the office. When he got outside the jury-room, however, he manifested a disposition to disregard his agreement. A subpoena was sent after him, and he disregarded it. A subpoena duces tecum was sent and he ran from the office. An attachment was sent and he was nowhere to be found. The jury, under the fear that the books would be rewritten if sufficient time was allowed, made strene- ous endeavors to get possession of the books Monday night, but failed. Those which were produced yester- day morning were examined, and a gentleman, who saw them in the jury-room, declared that they all had the appearance of having been written but a few hours be- fore, the ink being quite fresh. This view, however, may be explained by a too suspicious mind. When the jury learned that Mr. Able had con- sulted able counsel before and after entering the jury room ; when they learned that telegrams had been sent Mr. Attaway; when they learned that the caucus re- ferred to in the beginning of this article had been held in spite of their endeavors, they were very indignant, a nd it seems quite certain that there will be serious pun- LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 4t9 ishment for contempt. Two indictments have been found. The legitimate fees of the office, as shown by the investigation, amount to $9,000 in a year, and this is to be divided between only the inspector and the deputy. I also call attention to a statement in the St. Louis Globe- Democrat of February 25th, 1879: [From the Globe-Democrat, Feb. 25th, 1879.] The Grand Jury report presented to Judge Laugh- lin yesterday noon may be summed up as follows: THE COAL OIL MATTER. 5. They also diligently investigated the complicity of the principal venders of petroleum or coal oil in this market, and desire to report the result of that investiga- tion so that the law-makers, now in session at Jefferson City, may know how the law now in existence, intended for the protection of life and property, is evaded and ren- dered void and of no effect. The former law required that the fire test for standard oil should be 1 10. This test not being sufficiently safe, and for the better protection of the lives and property of those who use petroleum, a new law, the one now in force, was enacted by the leg- islature, raising the fire test for standard oil to 150, re- quiring that the contents for each and every barrel or package should be inspected by the inspector, and the same gauge tested and branded and the quantity and quality of each barrel branded on the barrel, and that all under 150 should be branded "Rejected." The jury found from the evidence of parties before them that the barrels were gauged and branded before the oil was put into them. The gauging of the barrels is mostly done by the employes of the Waters-Pierce Oil Company. The oil as a general thing was tested, and in the tunks in which it was received from the East, and not in the bar- rels, as the law requires ; and the fire tests are, to a great extent, made by the employes of the same company, and not by the Inspector, as the law provides. The barrels, as a general thing, were branded by the Inspector, but the brands were left in the possession of the oil compa- 60 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. ny, perfectly accessible to the company or its employes,. so that they could be used if so desired, and the grand- jury found that in some cases they were so used by per- sons in the employ of the Waters-Pierce Oil Company. They also found that when the barrels were branded "Rejected" the word "Rejected" was erased or marked out by the employes of the company. The fire test ap- peared to have always been marked on the barrel, but how accurately the grand-jury had not as full and satis- factory evidence as they desired. But some test barrels, the fire tests of which were branded 150, were, on the inspection, found to be 10 or 15 below. Evidence is also before the grand jury that barrels were gauged to con- tain more oil than the size of the barrels could possibly contain say a barrel, the capacity of which is 50 gal- lons, was gauged to contain 51 or 511^ gallons. The value of the oil ranges according to the test from 3 to y/ 2 cents per gallon between no and 150. There would no serious injury result from testing oil in the tanks, pro- vided the oil was tested by the Inspector and the same filled into barrels into his presence. And also not to be one-sided to the verdict publish- ed in the St. Louis Globe- Democrat of May i8th, 1879: [St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Sunday, May 18, 1879.] COAL OIL RING A MYTH. WATERS-PIERCE OIL COMPANY VINDICATED. A few weeks ago certain articles appeared in the St. Louis Grocer, a trade journal published under the auspices of Greeley, Burnham & Co., in relation to coal oil matters, reflecting upon the Inspector, Harrison At- taway, and the parties chiefly engaged in supplying the St. Louis market with coal oil. The articles charged that enormous frauds had been perpetrated in guaging and inspecting coal oil. The "Waters-Pierce Oil Company" furnish proba- bly ninety-nine hundreths of all the coal oil sold in St. Louis, and although they were not directly charge! LECTURE OF PROF. SCWEITIER. 51 with the supposed frauds, they at once sued Greeley, Burnham & Co. for a libel upon their business. A large number of depositions were taken on both sides, and these conclusively showed that so tar as Wa- ters-Pierce Oil Company were concerned no wrong whatever had been committed; but that both the guag- ing and testing had been honestly done. But the testi- mony further showed that there had been no fraudulent guaging or testing done by anybody, and that conse- quently the indictment of the Inspector and of his dep- uty, Able, was an egregious blunder. Two or three trifling irregularities, appeared in the mode of discharging his duties by the Deputy Inspector, but not in the least affecting his integrity, and mostly chargeable upon deficiencies in the old inspection law, which never was sensible, and which has long since been outgrown by the business to which it was intended to apply. THE ATTAWAY CASE ENDED. When the case against Coal Oil Inspector Harrison Attaway was called in Judge Cady's court yesterday morning, the defendant's counsel, Messrs. George W. Cline and F. D. Turner, appeared and stated that the attorneys for the state, who were not present, had agreed that they did not possess sufficient evidence to se- cure a conviction. Prosecuting Attorney Hogan said he knew nothing about the case, and so, as the regular counsel for the prosecution was not present, was willing that the case should be dismissed for want of prosecu- tion. Accordingly the defendant was discharged. I may be allowed in this connection to make some additional remarks in regard to the inspection of Petro- leum oils; the yearly consumption of them for the United States is estimated at 2,190,000 barrels and for our own state at 100,000 barrels; three fourths of this quantity is tested in St. Louis, bringing to the Inspector at least $9,000 a year in fees; were he to make inspec- tions of smaller packages than barrels, his fees would be even more than that; now allowing 15 minutes to each 62 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. test, which including the time for collecting is certainly very moderate, 18,750 working hours will be required. The year, Sundays and holidays included, has 8,760 hours, whence it can be seen that the St. Louis Inspec- tor and his deputy must each work 24 hours a day the year round, and manage besides to put in somewhere 1,230 extra hours, to accomplish the testing of 75,000 samples, for it is impossible to make even for an hour two tests alongside of each other with any degree of accuracy; close attention is required throughout. It is perhaps significant that the same gentleman who at the time of his first appointment made oath to perform the duties of his office iv it h fidelity ^ and who was able to accomplish this in some occult manner, has been rewarded since by the Governor of the state with a re-appointment to the same position. 11. PRICE OF OIL IN NEW YORK MARKET, OFFICE OF CHARLES PRATT & Co., "] . ESTABLISHED 1770, No. 128 PEARL ST., NEW YORK, | JANUARY 28TH, 1879. J Prof. P. Schweitzer, Columbia, Mo. : DEAR SIR: Your favor of the 2oth instant at hand ordering ten gallons of Astral, which has attention. The price in barrels, small lots, is 21 cents, but we would sell a car load at 18 cents in barrels and 22 cents in cans. In answer to your inquiries, we may state, that the difference in price between 110 fire test oil and 150 fire test, is to-day in this market 6 cents per gallon, but special causes sometimes lower or advance this. The price of Astral is from 2 to 3 cents per gal- lon above what is known in the market as 150 oil. Yours truly, CHARLES PRATT & Co. WHITE LINE, ) ST. Louis, FEB. 22nd, 1879. [ Freight from New York to St. Louis 4th class 54 cents. D. T. PACKER. LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 53 12. TABLE OF TESTS OF PETROLEUM, REQUIRED BY LAWS IN DIFFERENT STATES. STATES. Flashing Point. Burning Point. England loo" F 100 F TOO" F 120 F 100 F 100 F 100 F 110 F Date of law 1868 " ' ' 1863 " ' ' 1867 " ' ' 1879 " < '1869 ' < 1871 " ' ' 1871 Indiana Ohio Michigan Massachusetts Rhode Island New York (*) (*) 1865 100 Fire test; 1866 110 Fire test. I Fire test. I Pennsylvania 110 F " " " 1865 Vermont 110 F " " 1868 Illinois 110 F " " " 1860 Georgia . . 110 F u u u 1870 Maryland 1 10 F " " " 1871 Maine 120 F " " " 1867 Missouri (f ) 150 F u u l879 (f) 1865 no F emit an explosive gas or take fire; 1867 no F ignite and explode ; 1868 same as before; fee reduced to 5 cents a package; 1870 -same as before; fee raised to 6 and 12 cts. a package; 1877 1 5 F fire test. 18. THE NEW COAL OIL LAW, PASSED MARCH 27th, 1879. The result of this lecture, which I repeated by invi- tation, on March i2th, in the hall of the House of Rep- resentatives at Jefferson City, was the introduction by Senator Burkholder of a coal-oil bill, which in my judg- ment covered very thoroughly all points of importance and had my unqualified approval and indorsement. It was not, however, the only bill introduced on the subject in the legislature, and was with the rest referred to the committee on Insurance, which reported back a substitute, which finally passed and became a law. This law, the result of the deliberation of several 54 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. committees, one of which at least was aided and enlight- ened by a representative and his attorney of a large coal oil house in the state, is an extremely inferior piece of workmanship; for it retains nearly all the faults of the old law, without offering any compensating superior features; no safer oils need be expected by the consum- mer under its working than have heretofore been sold in the state under the old law. I will mention a few, and only a few of the objections to it: 1. It does not require the Inspector to be a compe- tent and qualified person, all reference to it being omit- ted; the old law made in this respect at least a show of aiming higher. 2. It omits all special reference to the mode of punishment or of removal of Coal Oil Inspector for in- competency when branding f. e., oils as of higher fire test than is actually the case. 3. It makes it the duty of the Inspector to prose- cute all persons found violating its provisions; this amounts either to nothing or to too much ; no inspector can be expected to act the part of a detective for a large dis- trict, and he should surely not possess the right to prose- cute offenders to the exclusion of every aggrieved citizen. 4. It forbids the sale and use (sec. 4) for illuminat- ing purposes, of all fluids having a fire test below 150 F except when used in the form of vapor or gas; this provision is defective and useless, since all petroleum lamps are in reality gas or vapor lamps, and no law ex- ists to make a distinction between them or draw any- where a dividing line. 5. It gives a long and detailed description (sec. 2, line 12-48) of the manner of finding the flashing point of an oil, and after having found it makes no earthly use of it. It is required neither to be a fixed point nor to LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 65 be branded on the packages. Its purpose, unless it is to breed confusion, can not be apprehended. 6. It describes in detail the procedure for obtaining the fire test of an oil, consuming in every single opera- tion 45 minutes, without counting the time for collecting samples or branding packages. This is a grave defect since it gives to inferior oils, as already explained, a fic- titious superiority and throws most of the business into the hands of the St. Louis inspector; the labor involved in making a test from a tank of 1500 barrels capacity is not greater than making it from a barrel; yet in the former case the fee returned is 180 dollars and in the latter case 12 cents; who would like to be coal oil inspector in a small town ? 14. BIBLIOGRAPHY OF PETROLEUM. I have made an attempt to collect as far as I was able all references to Petroleum, and to arrange them under certain headings, hoping that the labor expended will be repaid by the usefulness, to which the informa- tion may be put by brother Chemists. The references are given, wherever possible, to Berzelius' (B. J.) and Liebig's Jahresbericht (L. J.) and to the original sources of publication. i. OCCURRENCE AND ORIGIN: L. J. 1859, Foetterle; Verhandl. d. k. k. geol. Reichsanstalt 1859, 183. P. fr. Gallicia. 1861, Andrews; Sill. Am. J. 2, 23, 85 P. fr. Pa. O. Ky. " 1862, Hunt; Chem. News 6, 5, 16. 'P. fr. North America. 1863, Hunt; Sill. Am. J., March, 1863. 1866, Lesley; Proc. Amer. Philos. Soc. 10, 33, 187. 1868, Hunt"; Sill. Am. J., Nov. 1868. " 1869, Baumhauer; Arch, neerland, 4, 299, P. fr. East India. " 1869, Both ; Russ. Zeitsch, Pharm. 8, 467, P. fr. Russian Asia. 1871, Hunt; Sill. Am. J. 3, i, 420. 1871, Le Bel; Compt. rend, 73, 499, P. fr. the lower Rhine. " Heurteau; Ann. d. min. 6, 19, 197, P. fr. Galicia. 56 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. L. J. 1871, Foetterle; Verhandl, d. k. k. geol. Reichsanstalt, 1871, 356, P. from Galicia. " Vital; Ann. d. min. 6, 20, 318, P . fr. Pundjab. " 1872, Le Bel; Compt. rend. 75, 267, P. fr. the lower Rhine. " Torrej; Am. Chem. 2, 290. P. fr. Mexico. " 1873, Fuchs and Sarasin; Arch. ph. nat. de Geneve, 1873, 107. P. from Wallachia. " Joffre; Bull. soc. chim, 2, 19, 1547. " Knop; Jahrb. Min. 1873, 529.' P. fr. the Odenwald. " 1875, Hunt; Chemical and Geological essays, 168. " 1877, Weil; Monit. scientific, 3, 7, 295. " " Silvestri; Gazz. chim. itai, 1877, i. P- fr. the Etna. " Mendelijeff; Ber. chem. Gesell. 1877, 229. Chem. C. B. 1879, Ballo; Ber. chem. Gesellsch, n, 190. P. from Budapest. " " RadziszeAvski; Arch- pharm. 3, 13,455. 2. COMPOSITION AND PROPERTIES: 1820, Buchner and v. Kobell; Erdmann's Jour. 8, 305. B. J. 1831, Unverdorben ; Kastner's Archiv. 14, 122. Fractional distillation. De Saussure; Ann. d. chem. phys. 40, 230. Ex- periments with Naphtha. Dumas; Analysis of Naptha. , Blanchet and Sell; Ann. Pharm. 6, 311. Analysis of Petroleum. " 1837, v. Kobell; Journ. pract. chem. 5, 213. P. v. Tege- rnsee. " " Gregory; Journ. pract. chem. i, i, P. v. Rangoon. " Hess; Pogg. Ann. 36, 417. u 1841, Pelletier and Walter; Journ. d. Pharm. 25, 549. P. from Amiano. It. J. 1847, Frankenheim; Pogg. Ann. 72, 422. Sp. gravity. " 1850, Van Hess; Arch. Pharm. 2, 61, 18. Sp. gravity. " 1856, W. de la Rue and Mueller; Chem. Gazz. 1856, 375. P. from Rangoon. " 1860, Pebal; Ann. ch. pharm. 115, 19. P. from Gallicia. " " Bussenius and Eisenstueck; Ann. chem. pharm. 113^ 151. u 1861, Campbell; The Technologist 1861, 249. P. from Pa. " " Bleekrode; Rep. chim. appl. 4, 10. P. fr. the Indian. Archipelago. " 1863, Bolley and Schwarzenbach ; Ding. J. 169, 123. " " Pelouze and Cahours ; Compt. rend. 56, 505; 57, 62. " 1864, Tuttschew; Journ prac. chem. 93, 394. " " Buchner; Ding. pol.J. 172, 392. " 1865, Ronalds; Chem. soc. J. 2, 3, 54. u Warren; Sill. Am. J. 2, 40, 89-216-384. " " Schorlemmer; Chem. News, ir, 255. u 1867, Warren and Storer; Memoirs of 'the Am. Acad. (new series) if, 208. P. from Burmah. LECTURE OP PROF. SCHWEITZER. 5T L. J. 1867, Silliman; Sill. Am. J. 2, 43, 242. P. fr. California. " " Hager; Pharm. Centralhalle, 1866, 393. " 1868, Lefebvre; Compt. rend. 67, 1352. " " Warren; Sill. Am. J. 2, 45, 262. " " Fouque; Compt. rend. 67, 1045. " 1869, Said Effendi; Compt. tend. 68, 1565. Electric con- duction. " 1870, Saint-Claire Deville; N. Petersb., Acad. Bull. 15, 29. " 1871, Lalleinant; Ann. chem. phys. 4, 22, 200. " Morton; Sill. Am. J. 3, 2, 198-355. " " Silliman; Am. chem. 2, 2, 18. 'Private report made in 1855. " Dana Hayes; -Sill. Am. J. 3, 2, 184. " 1872, Cailletet; Compt. rend. 75, 77. " 1874, Hell and Medinger; Chem. Ges. Ber. 1874,1216. " 1875, Vohl; Ding. J. 216, 47. " " Albrecht; Zeitschf. Paraffin, etc. Industrie, 1875, I* " 1876, Hemilian; Chem. Ges. Ber. 1876, 1604. " Sadtler; Am. chem. 2, 7, 63-97-181. " " Bourgougnon; Am. Chem. 2, 7, 81. " " Am. Chem. Soc. Proc. 2, 115. " 1877, Akestorides; Jour. prac. Chem. 2, 15, 62. " Hell and Medinger; Chem. Ges. Ber. 1877, 451. " " Letniy; Bull. Soc. chem. 2, 27, 554. Chem. C. B. 1879, Prunier and David; Compt. rend. 87, 991. 3. SAFETY AND TESTING: 1863, Marx ; Ding. J. 166, 348. L. J. 1865, Atfield; Chem. News, 14, 257. " " Salleron and Urbain ; Compt. rend. 62, 43. " " Hager; Pharm. Centralhalle, 7,233. " 1868, Peltzer; Ding. J. 189,61 " " Jeunesse; Ann. du genie civil 1868, Juillet. " 1869, Hutton; Chem. News, 19, 41. " " Atfield ; " " 19, 70. 11 1870, Paul; " " 21, 2. " " Calvert; " " 21,85. " List; Wagner's Jahresber, f. 1870, 708. " Jacobi; Ding. J. 195,379. ." 1871, Byusson; Compt. rend. 73, 609. " Van der Weyde; Scientific American, 1871, 162. " 1873, Chandler; Ding. J. 207, 262. Jordery; Journal of Pharm. 1873, 348. " 1874, Badische Gewerbezeitung ; 6, 112. " Baird; Compt. rend. 78, 49i-6c;7. " 1875, Cornwall; Am. Chem. 2, 6, 458. " 1876, Cornwall; Am. Chem. Society Proc. i, 71. " Merrill; " " " " i, 115. " Sterling; Ding. J, 226, no. 58 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. 4. INDUSTRY. B. J. 1840, Boettger; Annual d. Pharm. 25, 100. Purification by Oil of Vitriol. k. J. 1859, Vohi; Ding. J. 147, 374. Illumination. " " Barlow; Cosmos, 12, 513. " " Hasse; Ding. J. 151, 4415. Collection of it. " 1860, Schwartz; Oest. Zeitsch. f. Bg. u. Huettenwesen, 1860, No. 16, 21. " 1861, Breslauer Gewerbeblatt, 1861 No. 16, 23. Statistics of Pennsylvania petroleum. " 1862, Boileau; Ann. min. 6, 2, 95. " Kopp; Rep. chim. appl. 4, 408. " Marx ; Wuertembg. Gewerbeblatt 1862, No. 45. 1863, Boileau; Ann. min. 6, 4, 105. " Hix; Rep. chim. appl. 5, 346. " " Youle Huide; Ann. min. 6, 4, 117. " " Wiederhold ; Ding. J. 167, 63, 459. Vogel; Ding. J. 167, 225. " Buchner ; Ding. J. 169, 339. " Weil; Le Technologiste 1862, 132. " Bolley; Ding. J. 169, 123. " " Wittstein; Viertelj. practical Pharm. 12, 343. " 1864, Wiederhold ; Ding. J. 172, 468. " 1865, Paul; Chem. News, 10,292; 11,63. " Richardson; Chem. News, n, 39. " Vohl; Ding. J. 175, 459; 177, 58. Mentioning of the process of cracking, ** 1866, Macadam; Chem. News, 14, no. " Green- Scientific American, 13, 383. " Vohl; Ding.J. 182,319- " 1867; Ott; Ding. J. 185, 195. Lugo's Apparatus. " Peckham; Chem. News, 16, 199. Apparatus. " " Young ; Armengaud, genie industrial,- 1866, 278. " Ott; Ding. J, 187, 171. " Bizarre and Labarre; Ann. min. 6, n, 185. " Schilling; Ding. J. 184, 485. " Kolbe- D. neuechem. Lab. d. Universitaet Leipzig, 1868, 21. " Reim; Wien. acad- Anzeig. 1867, 155. Hirzel; Zeitsch. f- Chem. 1867, 61, " Silliman; Chem. News, 18, 171. Petroleum from California. " Saint-Claire Deville: Compt. rend. 66, 442. 1869, " " " " 68 > 349-485-^6; 6 9, 933- " Peckham; Sill. Am. J, 2, 47, 9. " Humphrey; Monit. scientific, n, 497- " Zaengerle; Ding.J. 193, 122. " Cech; Ding.J. 194, 156. " 1871, Dana Hayes; Sill. Am. J. 3, 2, 184. LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. i9 L J? 1871, Byasson; Compt. rend. 73, 609. '" " Grotowsky: Pharm. Soc. Transact] 3, 2, 226. " " Silliman; Sill. Am. J. 3, i, 408. u 1872, Dana Hayes; Am. Chem. 2, 2, 401. " Fauck; Berg. u. Huettenm. Zeit. 1872, No. 41. " " Marx; Ding. J. 206, 442. " " Chandler; Am. Chem. 2, 2, 409-446 ; 3, 20-41. " *873, Prunier; Bull. Soc, chim. 2, 19, 109. " " Fuhst; Ding. J. 207,293. " " Pagliari; Compt. rend. 76, 362. " "Arbeitgeber;" 1873, No. 843. " " Hoffman; Ding, J. 208, 237. " 1874, Tweddle; Arbeitgeber Debr. 1873. " 187 s, Wagner; Bayerisch. Indust. u. Gewerbeblatt, 1875, i, 43. Gadd; Iron 1875, 332. " " Martin; Le Gaz. " " Thompson; Am. Chem. 2, 6, u. " 1876, Chandler; " " 2,6,251. " 1877, Martius: Sitzungsber d. Vereins z. Befoerderung d. Gewerbefleisses , 5, BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS: .. H. Erni, Coal Oil and Petroleum, etc. 1861, A, Gessner, A practical treatise, etc. London. 1863, A. N. Tate, Petroleum and its products, etc. Liverpool. 1865, Haudouin et Soulie, Le petrole, ses gisements, etc. Paris. " E, Schmidt, Das Erdoel Galiziens, Wien, " " " Die Erdoelreichthuemer Galiziens, Wien. " v. Neuendahl, Vorkommen und Gewinnung des Petroleums in Galizien, Wien. " Schiefer, Uber das naphthafuehrende Terrain west Galiziens, Wien. 1868, B. H. Paul, On liquid fuel, London. 1871, C, F. Chandler, Report on Petroleum as an Illuminator, New York. " W. Wright, The Oil Regions of Pennsylvania, etc. New York. " 1875, H. E. Wrigley, Special Report on the Petroleum of Penn- sylvania. Harrisburg, (Second Geological Survey of Penn- sylvania, 1874.) " S. P. Sadler, Hydrocarbon compounds; Harrisburg. (Sec- ond Geological Survey of Pennsylvania 1874. Preliminary report to the University of Pennsylvania by F. A, Genth with the above appendix.) 1876, H. B. Cornwall, Petroleum, New York. X 877, J. F. Carll, Oil well Records and Levels; Harrisburg. (Second Geological Survey of Pennsylvania 1876-7. 00 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOUKI. IB. DRAFT OF THE COAL OIL BILL SUBMITTED TO A MEMBER OF THE LEGISLATURE. Be it enacted by the General Assembly of the State of Missouri, as follows: SECTION i. The governor shall appoint for each of the cities of St. Louis, Hannibal, St. Joseph and Kan- sas City, and such other cities or towns as shall by the city or town authorities petition to him therefor, an in- spector of coal oil, carbon oil, petroleum oil, kerosene, gasolene, or any product of petroleum used for illumi- nating or burning fluids, by what ever name known, which may be manufactured or offered for sale in this state; said inspector shall be a competent and qualified person, and shall at his own expense provide himself with the necessary apparatus for the testing of any such illuminating oils or fluids. SEC. 2. It shall be the duty of the inspector, when called upon for that purpose by the owner, manufacturer of or dealer in any of said illuminating oils or fluids, promptly to test the same within the city or town for which he is appointed. The inspector shall in all cases take the oils or fluids for test from the package which is intended to be branded, and in no case shall he mark or brand any package before first having tested the contents thereof, and the quantity used for testing such illuminat- ing oil or fluid shall not be less than half a pint, and shall be tested according to the provisions of this act, and all such illuminating oils or fluids that will emit an inflammable vapor at a less temperature than one hun- dred and ten degrees Fahrenheit, he shall brand "reject- ed for illuminating purposes," and all that will stand the flashing test of one hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit, he shall brand "approved standard fluid." SEC. 3. The inspector shall, in addition to the brand in section two provided, affix his brand or device upon each package by him inspected, designating first, his name and place and date of inspection thus, , inspector of - , 18 , second, the flashing point> LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 61 thus, U F." and if the fluid inspected has a flashing point below one hundred and ten degrees F, he shall brand such package with the words "highly dangerous." SEC. 4. If any person, manufacturer or dealer, shall sell to any person whatsoever in this state, any of the said illuminating oils or fluids before first having the same inspected as provided in this act, he shall, on con- viction thereof, be fined in any sum not exceeding three hundred dollars; and if any manufacturer or dealer of said illuminating oils or fluids, shall with intent to de- ceive or defraud , alter or erase the inspector's brand to indicate a different fire test; than is found by the inspec- tor, or shall use with such intent packages having any inspector's brand thereon, without having the contents actually inspected shall, on conviction, be fined in any sum not exceeding fifty dollars for each such offense. SEC. 5. If any inspector shall brand any package or packages of the said illuminating oils or fluids in the manner prescribed for, "approved standard fluid," when such oils or fluids possess a flashing point of less than one hundred and ten degrees F, he shall on conviction thereof, be fined in the sum of three hundred dollars and forfeit his office. SEC. 6. All prosecutions for fines and penalties' un- der the provisions of this act shall be by indictment or information in any court of competent jurisdiction, and when collected, shall be paid into the treasury of the county where the offense is committed, one half of which shall be paid to the informer, and the other half to be paid to the common school fund. SEC. 7. The inspectors are hereby empowered, if necessary to the convenient despatch of their respective duties, to appoint competent deputies, empowered to perform the duties of inspector, and for whom they shall and are hereby made respectively responsible and ac- countable. SEC. 8. Every person appointed inspector, shall before he enters upon the duties of his office obtain a certificate of competency from the professor of chemistry at the University of the State of Missouri, and take an 62 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. oath *or affirmation to support the Constitution of this State, and of the United Stafes, and to perform the duties of his office with fidelity ; he shall also execute a good and sufficient bond to the State of Missouri, in sucFi sum and with such securities as shall be approved by the mayor of such city, conditioned for the faithful perform- ance of the duties herein imposed on him, which bond shall be for the use of all persons aggrieved by the acts or neglects of such inspector or his deputy. SEC. 9. The term of office of inspector shall be for one year, and for his compensation he shall be enti- tled to demand and receive from the owner of the illum- inating oils or fluids tested, and marked and branded as in this act provided, twelve cents for each barrel, and six cents for each smaller package. SEC. 10. The respective inspectors appointed un- der this act, s'hall keep a correct record of all illuminat- ing oils or fluids inspected, in a book to be furnished by the city authorities of such city, and which shall be open to inspection by all persons interested, and report annu- ally to the governor the number of barrels and smaller packages inspected, and quarterly to the mayor of the city for which he is inspector. SEC. ii. No inspector nor deputy inspector shall, while in office, be interested directly or indirectly in the manufacture or vending of any of the said illuminating oils or fluids, to be inspected under this act, nor shall he for the purpose of testing, take away or appropriate any part of said illuminating oils or fluids to his own use, or for the use of any other person, under penalty of five hundred dollars, to be recovered by an indictment or in- formation, in the manner provided for in section five of this act. SEC. 12. The apparatus to be employed in this test shall consist of an outer vessel of metal to contain water, about four inches in diameter and four inches deep, so contrived that some source of heat, such as a spirit lamp or gas burner, can be applied to it to heat the water which it contains; an inner vessel of thin metal to contain the petroleum to be tested, about two inches LECTURE OF PROF. SCHWEITZER. 68 in diameter and two inches deep, provided with an ex- ternal rim or flange, above which the edge of the vessel shall rise about one- fourth of an inch, and by which it may be supported in the outer vessel, so that its contents may be heated through the medium of the water; a Fahrenheit thermometer, with a spherical bulb, in the scale of which ten degrees shall occupy at least half an inch in length. In making the experiment with this ap- paratus, the inner vessel shall be filled with the petrole- um to be tested, but care must be taken that the liquid does not cover the flat rim ; the outer vessel shall be fill- ed with cold or nearly cold water, a small flame shall be applied to the bottom of the outer vessel, and the ther- mometer shall be inserted in the oil so that the bulb shall be covered by the petroleum ; when heat has been applied to the water until the thermometer has risen to about ninety degrees Fahrenheit, a very small flame shall be quickly passed across the surface of the oil, taking care however that the flame shall not touch the oil ; if the vapor be not ignited, that is, if no pale blue flash or flicker of light be produced, the application of the light shall be repeated at about every two degrees of increase of temperature, until the flash of the ignited vapor can be seen, and the temperature at which this first takes place is the temperature at which the sample of petrole- um gives off an inflammable vapor, and shall be marked upon the package, tested as the flashing point of such oil or fluid tested. SEC. 13. Whenever any vacancy occurs under this act by death, resignation, removal from office or other- wise, the mayor of the city where the vacancy happens, shall immediately certify the same to the governor, who shall appoint and commission his successor, for the re- mainder of the term of office as herein provided, and in all cases where any inspector shall be charged by indict- ment or information, for a violation of the duties of his office as herein before provided, the governor may sus- pend him from the duties of his office, and appoint another one to fill such vacancv during the time such inspector shall remain suspended. SEC. 14. All acts, amendments and parts of acts in 64 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. relation to the inspection of coal oil and petrolenm oils are hereby repealed. SEC. 15. The necessity of an immediate change in the law, there being none now in force, whereby delin- quent inspectors can be removed, is hereby declared an emergency, and this act shall take effect and be in force from and after its passage. L I B K A K \ 7 EVOLUTION AND CREATION. BY GEORGE C. SWALLOW, M. D., LL. D., PROFESSOR OF AGRICULTURE AND OF NATURAL HISTORY, AND DEAN OF THE AGRICULTURAL FACULTY. Three hundred and eighty-six years ago the third day of last August, there was a grand Gala Day at Palos in Spain. By the wishes of the good Queen Isabella, the courts of Castile and Arragon and the dignitaries of the Catholic Church, were assembled in that goodly city to pronounce a benediction upon Columbus and his three small ships, which that day sailed from this renowned port. These poor pinnaces, unseaworthy, badly man- ned and poorly equipped, turned their prows boldly out into the broad Atlantic, and for seventy-one days held their way into the vast expanse towards the setting sun, in search of the rich Cathay. As day after day passed by and favoring winds and currents bore them on and on, into the vast unknown, a superstitious fear settled down like a pall upon the ignorant sailors. They be- lieved the earth a broad expanse, bounded by precipitous edges. They saw in their fears the trade winds and the equatorial currents bearing them steadily on to the fatal verge, over which they would plunge down and down into the fathomless abyss below. But Columbus believed the earth a globe, and that he would find the east under the setting sun ! The 66 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. fearful sailors counselled a return before it would be for- ever too late. Columbus with sublime faith in God and science, held a steady helm, and kept his course. The sailors plotted mutiny and threatened violence; but the intrepid leader kept his undeviating way, and on the morning of the twelfth day of October, planted the ban- ner of Spain and the Church on San Salvador. Thus ended the first great conflict between modern science and the church. The church taught that the earth is a broad expanse of land and water; but the dawnings of science declared it a globe. Columbus be- lieved the science and conceived the idea of reaching China and the Indies by the west. He spent ten years in trying to persuade the monarchs of western Europe to furnish means for the voyage. But their Catholic majesties disbelieved his science and doubted his ability to solve the geographical paradox of finding the cast in the west. But the good Queen Isabella gave him the ships and the doubting prayers of the church for his success and safe return. His failure to find China became a grand success in finding America. It \vas a splendid triumph for both science and the church; as it gave a new continent to the church for its victories, and to science for its wonder- ful discoveries. This conflict involved no important religious truth: but there is another conflict between some scientists and the church, now waged with unparalleled ability and zeal all over the civilized world. In it are involved some of the vital truths of the Christian religion, and in- deed, of all religions. It involves no less a question than the origin of man -whether he descended from a created Adam, or whether he must tract his ancestr\ LECTUBK OF PROF. SWALLOW. 67 back through a countless series of animals to an infini- tesimal speck of self-evolved sarcode. The one is the teaching of the Bible, the other is the Theory of Evolution. The one is the teaching of God's word; the other claims to be the indication of God's works. But the word and the works of the Cre- ator must agree. If they do not agree in both appear- ance and reality, it is because we do not interpret the one or the other aright. Some appear to think that this disagreement be- tween some scientists and theologians is fatal to both science and religion; but they should rertiember that the expounders of natural laws and Christian teachers are alike fallible men; that they often do make mistakes in their expositions of natural and revealed truths. We might illustrate our ignorance: An ocean steamer is a little world in itself. The owner provides the power for running the steamer and all things needful for the comfort and safety of the pas- sengers. Two philosophic flies happen on one of these steamers. They determine to investigate its nature and laws. One fly goes down into the engine room and finds the water hot and vapory. The other fly investi- gates the dining table and finds the water cold and icy. There comes a grand conclave of the fly people; and the two investigators big with the magnitude of their dis- coveries, come from the antipodes of the ship- world and report. One reports his discovery of water cold as ice y which the people drink; and the other reports his dis- covery of water as hot as fire, which makes the steam to propel the ship. The first positive in the fullness of his knowledge, loftily condemns the discoveries of his fellow-worker as rank heresy, fraught with the most fearful consequences 68 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. to the whole race. For, said lie, if we drink his boiling water, it will kill us all. The other replies with equal zeal and assurance, that the teachings of his co-worker are mere superstitious dogmas, fit only for the ignorant and the vulgar. For, if water were cold it would make no steam, the ship would stop in mid ocean and involve all in universal ruin. The flies take sides. The cold -cater /Hies and the hot water flies wage a bitter contest, until some observer sees the water poured into the tea kettle cold and come out //rade. But the facts show this is not so in a LECTURE OF PROF. SWALLOW. 79 vast number of cases scattered through the whole series from the lowest to the highest. As an illustration, Cephalopods, the very highest order of Mollusks and Trilobites high among the Articulates, appeared among the first animals and the first fishes were much more perfect than their immediate successors, and even than many now living. If the Armor-bearing fishes were developed into the Salachians which succeeded them, the progress must have been like Virgil's descensus in averno, easy and downward. 3RD. Since this theory depends upon the survival of the fittest in the struggle for life, it made a grand mistake when it filled the early seas with a huge race of mailed sharks and ganoids, to be the progenitors of the more perfect and wholly defenceless ^Feliosts. Science has failed to show how the Cod and Tur- bot could be the fittest to survive in the struggle for life with their proginators the Sharks. There are hundreds of similar impossible successors. 4TH. Many animals and plants have had no ances- tors and no progeny. Trilobites had neither ancestors nor posterity. There was no animal for them to be de- veloped from, and they left none to be developed into. It would take a strong power to develop the Elephant out of any animal that lived before him. The same is true of whole races of plants; as our deciduous tre^s. 5TH. The theory demands not only that the lowest of any given order should appear first, but that the highest of the lower order should be followed by the lowest of the succeeding higher order, family or genus. Thus: if A, B, C and D represent successive classes, and the numbers i and 5 represent the different orders in these classes, the theory would demand a regular sue- 80 UNIVERSITY OF MTS8OUKI. cession from lA to 50. Thu> tA, 2 A, jA, 4A, ^A, iB, 26, and so on to 5D. But in fact we usually find the lowest order of any class preceding the highest order of the lower class, thus: iA,2A, ^A-4A, 5A, rF, 2ft, 38, 46, 58, iC, 2C, 30, 4 C, 5C, iD, 2D, 3D, 4 D, 5 D. The last arrangement represents the actual order of progression from class to class in a vast number of cases; as the transition from the Mollusks to the Articulates. The Devil fish is the highest of the Mollusks, and the Worms the lowest of the Articulates. But accord- ing to the Theory, the Devil fish should be both lower than the Worm in the scale of being, and prior to it in point of time; whereas lie is just the contrary in both respects. The Worms were among the earliest anitnais, and the Devil fish, among the latest. And yet the Devil fish must violate all sense of propriety and all order of time to make the theory good. He must per- form the double miracle of transforming his magnificent proportions a body as large as a steamer's boiler, and arms as long as the jack-staff, into a puny mud-worm, who lived millions of years before his ancestors, the Devil-fishes, were born. So often is this arrangement true, that it becomes the rule rather than the exception, and appears to be an insuperable objection to the theory. Many of the changes demanded by Evolution are so supremely preposterous as to provoke a smile and' leave the conviction of utter impossibility. The highest Articulate is a tiny insect, and the first Vertebrate, the next in order of the grade, was a huge fish covered with a thick coat of mail. Could you see the earliest fish ever found on this continent as nature embalmed him in the LECTURE OP FBOF. SWALLOW. 81 rocks of Indiana, side by side with his insect ancestor, you would think it would require about as much of a miracle to develop the fish trom such an ancestor as it would to make him from the dust. 6xH. If all plants and animals have been born of development, there ought to be some proof of such changes within the 5,000 or 6,000 years of the Historical Period. But there is no record, no proof, no claim that a single species has been produced in these long ages. Some have become extinct; but none have been added even by man's aid. We are reminded of many changes producing varieties; but of none that claim the distinc- tion and permanence of species. And besides, nearly all the important variations have been produced by man in the domestic state. The variations of the domestic pigeons are perhaps the most marked, and Mr. Darwin has made them most prominent. Still the extreme varieties are fertile among themselves, and their progeny show marks of the original stock, and a disposition to return to the Rock- Dove. We are also referred to the Berkshire as a great improvement on the wild boar, and the Spanish Merino on the wild sheep. But there is about as much proot that the Hydraulic Ram is the result of development as there is that the Spanish Merino comes from a survival of the fittest in a region populated with bears and wolves and hyenas and lions. But what claim has the Berkshire to superiority as the fittest to survive? Fat. Yes, fat brings more dol- lars and cents! but dollars and cents do not mark the scale of superiority among animals. If fat makes perfect, then the opossum is superior to the squirrel, the hog to the horse, and the African to the Caucassian. 82 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. if, however, the Berkshire is a fair sample of devel- opment, he should be able to survive in an open struggle for life with his undeveloped ancestor. The test is easily made. Turn your Berkshires into the forest with the wild hogs; place them together for the struggle in the same arena where the survival of the fittest, accord- ing to the Theory, has won so many victories in produc- ing so many thousand new animals. No one can doubt the result. If the Berkshire survives at all, it is because he will lose what makes him a Berkshire, because he becomes a wild hog, as many a fat pig has done before. This trial was made under the most favorable cir- cumstances during the late war. By Order Number n, Berkshires, Chester Whites, Poland Chinas, and Racers were turned out to struggle for life in our western coun- ties. A few years after I was surveying that country and saw many of these hogs and their descend entsl But few indications of the improved breeds remained, and the younger specimens bore decided marks of lapsing to the original type. And this is what we should expect from the very laws of life. There are volumes of facts to show: that horses, oxen, dogs and hogs, riming wild, gradually lose all domestic variation and assume a uniformity of color, size, and structure supposed to be, and in some cases known to be, like the primitive wild stocks. This is clearly shown by the wild horses of Tarta- ry and in a less degree by the wild horses of the Falk- land Islands and South America, and the semi-wild herds of the North American Indians. The wild horses of America have changed less as they have been in a wild state a much shorter time. But the variations in domestic animals are much less LECTURE OF PKOF. SWALLOW. than would be at first thought supposed. Those which are at all marked, are confined to a few species; while the others have scarcely changed at all for many thou- sand years. Many figures and embalmed specimens of our domestic animals and plants, have come down to us from the ancient nations of Mesopotamia and Egypt, which shows that their li\ ing descendents have made no material progress for the last forty or fifty centuries. We also have still more ancient proofs of this perma- nence of type in the domestic animals and plants from the ruins of the Swiss Lake dwellings, and the Danish Shell-heaps, and the Cave-dwellers of Central Europe. Should it be even admitted that domestication has produced new species, the fact would scarcely make the evolution by natural selection possible; since there is so little analogy between the possibilities of the domestic and wild states. You might as well attempt to prove that our native Crab-apple was developed from the Maw, because man can grow BellflowefS on the domesticated Siberian Crab; as to prove the- horse was developed from the ass, because the carrier pigeon is the progeny of the wild Rock-dove. This difference of possibilities between the wild and domestic state, is well shown in the hog and pigeon. Great as are the changes produced in the domestic hog and pigeon, it is known that their wild representatives have made no perceptible changes since the flood, either by natural selection or by the survival of the fittest. If then we would measure the probabilities of form- ing new species by natural selection, our illustrations must come from the natural or wild state; since that is the only state where natural selection can act, and the only place where species have been formed, if formed at all, by natural powers. 84 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. We must, therefore, hold the changes produced by man in domestication, of little value in this discussion. ^TH. But every one of the numerous breaks in the series of animals, has a significance of the highest value in this relation, since each and every one of them must prove fatal to evolution. For Pope's couplet is em- phatically and literally true here: "From nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike." And yet there are hundreds of thousands of these breaks, missing links, impassable gulfs, over which science has found no bridge. But it is said the missing links are buried in the Geological Records. This is a delusion ; for Geology is the most unhealthy place for Darwinism imaginable. To illustrate: let us examine one only of these many thousand breaks in the succession ; and let us take one with which all are familiar, and one that presents the fewest difficulties to the progress of evolution the link between the monkey and man in its physical aspects. All admit there is a break between the man and the monkey, as they now exist, which must be filled by a series of beings gradient by small steps of progress from the monkey to the man. These gradient beings must have been very numerous and of too remarkable a char- acter to be over looked if now living, or for their re- mains to be lost, it they ever did live. (a.) It is very remarkable that all these gradient an- imals, which connected these two living races, and by which the monkey was developed into man, should have utterly perished. All the gradients, all the links be- tween the Carrier Pigeon and the Tumbler, and those between the Bull-dog and the Grey-hound, are still liv- LECTURE OF PKOF. SWALLOW. 86 ing and more nu/nerous than ever before. Will some Darwinian tell us why all of man's nearest and best an- cestors have become extinct, while the hundreds of thou- sands more remote and less desirable, still live like poor relations to remind us that we are something worse than mortal ? If these gradient animals between the man and the monkcv were fitter to live than the monkey, as the Theory of Evolution implies, why have they all perish- ed while so many monkeys live? (b.) Men and monkeys have lived together upon the earth ever since the origin of man, sometime in the Drift Period, which evolutionists say was 300,000 years ago; and the monkey came into being in the Eocene, the dawn of the vast cycles of the Tertiary. This surely gives us time enough to test the theory. The monkeys have left their remains, recording their history in all the rocks of these vast cycles and in all the continents, in Asia, Africa, North and South America and in Europe. Their history has been tolera- bly well written up. Man has lived in Europe since the Drift Period, in Asia and Africa probably as long, and in America near- ly as long. He has buried his bones and scattered with free hand his implements, his carvings, his monuments, his temples, his dwellings, his traditions, and his books all along the ages and all over the world. From these abundant materials, man's history too is pretty well made up. Man has searched with untiring zeal for all that is new and old; he has desecrated tombs and temples to lay open their mysteries; he has exhumed ancient cities Herculuneum, Troy and Ninevah give up their hoary records he lias, also, fished up from the depths of Swiss UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. lakes the remains of their ancient Lake Dwellers; un- earthed the Mound- Builders and Axtects of America; dug up the Cave-dwellers* of Europe; and searched all the rocks these hundred years; and yet he has not found a mark nor a fragment to show there ever were any beings between the man and the monkey, that man was ever any more like a monkey than he now is, or that the monkey was ever more of a man than now. The embalmed men and monkey's of the Egyptian tombs, are the same as the living men and monkeys, no nearer together, no farther apart. The still more ancient traditions and mythologies make the most ancient men heroes and demi-gods, quite as perfect as we are.' Of the pre-historic man, the most ancient relic found in Europe about which there can be no doubt or dispute, is the Engis Skull. Of this skull, Prof. Huxley say*: "It is a fair human skull." The oldest skull found in America about which there can be no question of origin, is the New Madrid skull, which is a fair Caucassian skull. It might have been of a Hebe or of an Eve. We also have ancient skulls of a lower type; but none lower than the skulls of some living men. The history of the monkev shows that he is no nearer a man now than he was at the beginning. The rocks show no intervening varieties. We must conclude, therefore, that the wide chasm between the physical structure of the man and the mon- key is not and never has been filled ; and that there is no evidence whatever making it physically possible to de- rive man from the monke} 7 . ffl. EMBRYOLOGY. But one of the most plausible arguments of the Kv- LECTURE OF PROF. SWALLOW. 87 olutionists, is drawn from Embryology. The embryos of the higher animals resemble the embryos of the lower ones in the early stages of development; therefore, the higher animals are developed from the lower. As the embryo of a man is like a fish at one stage of its devel- opment, so man was developed from a fish. But Agassiz, who had studied Embryology more thouroughly than any man living or dead, said this argu- ment had no valid foundation. No embryo has produced a being either above or below the parental species. Prof. Virchow, the best living authority, bears the same testimony as Agassiz. IV. THE ORIGIN OF THINGS. But if all other difficulties were removed, it there were a complete series of animals from the lowest to the highest all having such close affinities that each could be traced to its ancestral species, there would still remain three insuperable objections to 'Evolution as a system of nature. ist. It does not account for the Star-Dust, the orig- inal matter from which the worlds were evolved. Development is the evolving of something out of something else, or some other thing. Hence Develop- ment cannot evolve something out of nothing, or the original matter of the worlds out of nothing. And, besides, Development acts by the laws of na- ture and by these laws only. But these laws are mere properties of matter, inherent in and dependent upon matter for their powers of action, and for their very ex- istence. These laws, therefore, or Development acting by them, cannot originate the matter of which they are the mere properties. Science clearly indicates a first cause, which must 88 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. be without and superior to nature* Science too as such, must accept whatever first cause best meets and explains all facts and conditions of the natural world, whatever first cause is in best accord with science itself, or the laws of nature. Several theories of the origin of the material world, have been proposed. But that promulgated more than 3500 years ago by one Moses, a learned Egyptian, de- clares the first cause to be a supreme being,, immortal, invisible, all-wise, benevolent, and the Creator of all things. Scientists have generally accepted the Mosaic Theory, as in best accord with the teachings of science itself. It is true that men love to hear and believe some- thing new and strange; but neither common sense nor science will give up this theory of a Creator until some- thing better is proposed. You might as well expect the passe'ngers of an ocean steamer to give up their good ship in mid ocean and take passage in a leaky skiff, as to give up the Mosaic Creator for Evolution. 2nd. Evolution gives no solution of the origin of life and the peculiar structure of Organic Beings. Science has clearly shown there was a time when neither plant nor animal existed on the earth; when there was nothing but inorganic matter, dust and rocks. There were no laws governing life and living be- ings; for there were no life and living beings to be gov- erned. But in the progress of events,, plants and animals appeared upon the earth, and with them the laws, such as digestion and assimilation, which control organic be- ings. Several theories have been proposed to account for LECTURE OF PROF. SWALLOW. 89 the origin of living things. Among others we have had Spontaneous Generation, the Fortuitous Concourse of Atoms, and Evolution. Which of these is most plausi- ble, I am unable to tell. And it would be difficult to say in what they differ. But none of them are known in nature; and science has as clearly proved them impossible, as it is possible to prove a negative, by showing that all living things come from eggs and that all eggs are produced by living be- ings. So certain are we of this that our laws and juris- prudence are based upon it. Upon its certainty we im- prison and hang men and women. In short we hold this scientific principle more sacred than we do proper- ty, character and life itself. How then can we believe in spontaneous genera- tion? in the Evolution of animals? It is quite certain that Evolution cannot produce living things; for in them we find life, and new laws so strong as to overcome the pre-existing laws. The laws which raise up the oak and the elephant, overcome grav- ity and inertia; and those which form sugar, starch, blood and muscle, overcome pre-existing affinities. Evolution can only transform, and there was noth- ing in nature to be transformed into life. But it is said Evolution works through the laws of nature. But no facts, no science, has shown that one law can produce another law superior to itself. It is therefore utterly impossible for the Evolution Theory to account for the origin of organic beings, and the laws of life. Here again, the Mosaic Theory is the only one yet proposed, able to solve this problem of the origin of liv- ing beings. The Supreme Being of this Theory, has the power, the wisdom and benevolence to give the life 90 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. and the superior laws of organic beings. And there are no facts, no science, which militate against this Theory of Creation, though promulgated 3000 years before the rise of modern science. If on the morrow, we should find new houses and cities springing up all over our prairies, houses not made with hands or any other known power; if we should see the soil rise up into the .houses and form itself into foundation ashlers harder than adament and more beau- tiful than rubies; the clay rise and form itself into bricks in the wall, more delicate than opal, and the sand into windows as clear and sparkling as diamonds all form- ing houses more gorgeous and brilliant than the palaces of the Arabian Nights; if we should see cars rolling through the mid heavens without track or engine, but self-poised and self-impelled, and leaving trails as bright as rainbows; if on the morrow we should see for the first 'time such wonderful beings with power to multiply themselves indefinitely, would we say they had sprung spontaneous from the earth? that they had been produc- ed by Development? or rather, would we not say they are the work of some supernatural power? that they are the creatures of the Supreme Being of the Mosaic Theory ? Should such new and wonderful beings appear, it would not be so strange as the first animals and plants were. Man might think he could build a house; but none save Drs. Crosse and Sebastian, would undertake to make the oak or the elephant. 3rd. We find in man, in all men everywhere, a strong inate apprehension of some external invisible power, which, in a greater or less degree, moulds our destinies and metes out to us the good and evil of life; whose anger, therefore, all deprecate with sacrifices, arid LECTURE OF PROP. SWALLOW. 91 whose favor all propitiate with prayers and vows. Some call this universal element of man's nature by one name, some by another. Comte calls it Superstition, Virgil, Piety; Sir Humphrey Davy and Dr. Carpenter call it Religion. Call it what you will, no animal but man has it. No animal but man, has a moral nature, knows right from wrong, repents, prays* sacrifices. No monkey has superstition or religion; no brute fears or loves the un- known powers, whether they be gods or demons. Hence there is nothing in the brute that can be de- veloped into man's religious nature. You might per- haps develop a monkey out of his tail, and make him stand erect; his posterior hands may be transformed into those beautiful things concealed in No. 2 gaiters; the teeth and facial angle changed; the diabolical grin, transformed into the ineffable smile of a mother's love; yea, and that tongue, taught to utter the words of affec- tion, fidelity and truth ; while we admit the possibility, but not the probability of these wonderful changes, we most positively declare that science has shown no fact, developed no principles, indicating the possibility of de- riving man's moral and religious natures from any intel- lectual power of any brute. But the Theory of Moses recognizes and provides for this higher nature of man. "God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul*' an "Image of God." Thus Moses places man infinitely -above all other animals, gives him a brotherhood with angels, and a son- ship in Deity. Shall we then give up this Creation of Moaes, which thus elevates us and unites our destinies with the 92 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. infinite, for this Evolution of Darwin, that links us to the worm, gives us a sonship in the monkey and binds us to the beasts that perish ? As a Christian student of science, I protest. In the name of all the splericficT achievements and utilities of science, in the name of all the grandeur of moral truth, and all the sublime hopes of immortality, I am compell- ed to protest against such a^sale of man's birth-right. LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF '' f^. AT TV > f'f'V J * INSECT WAYS. BY SAMUEL M. TRACY, M. S., PROFESSOR OF EN- TOMOLOGY AND ECONOMIC BOTANY AND SUPERIN- TENDENT OF GARDENS. In the "Poet at the Breakfast Table" Oliver Wen- dell Holmes tells us of a man who had devoted his whole life to the study of one group of insects, the Scarabeans, and the height of whose ambition was to be known to the world as a Scarabeist, to be an acknowledged au- thority on that one family of beetles. Clinging to the body of the common bumble-bee is frequently found a little beetle not more than a sixteenth of an inch in length, and to determine whether this insect was a true parasite, or simply attached itself to the bee in order to be carried to the nest, there to live on the food stored up by the bee, was a question to which this man had given the best years of his life. ^ It may be questioned whether it is wise for a person, to devote a whole life to the solution of a problem which is comparatively of so little practical or scientific import- ance, but it is undoubtedly true that a more intimate ac- quaintance with insect life and insect ways would be of far more value to us than is usually estimated, and would amply repay a greater amount of study than is generally given to other branches of Natural History. The weather is a universal topic of conversation; not a daily paper do we read without seeing reports and 94 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOUK1. predictions concerning the weather in different parts of the country. The United States government has estab- lished stations at all important places where daily signals are shown indicating the approach of storms or of pleasant weather. During* -the past month the papers have heen full of reports of the injury done to the fruit trees by the severe cold of the past winter. I^ast summer there was a universal cry of drouth from Texas to Minnesota, and not a season passes in which some portion of our country is not so del- uged with rain as to render travel almost impossible and the farmer's labor fruitless. Violent wind and excessive rain, severe cold and long continued drouth, notwithstanding the fact that they rank in popular opinion as the vicegerents of the Almighty in fixing upon man the primal curse, "By the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread" 1 do not, even with their combined forces, entail upon us as much labor and loss as do the insignificant and often unnoticed insects which are to be found almost wherever we will take the trouble to look for them. Were it not for our insect foes the products of the soil would be nearly or quite doubled annually. There is not a crop to which the farmer can devote his attention which is not invariably injured to a greater or less extent by these almost invisible foes, and often the greatest care and the most unremitting vigilance cannot save his property from utter destruction. Wheat suffers from the chinch bug, the Hessian fly and the weevil, corn from the white grub and the corn worm, potatoes from the wireworm, the potato beetle and the blister beetle, the grape from the phylloxera, the apple from the codling moth and the borer, the peach from the borer and the curculio. the latter of these insects having made a perfect LECTURE OF PROF. TRACY. 95 peach an unusual sight in some districts, besides taking the plum from the list of our common fruits and making it a great rarity. While these and many other injurious insects confine themselves to certain plants which are their natural food and so may be in a manner controlled and mastered, we have still to contend with the army worm and the grasshopper which devour every green thing which grows in their path. Is it not then worth our while to give some time and attention to the study of a form of life which exerts such a powerful influence upon our prosperity as indi- viduals and as a nation; Yet so limited is the popular information regarding insects that many who sufler most from their ravages fail to recognixe their enemies at sight. Even the common white grub worm of our gar- dens is rarely known for its true self, the next summer's June bug, and the wrigglers so abundant in stagnant rainwater and shallow ponds do not always receive the honors to which the musical mosquito is justly entitled. These are two insects which are among the most com- mon, and with which we all feel quite too intimately ac- quainted, yet close attention and some knowledge of scientific Entomology is necessary to make it easy to see the relation between their early incompleteness, and their later perfect development. We almost need to see the shining beetle emerging from his underground home, and the mosquito using his discarded wriggler shell as a support for his new long legs as he plumes his newly, found wings for his first aerial voyage, to be sure that the books are not wrong about it after all. For developing powers of exact observation, close watchfulness and attention to minute details, no branch of Natural History is more valuable than the study of insect life and ways. No where else do we find such an 96 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. infinitude of forms and at the same time such a general conformity to a very few leading type?; nowhere else do we find organized beings passing through such a series of what might be called successive lives, and in each life assuming bodies varying so widely that the future form can never be predicted from the present one. The earliest form of insect life is the same as the earliest form of all other animal life, and egg, but here all resemblance ends, for the moment the egg is hatched the insect differs from all other animals as widely as does the bird from the fish. The eggs of all insects are minute, and the beings which are hatched from them are correspondingly small. Usually the product of the egg is a small worm- like creature, provided with a head and mouth and six legs under the forward part of its long body. Some- times, but not always, this worm, caterpillar, grub or larva is also provided with eyes, small hairlike feelers, and several pairs of short wart-like legs to assist in carry- ing the bulky hinder part of its body. Other larva? are destitute of either eyes or legs and spend their whole lives within a few inches of where they are hatched. The one great object in life for the young larva seems to be the same as that of many animals of a much higher organization it lives to eat and eats, in some cases, as the larva of the silk moth, more than its own weight daily. Such a rapid consumption of food has a $ery natural tendency to an increase in size. When we were children and our arms grew to be too long for our sleeves and our increasing girth proved too severe a strain on our buttons, parental care furnished us with larger clothes but the voracious larva when his skin is too tight for his daily dinner, splits it in the back and \valks out clad .in a new garment grown to fit his new LECTURE OF PROF. TRACY. 97 < development, and so much more nearly ready for his final change. It is during this larval or wormlike life that by far the larger portion of the total supply ot the food for the insect is consumed and assimilated. Indeed many insects which, as larvae, ravage large tracts of country and in- flict incalculable damage are perfectly harmless when they reach their mature form, taking no food excepting perhaps an occasional sip of honey from the flower which happens to be r,heir resting place, and in a few in- stances being quite unprovided with any means of tak- ing nourishment We see this in the army worm which sometimes takes its course over a whole state destroying 'everything in its way as completely as if the country had been swept by fire. When this insect reaches its adult or perfect form it is an innocent dusky brown moth, which never causes the slightest harm to any plant. I may mention here that although the army worm has been known and dreaded ever since the first settlement of the country, to this day no man knoweth whence they come or whither they go. They appear in vast armies, devastate a track of country and then disap- pear as suddenly and mysteriously as they came. En- tomologists have captured the worms and kept them in confinement until they passed through their variotis changes and were transformed into moths, but with all the study and watchfulness which have been devoted to the subject it is not known when or where the eggs are laid which produce these destroying hordes. The eggs of insects are almost invariably laid near where the young larva can find an abundance of food; indeed this is an absolute necessity, as, if the newly hatch- ed larva, often not more than a twentieth of an inch in length, were compelled to travel any distance in search 98 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. of food it would inevitably perish from starvation. In some instances, as with bees, the -larva is hatched and goes through all its changes to the form of the perfect insect without moving from the cell in which the egg was deposited, all its food being brought to it by the mature bees, usually however when the larva is fully grown it is quite active and frequently trarels considera- ble distances in search of food. This larval or wormlike stage of insect life continues for a variable length of time, ranging from a few days as with the silk worm, to one or two years, and even long- er, as with the 17 year cicada, which receives its name from the time required for its development from the egg to the perfect insect. At the conclusion of this -second stage, or what might be called the preparatory life of the insect, it passes into its third or chrysalis form in which it bears little more resemblance to a living animal than does the egg from which it was hatched, and it still gives little promise of the beautiful moth or gaudily-colored butter- fly, which a few weeks or months may bring from it; indeed it bears a much closer resemblance to the egg than to the mature insect. It is usually nearly round, somewhat pointed at each end, and sometimes a dim out- line of the wings is visible and two small knobs may be seen near one end indicating the future position of the eye*. The chrysalis is entirely destitute of any means of locomotion and has no way of taking food, in fact, the only sign of life it is able to make is bv slightly bending itself when disturbed. The changes from the larva to the chrysalis, and from the chrysalis to the perfect form are two of the most interesting phases of insect life. When the larva feels old age approaching it seeks a suitable place, some- LECTURE OF PKOF. TKACY. 99 times a branch of a tree, the under side of a board, a crack in a fence, or, perhaps, burrows into the ground. There it makes some sort of a covering for itself; if above ground and a moth it usually spins a cocoon of silk, fastening the webs together with a 'gum-like sub- stance which immediately hardens on exposure to the air. This cocoon often contains more than a thousand feet of silk, its color, strength and fineness, depending upon the species of worm which spins it. The cocoon of the Cecropia, which is our largest American moth, and sometimes measures nearly eight inches across the wings, may be frequently found attached to the branches of apple and plum trees. If these cocoons are gathered during the winter and kept safely until May or June we can easily watch the moth as it bursts out into its new and perfect life, and leaves the silken walls that have protected it through the winter. For a day or two be- fore the moth emerges it may be heard in its endeavors to escape, and finally its head will be seen peering through an opening in one end of the cocoon where the walls were simply glued together and were not as strong as in other parts. The moth slowly emerges, taking perhaps half an hour for the operation, and then it stands upon the top of its former home drenched with the fluid with which it was abundantly lubricated to as- sist it in its escape from the cocoon, and weary with its long struggle. The observer may possibly think the in- sect deformed, as, in the place of the gaudy wings which all are accustomed to see, our moth has only what ap- pears like a bit of limp rag on each side of its body; but wait until it is rested and you will see it try to raise those shapeless wings, again it tries, and again, with no better success, but with each effort its wings have in- creased in size and begin to assume their natural form. 100 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI.. The moth continues its efforts and as the wings expand and dry, we begin to see the beautiful designs of the colors with which it is adorned. In the course of an- other half hour our moth is ready to fly unless we pre- vent it by a few drops of benzine applied to its abdo- men to stop its breathing and so kill it. It will be much safer to keep the cocoon in a box covered with mosquito netting or otherwise the moth may make its escape with- out our knowledge. I have spoken of the cocoon of a moth because that is the largest and the most readily observed. Those in- sects which build their cocoons by gluing together bits of chips which they have bored from solid wood, or those which descend into the ground and there make for themselves a vault-like earthern covering, go through substantially the same changes. After such a long time of development it would seem that the life of the mature insect should be corres- pondingly long. In nearly all other animals, certainly among all the higher animals, the period of youth and growth bears but a small proportion to the whole life, but among insects we find this rule reversed. However long the larval life may have been, the adult life is al- ways very short, sometimes only a frw hours, usually but a few days or weeks, and it is very seldom indeed that it reaches twelve months. Most of our moths live but a few days, and the Cicada which has spent nearly seventeen years in preparing for active life enjoys this life for only a brief month. The only object of the ma- ture life seems to be the laying of eggs to provide for future generations, this done the insect has fulfilled its mission and is ready to make room for its successors. What I have given is a brief outline of the life-his- tory of most insects. Some acquiring their perfect form LECTURE OF PROP. TRACY. 101 without passing through all the preliminary stages. Doubtless many in my audience are thoroughly fa- miliar with the development of the grasshopper, which hatches from the egg a true hopper and perfectly able to travel, differing from the adult form only in being smaller and destitute of wings. The young hopper sheds its skin frequently, each time increasing in size, the first scale-like wings increasing also until in a few weeks it is fully grown. So much of insect life history has been given be- cause a knowledge of this is absolutely necessary for an understanding of many habits and actions which would otherwise be entirely unaccountable. Darwin assuredly made a great mistake when he en- deavored to find the missing link which should unite us with our unintellectual ancestors the monkeys. He probably saw that physically some men bore a striking resemblance to some monkeys, and then jumped to the conclusion that all men were related, distantly it is true, but still related to monkeys. He should have remem- bered that mind is higher than matter, and he should have looked for mental rather than for merely physical resemblances. We have certainly copied more mental traits and physical habits from insects than monkeys ever thought of having. Almost all of our industries are copied from those of our insect friends; while many of our mental and moral characteristics seem to be but a higher development of the same qualities which may be found more or less prominent among these so-called lower organizations. Here in our University \ve have a Department of Engineering, but 1 venture to say that even in the Fac- ulty of that department there is not one who will claim the necessary knowledge, even when aided by unlimited 102 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. money and labor, for the construction of such suspension bridges as are built by the spider alone and untaught. As mining engineers insects rank far above poor weak and ignorant mankind. Ants have been known to turn broad rivers, rivers so broad that to turn the Atlantic ought, in comparison, to be an easy task to us with all our scientific aids. Who, among our miners, will ever attempt an excavation 500 miles in depth; but this would be no greater work in proportion to our size than is often performed by Texas ants. Were we provided with more instinctive wisdom and less acquired knowl- edge we might, perhaps, be able to do some great work which should rival those of our insect teachers. Some insects arc masons, as the wasp, whose six or eight- roomed house of stone and mortar may be found fast- ened to the rafters of almost every old barn. Carpenters are almost as plentiful among insects as among men, but with this difference, that their manner of working is usually the reverse of ours: we gather our materials and place them around the room, while the insect carpenter bores out the room and leaves the walls. As paper makers the wasps are decidedly in ad- vance of us. They manufacture an article which is thin, light, durable and entirely waterproof, paper of which they build houses to withstand the rain and wind for years and which are more impervious to water than are our walls of brick and stone. Insects do not paint the interior of their homes, but many of them, nearly all of them when young, have their chambers hung with finer tapestry than was ever wrought by human hands. In mental characteristics we find a strong likeness existing between ourselves and insects. We all knovr the necessity of providing for the future, of having something kid by for a rainy dav do not the ants set LECTURE OF PROF. TRACY. 108 us the example? Do the strong among us take advan- tage of the weak many species of ants capture smaller species arid keep them in subjection, depending entirely on the attentions of their captives to support their own lives, which lives are spent only in capturing fresh vic- tims. Are we miserly the bee spends its life in laying up treasure largely in excess of what it can by any pos- sibility require for its own use. Have we devout hypo- crites among- usthere is the praying mantis, an inno- cent looking leaf-like insect which will sit for hours with its arms upraised to heaven in apparent supplication for forgiveness for its many offences, but let an unwary fly approach and the praying is instantly changed to prey- ing of a different kind, as the fly learns to its sorrow. The pernicious and dangerous habit of carrying concealed weapons was very probably adopted by some of our ancestors after an unsuccessful attempt to impose upon a yellow jacket. Professional life seems to be entirely unknown among insects. So far as we can discover they have neither lawyers, doctors nor teachers. Their disputes are all satisfactorily settled by the duel; sickness is almost unknown and the young are as wise as the old. Insects are not only our teachers, but are often our friends and benefactors. The cochineal, so extensively used as a scarlet dye, consists simply of the dried bodies of certain insects. Our best inks are manufactured from oak galls which once formed the leafy home of a gall fly. To the bee we are indebted for honey and for that more necessary product, wax. The Bible speaks of locusts and wild honey as articles of food that locusts form a staple article of food among some tribes of American Indians, and during the invasions of 1874 and 1875 many frontier settlers were glad to subsist on a diet 104 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. of grasshoppers.' One of the leading restaurateurs of St. Louis, under the direction of our State Etomologist, Prof. Riley, gave a large dinner where each course con- sisted of grasshoppers in some form. The dinner is said to have been excellent. When walking in the woods or fields we almost never see a dead bird although we may see scores of nests, and we know that the birds which have been reared in these nests indicate very closely the number that have died during the year. The reason for this is very simple: the body of a dead bird has hardly fallen to the ground before it is surrounded by a number of sextons in the form of beetles who at once proceed to dig a grave, lower the bodv into it and then cover it as care- fully as though it were the remains of a loved one. But this kind attention is due only to the maternal instinct which thus provides food for the young beetles which these busy sextons have buried in this new-made grave. Even our common house flies, which are usually re- garded as unmitigated nuisances, play an important part in domestic economy, acting as scavengers, clearing the decaying filth from the most minute crevises and corners where it would be undetected by the eye ef the most vigilant housekeeper, and whence it could hardly be re- moved even by the most careful hands. The more neat the housekeeping the less need lor these little house- cleaners, and, wiser in their generation than many of the human race, they always know where they are wanted. Silk is an article which is in almost universal use, and in many parts of the world the production of the silk fiber is obtained by carefully unwinding the cocoon made by the larva of a small white moth which is very nearly related to the cecropia and lunar moths, our largest American species and which frequently enter our houses L.ECTUBE OF PBOF. TRACY. 105 on summer evenings. The eggs of this moth can be preserved without hatching for months by keeping them cool. When the sericulturist wishes them to hatch they are placed in a room having a temperature of about 75 and there they are hatched in about five days. The room is usually provided with wide shelves about two and a half feet apnrt, and on these shelves the worms are reared. Mosquito netting is covered with a layer of fresh Mulberry or Osage Orange leaves and is then spread lightly over the young worms which soon pass upward through the meshes in order to reach the leaves their food. Fresh leaves must be supplied at least twice each day from this time onward. Each time it is supplied by placing it on netting or lattice work screens and allowing the worms to leave their stale food for fresher pastures, and enabling the cultivator to clear the shelves of the dried leaves and litter which have accum- ulated. In about thirty-five days the worm spins its cocoon which is composed of a double thread of silk of such exceeding fineness that more than 625 miles of it are required for a single ounce. If the moth is allowed to mature the cocoon is ruined, and so, to secure the fibre uninjured the insect is killed by subjecting it to heat soon after it has entered the chrysalis state. For the production of an ounce of silk the lives of fully 3,500 insects must be sacrificed. vSericulture ib still in its infancy in this country, but interest in the business is rapidly increasing, and as it can be carried on with but a small amount of capital, and all of the work can be performed by women and children unfitted for more laborious tasks, it may be hoped that the time is not far distant when we shall raise our own silk as well as our own cotton. Doubtless every insect has its use. Someone has 106 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. defined a weed as a plant for which no use has yet been discovered and our so called noxious insects may be like the weeds of which we do not know the value. Many insects certainly seem to be much more injurious than valuable, and if a few of these troublesome ones could be annihilated, so far as we can see the world would be much advantaged by their loss. Could mosquitoes b abolished we should hear very few regrets but in some inscrutable wav they may be as essential to health as are the omnipresent house flies. *If all insects are useful the usefulness of many of them is certainly given us at a very great cost. The products of the soil either directly or indirectly are our only sources of food and clothing but in order to harvest a crop of any kind we must wage a constant warfare with insects which also depend upon vegetation for their food. Wheat is our staple article of food, but from the time the seed is put into the ground until it is eaten swarms of insects hover over it literally eager to take the bread out of our mouths. It has hardly made its ap- pearance above the ground when the Hessian fly depos- its her eggs on the tender leaves. The eggs soon hatch and the young larvae make their way to the bottom of the plant, there to suck its juices and spend the winter. The larva? mature and come forth as flies early in the spring and deposit another set of eggs on the leaves of such plants as have escaped the first attacks, and when it is time for the wheat to send up its grain laden heads its weak and consumptive look shows but too plainly that its life-blood has been sucked away by these countless vampires. If the Hessian fly does not destroy the crop the chinch bug will frequently take possession of the field a few days before harvest time and instead of the upright straw and well filled heads of grain we find LECTURE OF PROF. TRACY. 107 only broken stems and withered heads of chaff. The chinch bug may come too late and find that the army worms or grasshoppers have already harvested the crop, leaving nothing but the bare earth behind them. If the wheat escapes all these dangers any one of several species of weevils may attack the grain. If the crop is safely harvested and threshed and stored in the granary, still other weevils may find it there and soon leave noth- ing but empty shells in the place of the plump grains. Even if taken to the mill and ground into flour it will be very difficult to keep it for any length of time with- out having it ruined by the attacks of the meal worm. These are by no means the only insects which attack the wheat the wheat beetles, the wheat joint-worm, the wheat ophis, the wheat midge and the wheat moth all depend on the wheat crop for their sustenance; and hosts of other insects visit the wheat fields for an occasional meal. Corn is used largely on our tables and is the staple food for our domestic animals. The cut worm, the white grub worm and the wire worm attack its roots, the army worm, the grasshopper and the chinch bugs its leaves, and several species of weevils and moths the grain, both when in the field and in the granary. So too with all other crops; none are exempt from the dan- ger of being -entirely destroyed, and seldom or never does a crop escape more or less injury from insect depre- dations. Trees are no more exempt from such attacks than are herbaceous plants. During the last two years the Michigan lumberman are making loud complaints that the pine forests of that state are being destroyed by countless borers, insects which take their name from the manner in which the larvas eat into or through the tree so as to render the lumber useless for manufacturing pur- 108 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI, poses, and often to destroy the life of the tree. There is probably not a tree on our campus which does not contain a number of some species of borers. If a tree is vigorous it may withstand the attacks of these insects for a long time, but the less vigorous the tree the more lia- ble it is to attack. Only last week one fine hickory was removed because the borers had killed it, and several other large trees must soon follow. Fruit trees suffer severely from these insect enemies. Two species of borers infest the trunk of the apple tree, fcark-lice the bark, the tent caterpillar and the canker worm the leaves, and in many seasons the codling moth permits us to gather almost none but worm-eaten fruit. It is true that we seldom have all of these destruc- tive insects to contend with in any one season, and fortu- nate it is for us that we do not. Some ot them are with us constantly, but owing to unfavorable seasons, the presence of other insects which feed upon them or some other cause, they do but little harm and pass unnoticed perhaps for years, and then, without apparent cause, multiply so rapidly as to defy computation. Other species seem to come in waves r appearing in overwhelming numbers for a time and then disappearing as suddenly as they came. Such was the case with the potatoe beetle which began its eastward march from the Rocky Mountains in 1859. This vast -army reaching from Minnesota to Texas swept across the country at a rate of about 70 miles a year, reaching" the Atlantic coast in 1875, more than doubling- the price of potatoes as it advanced. This destroying hoard did not stop when the seashore was reached, but boldly plunged into the ocean and the shores of many of the islands border- ing our eastern coast were in some places covered to a depth of several inches bv the beetle^ which were LECTURE OF PROF. TRACY. 109 washed up by the waves. European seaports have adopted strict regulations to prevent the landing of this unwelcome traveler upon their shores, but it is greatly to be feared that it will yet gain a foothold there and prove as destructive as it has in its native land. For several years these beetles have been decreasing in numbers in the western states, and during the past two years we have seen almost none of them. They may return, but the wave seems to have passed over us for the present. The grasshopper which has so devastated much of the country west of us is only an occasional visitor which cannot long endure the climate of the open plains, and when it leaves its mountain home can live but a few generations at the longest. A number of our most troublesome insects, like our worst weeds, are imported species. The meal-worm, the dread of every miller, comes to us from Surope. So too does the Hessian .fly, which is a part of the price we are paying for our National existence, it having been brought to this country by the Hessian soldiers during the Revolutionary war. Among the later importations we have the rose slug which made its first appearance in the east about 1830, reaching St. Louis in 1873, and Co- lumbia in 1875. The cabbage worm was first noticed on this continent at Quebec in 1859 and last year we had no opportunity to mourn its absence from this locality. The wheat midge, the grain weevil, the codling moth and the clothes moth are all foreign species. Should the potato beetle succeed in reaching Europe it will do a great deal toward paying our debts in this direction. Some insects, like some plants, have an extremely limited geographical range. The Tsetse fly of Africa, a single bite of which is fatal to a horse, has its range as sharply defined as is that of forest and prairie, but ivhy HO UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. its range should be so limited there is .no visible reason as no river or mountain chain separates its home from the surrounding country. In the United States there is a small white moth which lives in the flower of the Yacca, Adam's needle or Spanish bayonet as it is some- times called a common plant which is found in almost every garden here. The moth is found only where this plant is grown, and the plant bears seed only where the moth is found. The eggs of the moth are laid in the ovary of the flower the flower cannot be fertilized without artificial aid, and in the act of laying its egg the moth transfers a portion of the pollen to the pestil and renders the flower fruitful. The plant is necessary for a home for the moth the moth is necessary for the fer- tilization of the flower which was created for the other? and which was created fh>t? Tn summits of the White Mountains in ]SVw Hampshire have a monopoly of some species of insects, and some of the valleys and lake basins in the Rock} Mountains monopolize other species, while still others, though very few are found from Maine to California and Brazil. Concerning the numbers of insects but little is defi- nitely known. Of other animals about 55,000 species have been described; of insects over 190,000 species have already been described and it is estimated that they constitute at least four-fifths of the animal kingdom. Hundreds of new species are being discovered every year and the insect found of many large tracts of coun- try is still almost unknown. Until within comparatively few years but little attention was given to the subject of Entomology, and the science is now far behind most other branches of Natural History. Linna'us, so uni- versally known as the father of Botany, might with LECTURE OF PROF. TRACY. Ill equal justice be called the father of Entomology also, for he was the first to make any general or scientific classification of insects, and his classification with but one slight change, dividing one of the orders into two is the one now in general use. His classification w r as made in 1735 and it is since that time that nearly all of the present knowledge of insect life has been gained. Linnaeus named and described many thousands of species. Fabricius and Latreille continued the work. Until the time of Agassi/ little progress was made in the science in this country and it is largely to him that we owe our present knowledge of the insects of North America. Packard, Harris, Leconte, Thomas, Walsh and Riley have all contributed largely to our fund of information, and there- is no other portion of the world of equal extent where insects are as well known as in the United States. But even here much remains to be done. During 1878 one young lady living in Illinois discovered no less than eighteen new species, all of them within a few miles of her own home. The botanist who discovers a new plant feels, and justly too, that he has made a valuable addition to scientific knowledge, but it may be doubted whether there is a botanist in Missouri who within the past year, or in the past ten years even, has discovered three hitherto unknown species of plants. The life history and habits of all our more common insects have been published in the state reports by almost every state in the Union, but so much still remains to be done that no one has yet attempted to gather into one volume a compendium of what has already been accom- plished. The insects of Missouri have been more thoroughly described than those of any other western state, but the descriptions are scattered through nine bulky and ill-arranged volumes which it is now almost 112 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. impossible to obtain. A bill is now pending in our State Legislature to have these reports revised, re-ar- ranged and republished in a more available form, and certainly the small amount of money necessary for the work could not be more judiciously expended. Among the more important things we need to know concerning noxious insects are: to recognize the insect whenever we see it. It is not sufficient that we recognize it at the time it is destroying the fruits of our labors, but we must be able to identify it at any time when an egg, a larva or a chrysalis as well as when it has reached its perfect form. We should know the food of the insect in order that we may know where to look for it. We must know when and where the eggs are laid that we may destroy them before the larvae escape. We should know when the eggs are hatched so that we may know when to give up our search for the eggs and begin to look for the larvae. We should know the food plants of the larvae that we may know where to look for them. We should know the places sought for by the larva? when about to enter the chrysalis state that we may set traps for them. We must know the chrys- alids so that we may destroy them, and we must also know the mature insects that we may prevent the growth of future generations. We should be able to distinguish our insect foes from our insect friends. Many insects are carnivorous and prey upon others. Many insects are troubled with parasites which sooner or later destroy them. The presence of these carnivorous and parasitic species should be encouraged as far as possible. While there is much that is curious and Interesting to be found in the general study of insects which will amply repay the time spent by those who have it to spare, it is those insects with which we must contend for LECTURE OF PROF. TRACY. 113 the products of the soil which especially concern it is their existence and their ravages which make the science of Entomology especially valuable to practical people. We must know the ways and habits of noxious insects before we can hope to meet them on anything like equal terms, but knowing them thoroughly we can do much to keep them in check, and in many instances can insure ourselves fully against any loss from their depredations. ERRATAPROF. FICKLIN'S LECTURE. Page 115, line 8, from bottom "sidereal" instead ot "siderael " Page 117, line 14, from bottom "leaving" instead of "learning." Page 1 20, line 5, from bottom insert "the" before "search" and "an" before "order." Page 122, line 14, from bottom, put quotation mark after ''habits." Page 127, line i, "quod" instead of "quad," and on same page, line 8 from bottom, "cultivation" instead of "cultivation." Page 128, line 14, "answer" instead of ''anwser," and in last line on same page "form" instead of "from,"' and omit comma after : 'which." On same page, there ought to be no paragraph at "At one time a writer," &c. Page 141, line 5, from bottom, insert "train of satellites : Saturn and his" between "his" and "wonderful." MATHEMATICS. BY JOSEPH FICK/.IN, PH. D., PROFESSOR OF MATHE- MATICS AND ASTRONOMY IN MISSOURI UNIVERSITY. Ladies and Gentlemen; In making up the pro- gramme for the present course of University lectures, one evening was given to the department of Mathe- matics. Soon after the adoption of this programme the question arose in my mind, how can I use the hour allot- ted to my department so as to accomplish the most good? Shall I take some branch of Mathematics, as Algebra, Geometry or Calculus, and discuss it in all its phases? Shall I undertake to settle that vexed question relating to the Doctrine of Limits, the Infinitesimal Method and the Method of Rates? I was not long in deciding to do none of these things. Then I thought seriously of an experimental lecture; but when I came to arrange the details I found insurmountable difficulties. Could I bring into this room the Surveyor's Compass, the The- odolite, the Level, the Sextant, Transit Instrument, the Alt-Azimuth, the Telescope, and Siderasl clock, and so handle them as to make the lecture interesting to my audience? There are obvious difficulties in carrying out a plan of that kind. After considerable deliberation I have decided to consider: i. The value of the study of Mathematics as an exercise of mind. 2. The Relation of Mathematics to the other Sciences and its Practical utility. I have adopted this course with some hesitation, because, 116 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. during the first semester of this session there were about 320 students in my department (and still they come), and I fear that if I should do the subject full -justice, there would be such a rush upon me and my assistant, that we could not accommodate the classes, and that other de- partments of learning- might be neglected. I shall, therefore, on the present occasion, present my argu- ments in a mild form, holding a reserved force for any emergency that may arise. The human mind is so constituted that doubt and uncertainty are disagreeable to it; but it delights in prop- ositions about which there is no shadow of doubt. This longing for definite knowledge is more fully satisfied in the study of Mathematics than in any other department of learning; for in Mathematics the premises are defini- tions and axioms, and the conclusion follows with a force that is irresistible. On this point Dr. Charles Davies says: "The ideas which make up our knowledge of Mathematical science are all impressed on the mind by a fixed, definite and certain language, and the mind em- braces them as so many images or pictures, clear and distinct in their outlines, with names which at once sug- gest their characteristics and properties. The reasonings are all conducted by means of the most striking rela- tions between the known and the unknown. The things reasoned about and the methods of reasoning are so clearly apprehended that the mind never hesitates or doubts. It comprehends or it does not comprehend, and the line which separates the known from the unknown is always well defined. These characteristics give to this system of reasoning a superiority over every other, arising, not from any difference in the logic, but from a difference in the things to which the logic is applied." If Dr. Davies is correct, then it follows that there is I.ECTUKE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 117 no other science which is so well adapted to the im- provement of the reasoning powers of man. Does one wish to think and reason correctly? Does he feel that he needs mental discipline? that he needs the power of concentrating his thoughts? the power of close and pro- longed attention? Then, whatever his prospective call- ing in life may be, it is his duty to study the mathe- matics. About the year 1836, Sir William Hamilton's cele- brated article, "On the study of Mathematics as an ex- ercise of Mind" was published at Edinburgh. This ar- ticle was a reply to an article entitled : "Thoughts on the study of Mathematics as a part of a liberal Educa- tion," by Dr. William Whewell. Sir William Hamil- ton states the issue as follows: "Before entering into /details it is proper here, once for all, to premise : In the first place, that the question does not regard the value of Mathematical science, considered in itself, or in its objec- tive results, but the utility of Mathematical study, that is in its subjective effect, as an exercise of mind; and in the second, that the expediency is not disputed, of learning Mathematics as a co-ordinate, to find their level among other branches of academical instruction." With these premises before him Sir William undertakes to show by argument, by quotations trom Mathematicians them- selves, and from others, that the study of Mathematics is, if carried beyond a very moderate extent, injurious to the mind. This article made a deep and lasting impres- sion, and was hailed with delight by a host of men who lacked either the ability or the industry to go very far in this department of learning. Quite a number of such men, it is said, easily reached the conclusion (an example of the non sequitur] that an incapacity for the study of Mathematics was a sure mark of a genius! Dr. Whe- 118 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. well never answered Sir William. Indeed it is supposed by many at the present day that the article is unanswer- able. Now I do not pretend to be able to answer this article, nor have I time on the present occasion, if I had the ability. But I intend to show by some of the au- thorities quoted by him, by argument, and by Sir Wil- liam Hamilton himself, that the study of Mathematics is very beneficial to the mind. D'Alembert, one of the au- thorities quoted by Sir William, says: "The study of Mathematics and a talent for it do not then stand in the way of a talent for literature, and literary pursuits. We Can even say in one sense, that they are useful for any kind of writing whatever; a work of morals, of literature, of criticism, will be the better, all other things b'eing equal, if it is made by a mathema- tician, as M. Fontenelle has very well observed : it will exhibit that justness and that connection of ideas to which the study of mathematics accustoms us, and which it afterwards causes us to carry into our writings without our perceiving it and in spite of us." Sir W. H. quotes Pascal to show the "difference between the spirit of Mathematics and the spirit of Observation." I think a careful reading of the extract will show that Pascal was trying to state the difference between a mere mathema- tician and a mere observer; for in the closing part of it he says: "Mathematicians who are mere mathemati- cians, have thus their understanding correct, provided, always, that every thing be well explained to them by definition and principle, otherwise, they are false and in- supportable; for they are correct only upon notorious principles. And minds of observation, if only obser- vant, are incapable of the patience to descend to the first piinciples of matters of speculation and of imagination, of which they have no experience in the usage of the LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 119 world." Pascal is sound on this point, and I agree en- tirely with him. I have not much use for a mere math- ematician, a mere observer, or a mere any thing else. I am not in favor of a one-sided education. I advocate with all the emphasis possible, the general and harmo- nious development of all the faculties of the mind. But I do claim that the Mathematics ought to stand promi- nent in any scheme of liberal education. Pascal is sound on another point: He says: "this science alone (mathe- matics) knows the true rules of reasoning in all things, which almost all the world ignores, and which it is so advantageous to know, that we see by experience that among minds equal and alike in all other respects, he who is a mathematician excels and acquires a vigor entirely new." "I wish then," continues Pascal, "to show what is a demonstration by examples from the Mathematics, which is almost the only human science which produces infallible ones, because it alone observes the true method, whereas all others are by a natural necessity in some sort of confusion which mathemati- cians alone can fully understand." vSir William Hamil- ton calls Pascal "that miracle of universal genius." Hence, whatever Pascal says on the subject under dis- cossion ought to have great weight. I quote next from M. Chasles:" He says: "It is known how Descartes, Pascal and Leibnitz, as philoso- phers and writers, derived assistance from mathematics, and with what urgency they recommended the study of the science as iniinitely useful to develop and to fortify the true spirit of method." The next authority is Descartes, the founder of Modern Philosophy. Sir William Hamilton says of him: "Nay Descartes, the greatest mathematician of his age, and, in spite of his mathematics, also its greatest 120 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. philosopher, was convinced from his own consciousness, that these sciences, however valuable as an instrument of external science, are absolutely pernicious as a means of internal culture." Descartes must have been a won- derful man to be the greatest mathematician of his age and its greatest philosopher too, in spite of his Math- ematics. If he accomplished so much in the depart- ment of Philosophy, under such adverse influences, what would he have done, if he had paid no attention to Mathematics? For my part I cannot tell. I have given Sir William Hamilton's opinion of Descartes in order to show you that he (Descartes) is good authority. He says: <; In fact, it (mathematics) ought to contain the first rudiments of human reason, and to aid in drawing from everv subject the truths which it includes; and to speak freely, I am convinced that it is superior to every other human means of knowledge, because it is the origin and source of all truths." Again he says: "Now when all the world knows the name of the science, when they con- ceive the object of it, even without thinking mu A about it whence comes* it that they seek painfully the knowledge of the other sciences which depend upon it, and thac scarcely any person takes the trouble to study the science itself? I would be astonished assuredly if I did not know that every body regards it as very easy, and if I had not observed for some time that always the human mind, passing by what it believes to be easy, hastens on to new and more elevated objects. As for myself, who am con- scious of my feebleness, I have resolved to observe con- stantly, in search after knowledge, such order that, com- mencing always with the most simple and easy things, I never take a step forward in order to pass to others, un- til I believe that nothing more remains to be desired concerning the first. This is why I have cultivated LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 121 even to this clay, as much as I have been able, that uni- versal mathematical science, so that I believe I may hereafter devote myself to other sciences, without fear- ing that my efforts may be premature." I will ask Des- cartes to testify still further, lor according to Sir Wil- liam Hamilton he is a competent witness. This witness says: "More and more I continued to practice the method I had prescribed to myself; for, besides that I was careful to conduct all my thoughts generally by the rules, I reserved to myself from time to time some hours, which I employed particularly in exercising my- self in the difficulties of mathematics, and also in some others which I could render almost like the mathematics, by detaching from them all the principles of the other sciences which I found not sufficiently firm, as you will see I have done in several which are explained in this volume." I will now allow Descartes to leave the wit- ness stand, and while he is retiring and before the next witness is called, I will take occasion to modestly sug gest that possibly this greatest philosopher of his age be- came such on account of his mathematics, and that Sir William Hamilton simply used the wrong sign. He used the negative sign when he ought to have used the positive sign. Some of our students will understand this remark. The next witness is Dugald Stewart, of whom Sir William Hamilton speaks thus: t To this category we may also not improperly refer Dugald Stewart, for though not an author in mathematical science, he was in early life a distinguished professor of mathematics; while his philosophical writings prove, that to the last, he had never wholly neglected the professional studies of his youth. In other respects, it is needless to say that his authority is of the highest." Having such a testimonial 122 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. as this as to the competency of the witness, we are pre- pared to pay due respect to any utterances of his bear- ing upon the question under discussion. After giving the reasons for his conclusion Mr. Stewart says: "And hence the study of it (mathematics) is peculiarly calcula- ted to strengthen the powers of steady and concentrated thinking; a power which in all the pursuits of life, whether speculative or active is one of the most valuable endowments we possess." But it may be said by those who have read the works of Stewart that he testifies just as forcibly on the other side. For instance he says: "This bias (the bias toward credulity) now mentioned is strengthened by another circumstance the confidence which the mere mathematician naturally acquires in his powers of reasoning and judgment in consequence of which, though he may be prevented in his own pursuits from going astray by the absurdities to which his errors lead him, he is seldom apt to be revolted by absurd con- clusions in the other sciences. Even in physics, mathe- maticians have been led to acquiesce in conclusions which appear ludicrous to men of different habits. Now let us examine this extract carefully. Does Mr. Stewart say, substantially, that the tendency of mathematical studies is toward credulity? He does not.. His affirmations relate to the mere mathematician: that is, to a man who knows nothing but mathematics. It is eas}^ to see why a mere mathematician should be some- what credulous in other departments of learning. He is very careful in every step in his own reasoning, and he knows that his conclusions are correct. Now, such a man hears some laborer in some other department of learning make a statement as to some principle which he has discovered, and he believes the statement. Why does he believe it? Because he thinks that one is as LECTUKE OF PROF. FJOKLTN. 128 exact and as careful as himself in making his investiga- tions, and when the principle is announced the mere mathematician reasons with himself about this way: That man has studied that subject very carefully, as carefully, perhaps, as I would study a proposition in mathematics, and he says the principle is true. There- fore, as I know nothing about it, one way or the other, 1 am inclined to accept it. But would not a mere any- thing else be equally credulous, out of his own line of thought? Take a man in any department of learning, and let him travel always in his narrow groove. Would he not be credulous as to the statements made by men in other departments? This would be true especially if he is an honest, careful man himself. But as I have already said, I have no use for a mere mathematician; away with him ! Such a man resembles very closely an old bach- elor, who is, at best, only a hemisphere. But I will ask Mr. Stewart if such a curiosity as a mere mathematician is likely to be found in this part of the Solar System. On this point he says : "It must be remembered, at the same time, that the inconvenience of mathematical studies is confined to those who cultivate them exclusive- ly; and that when combined, as they now generally are r they enlarge infinitely our views of the wisdom and power displayed in the universe. The very intimate connection, indeed, which since the date of the New- tonian philosophy, has existed among the different branches of mathematical and of physical knowledge, renders such a character as that of the mere mathma- tician a very rare, and scarcely a possible occurrence; and cannot fail to have contributed powerfully to correct the peculiarities likely to characterize an understanding conversant exclusively with the relations of figures and of abstract quantities. Important advantages may also 124 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. be expected to result from those habits of metaphysical and moral speculation which the study both of mathe- matics and of physics has so strong a tendency to en- courage in every inquisitive and cultivated mind. In the present state of science, therefore, mathematical pursuits seem to lead the attention, by a natural process, to the employment of the most effectual remedies against in- conveniences which they appear, on a superficial view, to threaten; and which there is reason to believe they actually produced in many instances, where education was conducted on a plan less enlightened and comprehen- sive than what now generally prevails." I will next call upon Sir William Hamilton to state what he thinks of mathematics "as an instrument of mental culture." He says: "Are mathematics then of no value as an in- strument of mental culture? Nay, do they exercise only to distort the mind? To this we answer: That this study, if pursued in moderation and efficiently counter- acted, may be beneficial in the correction of a certain vice, and in the formation of its corresponding virtue. The vice is the habit of mental distraction; the virtue the habit of continuous attention." Let us now put by the side of this statement, the judgment of Mr. Stewart, which I have already quoted. He says : "And hence the study of it (mathematics) is peculiarly calculated to strengthen the power of steady and concatenated think- ing; a power which in all the pursuits of life, whether speculative or active is one of the most valuable endow- ments we possess." The "power of steady and concatenated thinking" is simply the power of "continuous attention," so that Sir William and Mr. Stewart are agreed as to the value of mathematics "as an instrument of mental culture." It must be observed, however, that Sir William ex- LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 125 presses his views a little more delicately, and with a little more reservation than Mr. Stewart. Sir William Ham- ilton makes an additional remark on the value of atten- tion as follows: "Nay, genius itself has been analyzed by the shrewdest observers into a higher capacity of at- tention." Now, if you please, put these three state- ments together and then ask what they prove . Do they not prove that the study of mathematics is calculated to strengthen the power of continuous attention, and that genius itself is simply a higher capacity of attention? Sir Isaac Newton himself admitted that it was his power to concentrate his thoughts on a single point for a long time, that distinguished him from other men. Sir William Hamilton names sexcn persons who had this "higher capacity of attention" in a remarkable degree, and five out ot the seven, viz: Archimedes, Carneades, Newton, Cardan and Vieta, were great mathematicians. You see what this fact proves, I am sure. Possibly this great power was developed in them in "spite of their mathematics," but on mathematical principles, the prob- ability is as 5 to 2 against such an hypothesis. Again in a work published in 1780, Condillac says: "There are four celebrated metaphysicians, Descartes, Mallebranche, Leibnitz and Locke." Three of these were great mathe- maticians,* and one of them, Descartes, the greatest mathematician and the greatest philosopher of his age. We have here the data for the solution of another prob- lem in probabilities. In the next place I shall prove that the study of mathematics is very valuable as a means of mental cul- ture, because it leads to a sound philosophy. My first argument, in proof of this proposition, is drawn from a statement made by D'Alembert, who was great both as a mathematician and as a philosopher. He says: 126 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. **But independently of the physical and palpable uses of mathematics we will consider here its advantages under another point of view; it is the utility of this study in preparing, insensibly, paths for the philosophical mind, and in disposing an entire nation to receive the light which that mind may diftuse over it. It is perhaps the only means by which certain countries in Europe can throw off by degrees the yoke of oppression and pro- found ignorance under which they groan. The small number of enlightened men who live in countries of the Inquisition, complain bitterly, though in secret, of the little progress which the sciences have hitherto made in those sad regions. The precautions which they have taken to prevent the light from penetrating into them, have so well succeeded that philosophy there is very nearly in the same condition in which it was in the time of Louis, the Young. If mathematicians should spring up among these people, they are a seed which will produce philosophers in due time, arid almost without its being perceived. The most delicate and the most scrupulous orthodoxy has nothing to contest with the Mathematics. Those who believe it is their interest to hold the minds of men in darkness, have sufficient fore- sight to prevent the progress of this science, and never fail of a pretext to prevent it from spreading. The study of Mathematics conducts to that of Mechanics; the latter leads, of itself and without obstacles, to the study of sound physics; and finally sound physics to true philosophy, which by the prompt and general light which its sheds, will soon be more powerful than all the efforts of superstition; for these efforts, however great they may be, are useless when the nation is once enlightened." After such testimony as this I would be justified in LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 127 closing the argument with a quad erat demonstrandum^ but to make the case still stronger I will pursue the train of thought suggested by this extract : I raise the ques- tion : In what countries and in what ages of the world has philosophy flourished ? Why was Ancient Greece celebrated on account of her distinguished philosophers? It was because her people did not neglect geometry. The testimony of Plato, one of the greatest philoso- phers of any country or any age is in point here. In his Repub. Book VII, he uses the following language: "Therefore, then said I, it must be especially enjoined that those in your beautiful city shall in no manner neg- lect geometry, for it is the most beautiful of all sciences, and we surely know that one who has studied geometry, differs entirely from one who has not studied it." This extract shows not only that geometry was an established science in the days of Plato, but it shows that he consid- ered it very unwise to neglect it. Plato founded a school of Philosophy, and in this school Geometry was made the basis of instruction. It is said that he placed this inscription over the door of his school: "Let no one who is ignorant of Geometry enter here." He, no doubt, believed that his instructions in Philosophy could not be understood and appreciated by one who was ig- norant of geometry. But I need not multiply evidence on this point. It is well known that the Ancient Greeks surpassed all other nations in the ctiltivalion of geometry, and that the resulting crop of philosophers was correspondingly large. Look at Rome; who were her great mathematicians? She never had any. What little mathematics the Romans knew was derived from the Greeks, and its study was encouraged chiefly on ac- count of its use in architecture and in the art of war. Who were her great philosophers? Cicero and Seneca 128 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. were perhaps the most eminent among them, and their philosophy, like their Mathematics, was borrowed from the Greeks. The Chinese, Turks and Japanese have never cultivated Mathematics to any great extent. Where are their philosophers? Look at Mexico and the States of South America, where little attention is paid to Mathematics. If you look for philosophers in these countries you will find them very scarce indeed. Why is this? I answer that in these countries the study of Mathematics, which lays the foundation for sound philos- ophy, has been neglected. If you fail to sow the seed, you need not expect a crop. I now repeat my question : u ln what countries, and in what ages of the world has philosophy flourished?" You are ready to anwser: "Wherever and whenever the greatest attention was given to the study of Mathematics." Again, the study of Mathematics is valuable as a means of mental culture, because it leads to a definite phraseology. Why is a definite phraseology desirable? In order that the reader may understand the writer; in order that the hearer may understand the speaker, and in order that either may understand himself. One great source of error hi reasoning is due to the fact that u&ords are used in a double or incomplete sense. At one time a writer may use a word in one sense, and at another time, without being aware of it, he may use it in a different sense, on the same subject, and thus mislead the reader, and it may be, himself also. Now the study of Mathematics fortifies one against errors of this kind, for words are here used in a definite and com- plete sense. I shall ask Mr. Stewart to testify on this point. He says: "Of the peculiar and super-eminent advantage possessed by Mathematicians in consequence of those fixed and definite relations which, from the ob- LECTURE OP PROF. FICKLIN. 129 jects of their science, and the correspondent precision in their language and reasonings, I can think of no illus- tration more striking than what is afforded by Dr. Hal- ley's Latin version from an Arabic manuscript, of the two books of Apollonius Pergaeus de Sectione Ratip- nis. The extraordinary circumstances under which this version was attempted and completed (which I presume are little known beyond the narrow circle of mathemat- ical readers) appears to me so highly curious, considered as a matter of literary history, that I shall copy a short detail of them from Halley's preface. After mention- ing the accidental discovery in the Bodleian library by Dr. Bernard, Savilian Professor of Astronomy, of the Arabic version of Apollonius, Peri logon apototnes^ Dr. Halley proceeds thus: "Delighted, therefore, with the discovery of such a treasure, Bernard applied him- self diligently to the task of a Latin translation. But before he had finished a tenth part of his undertaking, he abandoned it altogether, either from hjs experience of its growing difficulties, or from the pressure of other avocations. Afterwards, when on the death of Dr. Wallis, the Savilian professorship was bestowed on me I was seized with a strong desire of making a trial to complete what Bernard had begun ; an attempt of the boldness of which the reader may judge, when he is in- formed, that, in addition to my own entire ignorance of the Arabic language, I had to contend with the obscuri- ties occasioned by innumerable passages which were either defaced or altogether obliterated. With the as- sistance, however, of the sheets which Bernard had left, and which served me as a key for investigating the sense of the original, I began first with making a list of those words, the signification of which his version had clearly ascertained; and then proceeded, by comparing 180 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. these words wherever they occurred, with the train of reasoning in which they were involved, to decipher, by slow degrees, the import of the context; till at last I succeeded in mastering the whole work, and in bringing my translation (without the aid of any other person) to the form in which I now give it to the public. When a similar attempt shall be made with equal success, in deciphering a moral or a political treatise written in an unknown tongue, then, and not till then, may we think of comparing the phraseology of these two sciences with the simple and rigorous language of the Greek geometers; or with the more refined and abstract, but not less scrupulously logical system of signs, employed by modern mathematicians." Another reason why the study of mathematics is valuable as a mental gymnastic is that it accustoms the mind to seek truth for its own sake, and to accept as true whatever is proved. Hence the tendency of this study is to eradicate prejudice. In the Southern Review, Prof. Bledsoe, to whom I am indebted for some of my extracts, makes this state- ment: "The study of mathematics invigorates the will, and thereby increases the efficiency of all the other fac- ulties of the mind." This is admirably said, and a little consideration will show that it is true. When one suc- ceeds in demonstrating some difficult theorem, or in solving some intricate problem, he experiences, not only a high degree of satisfaction, but he realizes that he has acquired new power, that his ability to reason has been increased, and that he is better prepared to contend with difficulties and to overcome the obstacles that lie before him in the battle of life. When the great Newton had succeeded in demonstrating the universal law of gravita- tion, did he stop at that point? No! His mind seemed IiEGTU&E OF PROF. FICKLIN. 181 to receive additional power, and he proceeded to develop his brilliant discovery in his Principia, "which," Arago says, "even in the present clay, is regarded as the most eminent production ot the human intellect." The tendency of the study of Mathematics is to make one prompt and truthful. Many people are in the habit of making false statements, not through any desire to deceive, but on account of carelessness in the use of language, and many seem to think it quite unnecessary to meet their engagements. A man may promise to meet you precisely at 3 p. m., on a certain day, for the transaction of important business, but the average man would think he was doing remarkably well if he came to the station at half past five. The fact is, in most cases, when two men agree to meet at a certain time, neither of them expects the other to come to time, and this mu- tual distrust aggravates the difficulty. Now I claim that it is the tendency of mathematical studies to correct these evils. A man who, has long been accustomed to the exact, close and rigid- reasoning 'of mathematics, who has been compelled to give the closest possible at- tention to ever\ point in the argument, and to state that argument in the most exact language, will surely exhibit the effects ot his training in his daily walk and conver- sation. Such a man is almost certain to be truthful, prompt, and true t9 his engagements, for he has learned that guessing is out of order, and that "about right" or "somewhere in the neighborhood of the truth" will scarcely pass. It is true, that a young man may have the habit of carelessness so fastened upon him that noth- ing will save him; but, if he is not totally depraved in this respect, a severe drill in mathematics will do him some good. This remark is especially applicable to Astronomy, for if one wishes to see a certain star cross 132 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. the meridian, he must come to time; if he is a second behind time he finds the star is gone. The study of Mathematics tends to cultivate the imagination. In proof of this proposition I present an extract from a series of articles on the imagination by Dr, Thomas Hill, formerly President of Harvard. He says: "In this Geometrical imagination, the utmost pre- cision is necessary. From a muddy, ill-defined image, no consequences can be deduced. The geometric form is one of absolute perfection; from approximate forms nothing but approximate results can be obtained. * * * In cultivating Geometry, we prepare the pupil in the most effective way for any or all the practical arts of life ; we aid efficiently in fitting him for painting, engrav- ing, or sculpture, among the arts; and we give him the surest foundation on which to build scientific knowledge. Nay, even for those professions which deal with man, geometry is a fitting preparation, not chiefly because it trains the mind^to logical reasoning, but rather because it leads to accuracy of conception, to clearness of percep- tion, to precision of expression, to definiteness and fitness in the choice of imagery. All language, through which we deal with each other, even when discussing the most abstract themes, is figurative, borrowed from the outward world; and whatever leads to the most vivid imagination of the realities of th<* outward world, leads to the most vigorous expression of the facts of the in- ward world. Thus Geometrical training tends indirectly to cultivate the power by which the lawyer, the orator, the clergyman and the author convince, persuade, in- struct and delight their fellow-men." It is true that Dr. Hill here refers more especially to practical Geometry, where the pupil has before him the actual forms, and where he is required to make drawings of them; but LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 183 when geometry is taught as it oughi to be, the theoreti- cal and the practical are combined; then the advantages enumerated will be greatly increased. This "cloud of witnesses" and the arguments I have presented prove, I think, that the discipline acquired in the study of Mathematics is very valuable in this life; but when we reflect that every demonstrated proposition is an immutable, everlasting truth, and that it will be val- uable to us during the endless cycles of eternity, in our investigations of the laws that govern the wonderful works of God, this discipline and this knowledge be- come valuable beyond conception. Other things being equal, the one who knows most about the works of God, as -exhibited in the material universe, knows most about God himself. Who has a better conception of the pow- er and wisdom of the Creator? one who, ignorant of mathematics, looks upon the countless host of stars and planets as mere shining points scattered here and there without design, without order, and without law? or one skilled in this science, who looks upon the universe as a grand machine, held together and governed by immuta- ble laws; who is able to measure the diameters and dis- tances of the sun and planets, to estimate their masses, and to predict all their movements? This question is sometimes asked by students who do not expect to engage in any business directly involv- ing the higher branches of Mathematics: What good will it do me to spend my time on Mathematical studies! What is the use of it? I answer: You ought Iriot to devote your whole time to mathematics, for if you do, you will be a mere mathematician; but, if you expect to engage in any pursuit requiring accurate thinking, you ought to give a liberal share of your time to the study of the exact sciences, for reasons already given. On the 134 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOUKI. other hand, if you expect to stop thinking and reason- ing; if you are satisfied to go through life guessing at results, you can be excused. The fact is there is no pro- fession in which the discipline acquired in the study of Mathematics, will not be beneficial, except loafing, run- ning a hand organ, and in the lower walks of politics. . There is a tendency in the present day to think lightly of a branch of learning which is said to give mere mental discipline. There is a disposition to esti- mate an education according to the amount of wealth it will yield. You have doubtless heard of Mr. "Thomas Gradgrind of Stone Lodge." He and others like him were the founders of this utilitarian system. ''What I want," said Mr. Gradgrind," "is facts \ teach these boys and girls nothing but facts-, facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out every thing else." Now, I do not admit that the study of mathematics is valuable merely as a mental discipline; on the contrary I intend to show that it is the basis of all that is prac- tical in science; yet, for the sake of argument, let it be granted that it is valuable in this respect only. Is it necessary that the mind should be well trained in order to make the proper use of these facts, which we are to observe? Who is best qualified to arrange, to classify, and to embrace under one grand law, these facts? The mere observer? or the man who in addition to being a good observer, has been severely disciplined in the school of mathematics? Without such discipline the deductions of the human mind are unreliable; it is apt to draw general conclusions from particular cases, and to be led, in various ways, into error. Let me emphasize the thought then, that mental discipline is as important to the thinker as manual skill to the worker in the mechanic arts, and that the study LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 135 of mathematics cannot, without serious loss, be neglected by one who would become an accurate, skillful and ready reasoner. It is truly stated by Sir William Hamilton that "all matter is either necessary or contingent," and it is claimed by some philosophers that reasoning upon necessary matter, as in the pure mathematics, is not as beneficial to the mind as probable reasoning. I remark, in the first place, that the study of necessary reasoning is an indispensable preparation for the study of the probable, because the study of the necessary leads to a most careful scrutiny of premises, to clear and ac- curate thought, and hence to a definite phraseology ; 2nd, that the term mathematics includes both theoretical and applied mathematics, and in the latter, especially in En- gineering and Practical Astronomy there is the widest field for reasoning upon contingent matter; for examples of this kind of reasoning I refer to the account in Loomis's Recent Progress of Astronomy, of the discov- ery of the planet Neptune, and to Prof. Newcomb's "Re- duction and discussion of observations on the moon be- fore 1750." In the third place, it is undoubtedly true that the sphere of necessary matter is rapidly enlarging and encroaching upon that of contingent matter, and this will continue as long as exact observations continue to be made. Comte, in his Philosophy of Mathematics, affirms "that, in the purely logical point of view, this science (mathematics) is by itself necessarily and rigorously universal; for there is no question whatever which may not be finally conceived as consisting in deter- mining certain quantities from others by means of cer* tain relations, and consequently as admitting of reduc- tion, in final analysis, to a simple question of numbers." 136 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Again, the same writer says, that "every phenomenon is logically susceptible of being represented by an equation ; as much so, indeed, as is a curve or a motion, excepting the difficulty of discovering it, and then of re- solving it, which may be, and often times are, superior to the greatest powers of the human mind." Having shown that the study of mathematics is indis- pensable as a means of mental culture, I come next to consider its practical utility. Is mathematics a practical science? The word practical is very imperfectly under- stood by the mass of mankind. It is supposed by many to be the very opposite of theoretical. Docs any practical good arise from pursuing such a study ? Would it not be better to learn facts? are questions often propounded. Let us examine this word practical a little: As generally used, this word implies the acquisition of knowledge by some short and easy process; in fact, it implies the use of a principle without knowing it to be true. The so-called practical man says: "Just give me the rule, and I will Work by it; I merely wish to know how to apply the rule; I care nothing for the analysis that proves the rule to be true." If all men were practical in this sense, how long would it be before the rules would be forgotten, and not a man could be found to make one? Prof. Davies in his "Logic and Utility of Mathematics," com- menting on the true meaning of the word practical, says: "But give to practical its true signification, and it becomes a word of the choicest import. In its right sense, it is the best means of making the ideal the actual \ that is, the best means of carrying- into the business and practical affairs of life the conceptions and deductions of science. All that is truly great in the practical is but the actual of an antecedent ideal." In this sense of the word I shall endeavor to show that mathematical science is eminently practical. LECTURE OP PROF. FICKLIN. 187 The mason needs geomet / to estimate the quan- tity . of material used ; the architect needs it in order to adjust the various parts of the building; the mill-wright needs the mathematical principles of Natural Philoso- phy in order to estimate the amount of power required to overcome a given resistance. If the Missouri or the Mississippi is to be spanned by a bridge, a great mathematician must be employed to take charge of the work. The form, size, and strength of every beam and bolt must be determined in the be- ginning, otherwise there would be a great loss of money, time and material. Is the art of navigation practical? and does it depend upon mathematics? The vessel is constructed in accordance with mathematical principles, and it pur- sues its way through the trackless deep guided by the unerring results of mathematical formulae. When we consider the amount of life and property involved in navigation we see that mathematics is very useful* for, without its aid, ships would not venture far from the coast, and communication between continents would cease. The laws established by Kepler, Newton, La Place* and others were at one time though; to be merely theoretical, and without any practical value what- ever; and when Bowditch, the American mathema- tician, undertook the translation of La Place's cele- brated work, the Mechaniguc Celeste" some thought it a great waste of time, and that old question, "What is the use of it?" came up again. Now I wish it under- stood that I do not object to the question. It is a good and pointed question, and ought to be answered. The answer is, that Bowditch having mastered the works of these celebrated men, was enabled to construct tables i&8 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. for the navigator, by means of which the latitude and longitude of a ship could be determined with greater ac- curacy than had hitherto been possible. The work of the United States Coast Survey is closely connected w|th navigation. The object of this survey is to make an accurate map of our thousands of miles of sea coast, to place upon charts the positions of the channels, the shoals, the reefs^ and dangerous rocks. This is a work of great prac- tical utility, for it diminishes the risk of the life and property involved in navigation, and thus diminishes the cost of imports. But the work of the Coast Survey has been extended, so as to include a trigonometrical survey of the whole country. This will form the basis of a complete topographical map, which, in turn will serve as a basis for Agricultural and Geological surveys. Prof. J. E. Hilgard, of the Coast Survey, speaking of the difficulties under which we labor in most parts of our country for the want of such surveys says : "In the attempt to put together the local plans of townships and counties, irreconcilable differences, often amounting to several miles, are encountered. The accepted geograph- ical positions of capitals are found greatly in error when determined by accurate means. A rr\ cr boundary, such as the Ohio, when drawn from the data available for one state will differ widely from that constructed for an ad- joining one." The ordinary land surveys cannot be made the basis of a topographical map, for these surveys were made on the supposition that the surface of the earth is a plane, whereas it is really spherical, and any at- tempt to fit together such surveys, so as to make a map of a state, will result in a failure, because a plane sur- face cannot be made to fit the surface of a sphere. LECTURE OF PROF. FfCKIiTN. 139 If we had an accurate topographical map of our state it would he of great value to us. If a new rail- road is to be built, or if a town or city is to be sup- plied with water brought from a distant point by aqueducts, Engineers must be employed to survey two or three routes, and then the managers get to- gether and decide which route is the cheapest and best. But if we had a topographical map ot the state, an ex- pert could sit in his room with the map before him, and in a few minutes locate the line of the road or of the water supply. Other illustrations of the advantages of a perfect map could be given but it is unnecessary. As a good house-keeper knows her house from cellar to gar- ret, so a nation ought to know its own domain. I need not say, that unless a man is a good mathematician, he- would have no difficulty in being excused from taking part in these surveys. Again, our government has established Military and Naval schools in which mathematics is made the basis ot instruction. The course of Mathematics in these schools is more extended than in any of the other institutions in this country. Why is this so? and why have other enlightened governments done the same thing? It is because there is a profound conviction, on' the part of those in authority, that a severe drill in Mathematical studies is the best means for preparing men to command armies and navies. The work of the civil engineer is practical. He builds railroads, tunnels mountains, and spans our great rivers with bridges, thus making all parts of the country easily accessible, and making near neighbors of states lying at opposite extremities of our vast territory. He has liter- ally bound together the States of this union by iron bands, stronger than bayonets, bills of civil rights, or 1-4Q UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. constitutional amendments. It is impossible for us to re- alize, fully, the extent and advantages of the work of the engineer. We would indeed be in a sad plight without our bridges, our turnpikes and our railroads. It is needless to say that a thorough course of mathematics is the only road to success in engineering. In corrobora- tion of this, competent judges have decided that our army engineers, graduates of West Point, stand at the head of the profession. But at this point some one is ready to ask, are not Chemistry, Physics, Mechanics, Mineralogy, Natural History and Astronomy of practical utility ? They are certainly, but you will soon see that Mathematics has complete possession of some of these, and that it has acquired large territory in the others. The student of Chemistry soon finds that each ele- ment has a combining number, that atoms unite with each other in certain fixed and definite ratios. He does not proceed very far until he meets with equations to be solved, and before he can master the subject he will find use for the higher mathematics. In Physics also mathematics is prominent. It has already almost complete possession of sound, light, and heat, and recently I saw the statement that Prof. Peirce of Cambridge was lecturing on the mathematical theory of electricity. Mechanics treats of the parallelogram of forces, the theory of falling bodies, the parabolic path of projectiles, the motion of bodies down inclined planes and in curves; in fact, the student soon finds that Mechanics is simply applied mathematics, and that he will need both Ana- lytical Geometry and the Calculus to understand all the principles. In Mineralogy there is need of mathematics. There LECTURE OF PROF. PICK LIN. 141 are hexagonal prisms, tetraedrons, hexaedrons, octae- drons, rhombic dodecaedrons and other geometrical forms. Thus, in crystalization nature works by the rules of geometry. The naturalist finds that the bones of animals are constituted in accordance with the mathematical theory of the strength and stress of materials; that the honey bee forms its cell in such a manner as to combine a max- imum of space with a minimum of material. Arago in his eulogy on LaPlace says: "Astronomy is the science of which the human mind may most justly boast. It owes this indisputable pre-eminence to the ele- vated nature of its object, to the grandeur of its means of investigation, to the certainty, the utility, and the unparal- leled magnificence of its results." Some ambitious youth who does not like Mathematics, now comes forward and says : "Ah ! that is just what I have always thought, I never did like arithmetic and algebra, and I wish to study the sublime science of Astronomy. He applies for admis- sion to the class in that subject, but finds some slight difficulty in being admitted as "a member in good stand- ing and full fellowship." Nevertheless he is admitted as a visitor. Very well. He goes into the Observatory, and, after looking at the instruments, he is more firmly convinced than ever that he will like Astronomy. He gazes with admiration upon mighty worlds moving in their appointed orbits in the depths of space; he looks with astonishment and delight upon some brilliant comet; he is enraptured with the telescopic views of Jupiter and his wonderful system of rings; he becomes still more interested when he turns the telescope upon our moon, and begins to examine its mountains and val- leys; he imagines that in these remote regions of space, he will not encounter that measuring, syllogistic science 142 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. commonly called Mathematics. He observes one thing after a while, however, that renders him a little uneasy. If an eclipse of the Sun or Moon, or of one of Jupiter's satellites, a transit of Venus or Mercury, or the passage of a star across the meridian is predicted, he finds that the event verifies the prediction; it comes to time; it meets its appointment with a precision that is absolutely startling. This looks a little mathematical. But he proceeds. He has a desire to know how the diameters, distances, masses, orbits and times of revolutions of the planets are calculated; he would find the height of lunar mountains, the depth of lunar valleys, and the time of the comet's return. But here serious trouble begins; he finds that the planets are oblate spheroids; that they revolve upon axes variously inclined to the planes of their orbits; that they describe ellipses having the Sun in one of the foci. lie hears something said about ec- centricity, true and mean anomaly, precession of the equinoxes, nutation, aberration of light, centripetal and centrifugal forces; but he has no clear and satisfactory conception of these terms, because they involve geome- try and the higher mathematics. The young man has made. a great mistake. He supposed that "star gazing" was astronomy, and after gazing until he becomes satis- fied, he ceases to attend the recitations even as a visitor. The value of the study ot mathematics as a prepa- ration for Astronomy is admirably set forth by Sir John Hesschel in the introduction to his Outlines of Astrono- my. He says: "Admission to its sanctuary, and to the privileges and feelings of a votary, is only to be gained by one means, sound and sufficient knowledge of mathe- matics, the great instrument of all exact inquiry, with- out which no man can ever make such advances in this or any other of the higher departments of science as can LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 148 entitle him to form an independent opinion on any sub- ject of discussion within, their range." Mathematics is useful in history for the purpose of fixing dates. The astronomer can extend his calcula- tions backward for thousands of years, and fix the time of every eclipse of the Sun or Moon. The historian finds among the imperfect records of antiquity the state- ment, that a great battle was fought at a certain place; but there is an uncertainty of three or four years, it may be, as to the time. A circumstance, however, enables the astronomer to find the time. It was stated that there was -a total eclipse of the Sun during the battle. He examines the table of eclipses, and is at once enabled to fix the precise date of the battle, for a total eclipse of the Sun is a very rare occurrence in any one place. Mathematics is a valuable adjunct in the Evidences of Christianity. Mcllvaine bases a strong argument in favor of the truth of Christianity upon the mathemat- ical theory of probabilities. There is no doubt but that Political Economy will, in due time, be considered as a branch of mathematics, and, even at this time, no one should attempt to write on that subject, unless he has had a good deal of experi- ence in discussing the relations of quantities. Again, mathematics has done the world great ser- vice in ridding it of scientific romances. Many a beau- tiful theory has become a vanishing quantity as soon as mathematics looks it in the face. I might proceed to show that mathematics is useful in Geology, Botanv, Music, Painting and Sculpture; but let this suffice. An individual may neglect mathematics, but a na- tion cannot do so and remain properous; this is sufficient- ly proved by what has already been said; and let me say there, are special reasons for encouraging the study 144 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. of mathematics in this country. Ours is a comparative- ly new country ; our vast resources are only very partial- ly developed; new roads are to be built; new mines opened; our rivers improved; and topographical surveys to be made. These statements are especially applicable to our own great State. We are doing all we can in this insti- tution, to prepare young men to do this work, and already some of the graduates of the department of Engineering hold important and responsible positions in our river surveys, and we intend to put more of them into such places. The young men of the West are just as good material, out of which to make skillful astrono- mers and engineers, as those of the East, and if there is a difference, it is in our tavor ; and I feel that if Mis- souri does not stand in the front rank, it is not for the want of ability. While ~on the subject of the practical, I will say that it is my firm conviction that all scientific truth is practical. We may not be able to see the practical bearings of a principle as soon as it is discovered ; but you may rest assured that some time or other it will be applied to the practical affairs of life. When the Greek geometers discovered the properties of the ellipse, they could not see that these properties were of any practical use. But Kepler proved that the planets revolve in ellipses having the Sun in one of the foci. But let us now return to that young man who was excused from astronomy because he had neglected math- ematics. He would like to know where he shall go in the study of nature to avoid mathematics. For my part, I cannot tell him, but, in Mansfield's lecture on the Util- ity of Mathematics, this very question is answered, and I here give that answer in full: "Yes, he who would LECTUKE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 145 shun Mathematics must fly the bounds of flaming space, and in the realms of chaos, that dark, Illimitable ocean," where Milton's Satan wandered from the wrath of heaven, he may possibly find some spot visited by no figure of geometry, and no -harmony of proportion. But nature, this beautiful creation of God, has no resting place for him. All its construction is mathematical '; all its uses are reasonable'^ all its ends harmonious. It has no elements mixed without regulated law; no broken chord to make a false note in the music of the spheres." ERRATA. Page 127, line i QUOD instead of QUAD. Page 127, line 8, from bottom "cultivation" instead of "cwl- tivalion." Page 128, line 14 "answer" instead of "anwser;" and in last line on same page "form" instead of "from," On same page, there ought to be no paragraph at "At one time a writer," &c. THE THREE PRONUNCIATIONS OF LATIN. BY M. M. FISHER, PROFESSOR OF LATIN IN THE UNIVERSITY OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI. The subject of my lecture was "Rome and Car- thage on the Metaurus." My time out of the class- room was employed in preparing matter for the press r and, as a consequence, the lecture was delivered extem- poraneously. When the manuscripts were called for to take their places in the present volume, leisure hours were still occupied in the same way. Latin pronunciation has claimed unusual attention for years past and the discussion is likely to continue for years to come. The space due my lecture will he oc- cupied with extracts from a work just from the press entitled, "The Three Pronunciations of Latin." The hope is entertained that these short extracts will not be unacceptable to those who are interested in a subject that receives marked attention from scholars both in, Europe and America. There are three methods of pronouncing Latin in use in the United States, all of which are regarded as. scholarly, viz., the CONTINENTAL, the ROMAN, and the ENGLISH. 148 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. THE CONTINENTAL SYSTEM. It is very common among the advocates of the so- called Roman method of pronouncing Latin, to speak of the so-called Continental system as a "natural ally" of the Phonetic mode; to affirm that "the united forces of the Roman and Continental methods are encroaching on the narrowing domains of the English system." Such statements may create a sympathy between the two sys- tems, but they are not founded on fact, and their ten- dency is to mislead those who have not examined the subject with some care. Some ardent reformers would make the impression that if their system should prevail in England and America, then the "Vexed question" would be settled, and an "international pronunciation" would at once become a reality. The truth in the case will at once make manifest the fallacy. Harkness says: "Strictly speaking, there is no Continental method." Bullions and Morris speak of it as the "so-called Continental pronunciation." These statements are in accordance with the facts. For cen- turies the law of nations has been for each to pronounce Latin after the analogy of its own tongue. As there is such variety on the Continent, some of the ablest scholars in the United States, who use the so-called Con- tinental mode, to make the matter explicit, state that they use the sounds of the vowels and diphthongs as heard in the Italian. One of the chief arguments for the adoption of what scholars strangely enough call the Continental sys- tem, has been that it would enable learned men, by means of a common pronunciation, to make themselves intelligible- all over Europe. This idea of gramma- rians and others is founded on an utter misapprehen- sion of the facts. There is not now, and there has never LECTURE OF PROF. FISHER. 149 been, any international identity in the pronunciation of the Latin, and this is especially true of Continental Europe. There is a general agreement in the vowel sounds, but in the consonants, which make articulate speech what it is, there is very great diversity of sound. Each nation has its own phase, of what American scholars term the Continental mode. There is the French phase, the Spanish phase, the Italian phase, the Hungarian phase, the Swedish phase, and the German phase; and, strange as it may seem, there are sharply defined varieties of the Continental method in use in the different German States. What has just been said is a sample of an actual state of facts as existing on the Continent at this hour. Esch/nburg, on page 550 of his "Classical Literature," says: "It is worthy of remark that the Frenchman, Ger- man, and Italian, in pronouncing Latin, each yields to the analogies of his own tongue. Each of them may condemn the others, while each commits the same error, or, rather, follows in truth the same general rule. "Erasmus says he was present at a levee of one of the German princes where most of the European am- bassadors were present; and it was agreed that the con- versation should be carried on in Latin. It was so; but you would have thought, adds he, 'that all Babel had come together.' " All those speaking were using the Continental method. How the native tongues on the Continent pro- nounce Latin, after their own analogies, may be seen from a glance at the Romance languages of Southern Europe, the French, Italian, Portuguese, and Spanish, to which the Latin stands in the relation of a common progenitor. The letters <:, ^-, /, and v will be sufficient: 160 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. FRENCH. ITALIAN. c=s, before e, i, and y. c===ch in cherry, before e, i, g=s in pleasure, before e, i, and y. and y. k r== U1 gem. j=z in azure. j=ee in fee (a vowel), v v, as in English. v=v in English. PORTUGUESE. SPANISH. c=s, as in French. c=th in pith, before e and i. g=s, as in French. g === ch guttural. j=z, as in French. j ch guttural, before all v=v, as in English. vowels. v=v, as in English. Notice the German also: c ts before e and i. 2T sr in sro. O o o V=f. j=y. As an example of pronunciation in the languages named, take Cicero: French, Clccro=Seesa}>ro. Italian, Q,\cero=Cheeckay- Portuguese, Cicero : = See- ro. sayro. Spanish, Cicero = Thee- German,Cicero= Tseetsav- thayro. ro. J . F. Richardson, one of the ablest of Roman Lat- inists, uses the following language: "In the second place, it is an entire mistake to speak of the 'Continental method' of pronouncing Latin. There is, in fact, no common Continental syste/n, but there are several Continental systems of Latin pronun- ciation, e. g., German, Italian, French, Spanish. These four agree, to be sure, substantially in regard to the vowels; but in other important points they differ decid- edly both from the English and from each other, most of the diphthongs and some of the most important con- sonants being sounded differently in all five. The idea, LECTURE OP PROF. FISHER. 151 therefore, that he who combines the German vowel sounds with the English dipththongal and consonant sounds has the Continental system, or any Continental system of Latin pronunciation, is simply absurd. "Of the six different systems of Latin pronuncia- tion, then, prevailing in Western Europe and our own country, five are strictly national. Their differences find at once an original and an explanation in the fact that the scholars of each nation have followed, in their pronunciations of Latin, the analogies of their own ver- nacular. In this way, while making sure of mutual dis- agreement, all have departed more or less from the true Roman method, and the whole subject has been involved in uncertainty and confusion. Meanwhile the pseudo- Continental system, destitute alike of historical dignity and scientific accuracy, and lacking even the poor sup- port of national prejudice and pride, is powerless to mediate and compose these differences, Although it undoubtedly avoids some of the grossest absurdities pe- culiar to the English system, it lacks the elements which command respect, and can never establish a claim to universal adoption and use." Before passing to the next point, let attention be carefully fixed on several facts indisputably settled: I. That no phase of the Continental system of Europe pro- fesses to be the true ancient pronunciation; 2. That no two of them agree in the sounds of the consonants; 3. That the so called Roman pronunciation does not agree with a single one of them in either vowels or consonants, as, for instance, Cicero, pronounced Kee-ke-ro, cer- tainly differs from the French See-say-ro, the Italian Chee-chay-ro, the Spanish Thee-thay-ro and the Ger- man Tseet-say-ro\ 4. That the so-called Roman differs more widely from the Italian than from the other Ro- 162 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. mance tongues, a fact not a little significant when \ve remember that the Italian is spoken on the very soil ren- dered almost sacred to the scholar by the hallowed memories of the Latin language; 5. That when Amer- icans use the Continental they do not sound the conso- nants like any nation or tribe on the continent of Europe* They approximate the vowel sounds of the Continent,, but almost invariably pronounce the consonants as in English. Hence the so-called Continental of America is a combination of foreign vowel sounds with conso- nants uttered almost universally as in English words. Whatever the theories of teachers may be, this is a stub- born practical fact. We have in this country, therefore, the American phase of the Continental method, the conglomerate variety, differing from every other variety of that system on the globe. ROMAN METHOD. Twenty years ago there were only two methods used in the United States, the English and the Conti- nental, and popular favor was rather with the former* In what is called the Latin, or Reformed mode, Prof. Haldeman, of the University of Pennsylvania, enjoys, and deservedly, the reputation of being the first explorer. His work was published as early as 1851. That mode now, however, is most intimately associated with the name of Corssen, in Germany, and Roby, in England, whose exhaustive works would be an honor to any na- tion. Both works have been published in the last twenty years. Prof. Lane, of Boston, introduced the Roman pronunciation in New England, and its introduction in the South is largely due to Prof. Blair, of Hampden Sidney, Virginia, and Prof. Gildersleeve, of Johns Hop- kins University, Baltimore. Whatever conquests that system has made anywhere in the world, have been achieved within the brief space of ten years past. LECTURE OF PROF. FISHER. 158 But what does this new mode claim? Why, it claims to be the genuine Latin method, the true ancient pronunciation restored ; to pronounce words as they fell from the lips of Cicero, Virgil and Horace. If this claim be well founded, then it is no new doctrine, but a very old one. Any dissent in this treatise from the opin- ions of others, however emphatic the dissent may be, is made with the profoundest regard for the distinguished scholars who have written in favor of the Roman meth- od. But a system with such pretensions must abide, as it professes to do, the results of the crucible; Roby himself in his Preface says: "An inquiry into classical Latin is [an inquiry] into a pronunciation which has not been uttered by an accredited representative for the last sev- enteen hundred years." (Page 30, edition of 1871.) Yet they have gone back and brought down to our day a pronunciation which purports not to differ from that of Cicero "more than the pronunciation of educated men in one part of England would differ from that heard in other parts." (Roby.) On what are these claims based? 1. The Latin grammarians: beginning with Varro, 64 B. C., and coming down to Priscianus Caesariensis, who taught at Constantinople, 570 A. D. In reference to these grammarians, Prof. Blair, in his introduction, says: "To whose instructions we must now turn, in order to gather by inference, and not without great care and pains, the information which might have been easily and more certainly had by spending an hour with the Roman boys in their elementary school." 2. The information gleaned from grammarians is compared with three sources of probable proof." (a) The traditions of scholars and the modern Ro- manic languages. UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. (b) The Greek mode of rendering Latin sounds into their tongue. The Greeks attempted to imitate the Latin sounds as perfectly as their letters would allow. (c) The third probable proof is "the face of the language itself, as seen in its records which have been preserved to us." For these three positions reference may be made to Prof. Blair's work, one of the best yet published on this subject in America. A source of testimony much relied on by Roman Latinists is the modern Romance languages of Southern Europe, a point which shall receive proper attention as we proceed. But what kind of evidence is it upon which these lofty claims are based? The answer is, and must in the nature of the case be, "Probable evidence." It is not at all our design in this discussion to under- value probable or moral evidence. Far from it. The countless facts of history, of the sciences, and of Christianity itself rest on this kind of proof. The human mind is so constituted as to rest with as much confidence in probable evidence of the degree of moral certainty as in demonstrative or mathematical evi- dence. We do not object to the so-called Roman method because its basis is moral evidence, as from the nature of the case it can admit of no other kind, but be- cause it is destitute of that measure of evidence of this kind which would entitle it to our acceptance; and our critics who drew a contrary meaning from our words fell into very strange misapprehensionsions of statements designed to be plain to all, viz.: Probable evidence presents various degrees of strength. In the lowest form, it warrants only presumption ; in the highest de- gree, it warrants moral certainty. In the face of the ^conflicting JuECTUBK OF PROP. FISHER. 155 opinions and difficulties to be shown hereafter, no scholar can make the least pretension that the resurrected system rests on any such basis as moral certainty Far from it. Many points are destitute of even presumptive evidence in their support. What we object to is the hasty position taken by some enthusiastic scholars that there has' already been made out even the lowest grade of probable evidence, even a mere presumption, in favor of the so-called Roman method over the Continental or English, which at once decides the question, and all, nolens volens, must logically fall into the ranks of the Roman Latinists and flout all who dare to differ and refuse to enter their air- castles, built or un vindicated, as wanting in logic and in regard for moral evidence. Such pretensions are hasty and unwarranted. We affirm boldly and explicitly, and hold ourselves responsible to prove, that while some parts of the resurrected system, but not peculiar to it, present a plausible claim to authenticity, oth- er and essential parts are groundless, perplexing, and violently improbable. Instead of the new system being established in the judgment of the classic world, as is urged in certain quarters, its ablest advocates in Europe and America concede that some of its features are wholly unsettled. And yet the men who hold this po- sition are the very men who have the right to recogni- tion as the leading spirits in this reform movement. Some of those who are the most positive in their lan- guage are least known as classical scholars. We now find ourselves face to face with two or three questions which are entirely distinct: i. Do we know the true ancient pronunciation of Latin? 2. Shall we adopt the so-called Roman system? 3. A third question also is pertinent, If the new mcde rested on a universally acknowledged foundation of moral certainty, 156 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. should it be adopted by English-speaking people? Most unhesitatingly and unequivocally we answer, "No," to all three of these interrogations. These in- quiries put the case so plainly before the reader that it is hoped no one will misunderstand it. In regard to the first inquiry, Do we know the true pronunci- ation? the distinguished Latinist of Yale College, Prof. Thacher, in his Pretace to Madvig's Grammar, af- firms: "How the Romans themselves pronounced their language is not known, nor can it ever be known. Scholars may not agree in opinion in respect to the ex- tent of this ignorance; but if it were in itself very lim ited, pertaining, for instance, only to the sound of a single letter, it might with reason be made an objection to any attempt to imitate the original pronunciation of the lan- guage; for the number of distinct sounds is so small in such a language as the Latin or our own, that every one of them runs like a thread through every page, and con- stitutes an important element of it. The difficulties which attend this subject are inherent in it, are such that there is no nation in Europe, the classical scholars of which agree in claiming that they can reproduce the pro- nunciation of the Roman forum, or in attempting to do so." Haldeman, on page 18 of his "Affixes to English Words," says, "The Latin alphabet is composed of the following twenty letters," naming them, and holding that only nine, B, D, F, H, N, P, Q, T, X, had the same power as in English. But suppose there is one sound, like the dipthong ae or a-, running "like a thread through every page," and in a multitude of words which is not known and about which there is a variety of opinions, will any man affirm that we know the pro- nunciation of a language when this multitude of words contains an unknown or at least a perplexing and unset- LEOTUBB OF PROF. FISHER, 157 tied sound, and yet eleven unknown sounds are conceded? WANT OF HARMONY AMONG THE ADVOCATES OF THE REFORMED MODE. That the reformers do not agree among themselves on some very important points is universally conceded, and is a matter claiming at the hands of every inquirer the most serious thought. Prof. Twining ( Western, July- August, p. 417) uses this language: "That the advocates of the reformed pronunciation differ among themselves is of graver import, since if these differences are on vital points as Prof. Fisher claims, they not only discredit the evidence, but render impossible, that uni- formity of practice which it is one of the chief objects of the reform to secure." The consequence of a differ- ence in vital points is well put by Prot. Twining. Let us examine some of these differences. i. There is no harmony in their representation of the vowel sounds in general. Just here it should be carefully borne in mind that the reformers insist that their system is phonetic. Then "each elementary sound had its own unvarying sign, and each sign its own unva- rying sound." This is, according to Prof. March, the essential idea of a phonetic alphabet; this, then, is con- ceded to be our criterion of judgment. Haldeman, quoting with approval G. Walker, says: "Every letter retained an invariable sound." Quoting from Scheller,. he says: "The sound of the long and short vowels, though elementarily the same, were always distinguished in length." (Haldeman's Latin Pronunciation, pp. 17, 19.) Allen and Greenough say, "By the Roman (or phonetic) method, every letter has always the same sound." (Grammar, p. 7.) These are explicit state- ments of what is held by the new "Romans" throughout the world. The vowels did differ in quantity, they did not differ in quality. UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Haldeman holds that: Long a=a in arm. Short a=a in art. " e=ey in they. e==ei in eight. " i=i in marine. " i=i in deceit. " 0=0 in own. " 0=0 in obey. " u==oo in fool. " u u in full. Here in this ideal scheme, the phonetic theory is substantially carried out. Compare with this Tafel's scheme, which is identi- cal, at least professedly so, with that of Corssen. Long a=a in father. Short a=same sound shorter. " e=a in fate. " e==e in then. " i==i in machine. " i=i in sit. " 0=0 in hole. " 0=0 in nor. " u=u in rude. " u=u in put. A glance at this ideal scheme will show that it is not consistent with the theory in the short sounds of e, i, o and u. E in then, / in sit, o in nor, and u in put. have not the same sound as a in fate, i in machine, o in hole, and u in rude. These words, as the least practised ear can detect, differ not only in quantity, but radically in quality. A glance too reveals the obvious truth that Haldeman and J. F. Richardson agrees Svith him does not agree with Tafel and Corssen, in representing the short sounds of 0, /, and e. Who does not see that ei in eight, i in deceit and o in obey, are not the same as e in then, i in sit, and o in nor? If scholars on the side of the new pronunciation believe in the phonetic method and understand it alike, then failure to represent it harmoniously, even in their ideal schemes, is simply unpardonable. Roby tells us that o long=0 in home, and o short=0 in dot. Blair, that o loiig=, when it began a word or syllable; but after j, g^ and q, and followed by a vowel, it had the sound of iv, e. g.: Servusser-vus. V=English v. But suiivis=s'iva-vis. Roby gives v invariably the sound of w. He uses these words by way of illustration : Jovis= ITo-ivees. ee. (See Blair's Pronunciation and Roby's Grammar.) r'==English v. Tafel. Bartholomew. z?==English v. J. F. Richardson. v=w. W. G. Richardson. Corssen seems inclined to the belief that v some- times sounds like our v. (Roby, p. 42.) As might be expected, usage in the American schools lays no claim to uniformity. But pause a moment. Some of the Continental na- tions cannot make the sound of iv at all, hence if Eng- lish and American scholars insist on sounding V=TV, then the idea that the Reformed Pronunciation is to be- come universal is worse than Utopian; ay, it is a physi- LECTURE OF PROF. FISHER. 165 cal impossibility over a large part of Continental Europe. If the enthusiastic reformers are right and have found and resurrected the real Ancient Pronunciation, is it not a pity that whole nations, some of them the most learned on earth, will never be able to use it? In French, Spanish, Portuguese and Italian, i'=z> in English. These languages look back to a common ancestor, the stately and imperial Latin, but they can never fully utilize the results of this "new philology that has been let loose" in the last twenty-five years. This perilous condition of affairs is relieved by the proposition of A. J. Ellis (Academy, No. 19), who ad- vises that English speakers of Latin should not pro- nounce v like w, because it is needless to adopt a sound which Continental nations cannot produce. Whatever their theories may be, though demonstrated, whatever their arguments may be, even if unanswerable, those who hold that v==w, must abandon their ground, sacri- fice the results of laborious research, and adapt them- selves to nature's order of things on the Continent. Thus only can uniformity be attained with the Romanic nations. Is it not a little strange that these nations have lost the power of uttering one of the sounds used by a common progenitor? Let it be remembered here, that those who urge that v=w, tell us that they are produc- ing the sounds as they fell from the lips of Cicero, Vir- gil, and Horace. To return to our proposition. At present, there is no. harmony. If harmony is ever to be realized in the future, one party in this controversy over v must aban- don their ground, whether right or wrong. As the case now stands, some phases of the discussion are not far removed from the ludicrous. Either English and Amer- ican scholars must abandon v==w, or the Continental nations must learn to .pronounce w. 166 UNIVBRSITY OF MISSOURI. There are other differences, not so striking it may be, but such as demand consideration on the part of those who have adopted the "Roman reform 1 * and especially on the part of those whose faith, under the eloquent and daring intrepidity of the reformers, has been at all shaken as to the comparative fixedness and superiority of the English system. The following-, from the principal of Eton College, Windsor, England, dated Feb. 8, 1879, contains infor- mation and arguments of the highest value to all Eng- lish-speaking people: ETON COLLEGE, WINDSOR, ENGLAND, Feb. 8, 1879. DEAR SIR: We have made no change in the pronunciation of Latin in Eton. A movement was set on foot a few years ago for bringing in a new system of pronunciation; and the Latin professors at Oxford and Cambridge drew up a syllabus, based on the best knowledge of the day. This attempt to revert to the old pronunciation of their language in its best days has a great inter- est doubtless for scholars, but its use in the practical teachings of the language to boys is by no means evident; and though for a time it found some favor, I think it is on the decline in England. It seems open to these objections: i st. That our knowledge is far too meagre to enable us really to recover the old pronunciation of Latin as it existed (sav) in the time of Cicero. 2nd. That there seems to be but little hope of inducing other nations to adopt any such scheme as that proposed by the two professors. 3rd. That the introduction of a new pronunciation would add to the difficulties of the early stages in teaching Latin. 4th. That there would be something painfully incongruous in attempting the pronunciation of Latin without altering that of Greek; and there seems to be almost insuperable difficulties in adopting the modern Greek pronunciation in English schools. 5th. That though in following the general practice of foreign nations, which is to pronounce these dead languages according to the laws of their own living tongue, we in England are doubtless further from the true pronunciation than the Italians, or even the LECTURE OF PROF. FICKLIN. 167 Germans (not to mention others), no practical inconyenience seems to result from this, except the difficulty of speaking intelli- gibly to a foreigner in Latin, a difficulty which is not often felt, and which would not be obviated or greatly diminished by adopt- ing the new pronunciation. I cannot help also feeling that there is a sort of pedantry in having one pronunciation of such names as Cicero or Virgil for a school lesson, and another for the inter- course of ordinary life; and I doubt whether the new system would ever take root in general society. I believe that on the whole the more thoughtful and liberal-minded men at Oxford, to speak of my own university which I know best, are not favorable to the abandonment of our present, system. Believe me, dear sir, very trxily ever, \ J. I. HORNBY. PROFESSOR M. M. FISHER, University of Missouri, Columbia, United States. THE ENGLISH SYSTEM. Of the twelve extended reasons for the use of the English mode, space will allow extracts from two only. Ten years ago I entered upon an investigation of the so-called Roman method with a view to substituting it for the English, if the new system should be found to rest on a basis of truth. This examination has continued until the present, using all the helps that have come from the pens of able scholars both in Europe and America; the conclusion reached in these pages, there- fore, is the result of careful reading and study, and the preference given to the settled English pronunciation is the one that has been forced upon me by the stubborn facts on both sides of the question. Let it be clearly understood that no one claims that the English method is the true ancient pronunciation of the Latin language, though it has been used for three hundred years in England. Let it be admitted that the so-called Roman system, as advocated by Corssen and Roby, sandy as its batis is, at least in vital parts is theo- 168 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. retically correct. Let its claims, based largely on proba- bilities, all be conceded; still, admitting the correctness of a theory and reducing that theory to practice are rad- ically and vitally different. My position is, therefore, most unhesitatingly taken that for English-speaking peo- ple the English pronunciation is the best. Some of the reasons will be briefly stated : i. The last edition of Webster's Dictionary claims 120,000 words. Of these, according to the highest authority, only about 23,000 are of Anglo-Saxon origin. De Vere (page 43) says that the English is the only European idiom that so combines the classic and Gothic elements as to make the Gothic the basis and the Latin the superstructure. According to Prof. Whitney, in his "Life and Growth of Language," nearly five sevenths of the words contained in our large dictionaries are of classical deri- vation and only about two sevenths native Germanic. Far the greater part are from the Latin. The same author says that our scientific and philosophical vocabu- lary comes mainly from the Latin. The] number of words derived from the Greek is considerable, especially in scientific use, but far less than trom the Latin. Take some of the richest Latin pre- fixes found in our language . With co or con as a pre- fix, we have 5,600 words, in or im, 2,900; re, 2,200; di or dis, i, 800; ad, 1,600; de, 1,600; sub, 700; pre, 7; pro, 600; per, 350. From the single root fac we have about 604 derivatives, according to Prof. Haldeman. (See his "Affixes," pp. 14-16.) The author last quoted is of the opinion that there are not three hundred roots in any language. ("Affixes," p. 13.) In view of the fact that such a vast majority of our words are from the Latin, either mediately or im- LECTURE OF PROF. FISHER. 169 mediately, in view of the fact that of these three hun- dred stems very many are from the same classic tongue, we are vitally interested in recognizing the prefixes and stems which make our English what it is. It matters not whether the English system of pronouncing Latin has been* used one hundred years, three hundred yearsj or one thousand years : what we are concerned with is that the English language as it is now stands has been founded on the old-fashioned pronunciation of Latin. This is indisputably true. Philologic and antiquarian research is one thing; the progress of a language, like that of nations, is quite a different thing. For centuries the Latin has been making its rich contributions to our noble English. These additions to our language are being made to-day, as they will be made in the future, and that from necessity. One thing of inestimable value to every student is a thorough knowledge of his mother tongue a matter sadly neg- lected in many of our colleges and universities. The question for English-speaking people to settle is as to which pronunciation leads most directly to a vig- orous and thorough use of our mother tongue. We answer unhesitatingly, the English. Let us have one thing at a time. The bearing of the new pronunciation on comparative philology will receive due attention hereafter. Now we are concerned with the vernacular. Prof. Haldeman says: "Sounds and not letters furnish the material for etymology." This is true, and we wish no better basis for our present argument. The English method assists the student, even in his early Latin course, in his etymology; and the derivation of words, in a multitude of instances, becomes manifest from the very pronunciation itself. Take the word circumjacent, lor example, from circumjaceo. Pronouncing this word by 170 UNIVEKSITY OP MISSOURI. the English method, sur-cum-ja-se-o, at once reveals to the pupil the origin of circumjacent. The likeness is clear even to a child. But pronounce the same word by the Roman sys- tem, and circumjaceo becomes keer-koom-yah-ke-o / The connection can be seen only by advanced Scholars, and is very likely not seen then. Take the words rup- ture, rustic, social, rumination, from r upturn, rusticus, socius, and ruminatio. When these Latin words are pronounced by the English mode the origin of the word is clear; but let the Latin be pronounced roop-toom, roos-tee-coos, so-kee-ooss, and roo-mee-nah-tee-o, and the origin is obscured by foreign sounds. Try vicinity, vital, citation, equation, civil, and equity, frooi mcinitas, vitalis^ citatio, aequatio, civilis, and aequitas. The English mode reveals the truth, for "sounds furnish the material for etymology." Apply the so-called Roman and say luec-kee-nee-tahs, ~vee-tah-leess, kee-ta-tee-o^ aye-kah- tee-o, kee-ivee-leesS) and aye-kee-tahs, and English ety- mology is offered a sacrifice to a revolutionary innova- tion. Again, look at the common verbal stems jac, val, die, due, pel, and so on through the list. Whenever these steins occur in our language, the English system of pronouncing Latin gives a clew to both the origin and meaning of the words, as, for example, ejaculatory, valid, diction, induction, compel. It does not require an advanced scholar to verify and applv the statements just made. The most diligent scholar of any age who has not made the trial, will be surprised to find in how many of our words these Latin verbal stems form the permanent home of the idea. The student of Latin can easily be induced to form the habit, from the very start, of tracing up the deriva- tion of words, and the habit thus formed may be of in- LECTURE OF PROF. FISHER. 171 calculable benefit in other directions. On the other hand the Roman method confuses the student in both deriva- tion and signification, or so entirely conceals them, that the beneficial results to genuine English scholarship are almost totally sacrificed. Loyalty to what some are pleased to call the "demonstrated rights of the Latin" may be a good thing, but loyalty to a masterly under- standing of our own tongue is a far better. The Roman mode abandons one of the strongest incentives that can be brought to bear in the classroom, that of enabling the pupil to see and hear at once and easily the iniimate relation between the Latin and the English. 5. The sweeping change advocated by the new pro- nunciation tends to a complete revolution in the pronun- ciation of our own language. Professor Thacher, of Yale College, uses the following language: "For, to speak of Latin words which we have adopted, how long will Cicero maintain his place in English pronunciation after the rod shall have banished him from the lips of all Anglo-Saxon boys and girls who thumb the little Latin histories of the men of Rome, and shall have substituted the classical kee-ka-ro in his place? How long will Caesar stand against Kaisar, Scipio against Skee-peeo, Fabricius against Fah-bree-kee-oos, Cyrus against Kee- roos, Tacitus against Taketoos, and so on through a long list of proper names which make a familiar part of our English language. Prima facie evidence will be- come preemah fahkeeah evidence, the quid pro quo, keed pro co; the genius loci, a ganeeoos lokee; the mens conscia, a mans conskeeah (o as in cone); scilicet, skee- leekat; et cetera, at katarah." Let v be pronounced like TV, and note the way the most common expressions will be transformed : viva voce becomes wee-wah uw-kay. 172 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI per centum becomes par kane-toom. jure divino yoo-ray dee-wee-no. jus civile " yoos kee-wee-lay. verbatim wayer-bah-teem. vivat regina wee-waht ray-gee-nah. And hopeless confusion is made of the many Latin words incorporated into English, as utile dulce must be oo-tee-lay dool-cay ; vale, wah-lay. vice versa , wee kay ivayer-sah. ceteris paribus, kay-tay-reess pakr-ee-boos. statu QUO, stah-too koe. This illustration might be prolonged indefinitely, for the material is abundant, but there is no necessity for it. What has been given is a fair sample of the radical change the so-called Roman must introduce to our class- rooms, and, in fact, in all the walks of life where Latin is at all employed. MOSAIC COSMOGONY. BY A. MEYROW.ITZ, PROFESSOR OF THE SHEMITIC LANGUAGES AND LITERATURE, IN THE UNIVER- SITY OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI. In entering upon the subject of Creation, we meet three classes of objectors to this doctrine: i. The Athe- ists; 2. The Antiquarians, and 3. The Infidels. The answer to the first class we give thus: That the mate- rial universe, of which our globe forms a part, is not eternal consequently the world which we inhabit is not eternal. Or we may argue thus: 4 I exist,' this is self- evident. 4 I am not the author of my existence;' this is also self-evident.' I therefore must be a created .being. That being to whom I owe my existence derives his from himself, or, like me, owes it to another. If he exists himself, he must be the eternal God. If not, I argue about him as about the former. Thus I ascend, thus I must ascend, till I arrive at that being who does exist of himself, and who has always existed. Dr. Grosvener says the Christian's creed is: "I believe in God the Father Almighty maker of heaven and earth." The Atheist's creed is : "I believe in nothing the origin of all things." Which do you think is the most philo- sophical r The second class, the Antiquarians say : "Remote 174 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. authentic antiquity ascribes a vastly greater age to this globe than that set forth by the inspired historian Moses. We answer, that the cosmogony of Moses contemplates simply a history of the origin of the human species; all the other parts thereof being incidental. And I main- tain that the first verse is but an introductory passage, solving the great problem of "whence the existence of all that which we see?" (B'reshith.) In the begining of time, when time was yet not; for things existing measure time. It does not limit to any period, or calpa, put it at what extent you will. (Bara) Created, brought into existence what was not before. Upon comparison of this Mosaic record with the most ancient system of heathen philosophy, there can be traced tolerable marks of correspondence. Orpheus says: "In the beginning the heavens were made by God, and in the heavens there was a chaos, and a terrible darkness was on all the parts of this chaos, and covered all things under the heaven." Almost liter- ally Biblical. Anaxagorus says: "All things were at first in one mass, but an intelligent agent came and put it in order." Aristotle, though he believed in a materia principia^ says: "All things lay in one mass for a vast space of time, but an intelligent agent came and put them in motion and so separated them from one an- other." (Elohim) God, the creator being infinite can not be comprehended by the finite. All that man knows of the Creator, is, that He exists. Therefore when Moses asked this Being "What is His name?" (Exodus Hi- 13.) that Being answered : (Ehejek asher ehejeh) I shall be who shall be (English version I am that I am) i. e. : All that you mortal can know of me is, my existence. And LECTURE OF PROF. MEYBOWITZ. 175 so the word Jehovah means Existing-, which the Jews never pronounced, except the high priest in temple on the day of Atonement. God in English, we know, is formed from the adjective good. Elohim the plural masculine from JSl, strong^ signifies, the concentration of powers; the intelligent forces to produce the things created. You will find therefore in this first chapter of creation only the name Elohim. (Hashomayim) the heaven, it is a word, or noun, in the dual form, made of the adverb sham there, i. e. space, sphere, and as the sphere is divided in two, one above the horizon and the other below, the word heaven or sphere is in Dual. Moses speaks only of the visible atmosphere as Aben Ezra explains it. (Hoorets) the earth, the terrestial globe in its gas- eous state. Maimonicles, and other Jewish Metaphysi- cians understand the word heaven to be form, and earth materia. At any rate is this heaven not to be confound- ed with the heaven described in the first chapter of Ezekiel or the heaven so often spoken of in the New Testament, which is the heaven of beatitude. (V'hoarets hoytho touhu vobouhu) And the earth was desolate and empty. There are acknowledged be- lievers in Christianity who nevertheless believe in a materia principia like the learned Gratius and Vatabu- lus. They understand the words "touhu, vobouhu" to represent chaos ; arid read thus : "Before God created* the heavens and earth, everything was contained in the chaos." Chaos was also not created. But such a read- ing cannot possibly be correct. In the first place, the verb must stand in infinitive construction, "B'rou" in- stead of "Boro" in preterit. Secondly the words "touhu vobouhu" are adjectives, asratos, inanis et vaena, with- out form and void. 176 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. (V'choushech al p'nai th'houm) And darkness upon the depth. In Deuteronomy -4, we read, u mi- touch hoaish," out of the midst of the fire, and in verse 20 in loco, we read "mitouch hachoushech," out of the midst of the darkness, which means the same. Hence I understand that the word darkness here also means fire, and the idea is, that after the creation of the gaseous globe the element of fire was surrounding it. (V'rooach Elohim m'rachefeth al p'nai hamnioyim) And the wind of Elohim was (brooding) hovering upon the face of the waters. 1 am well aware that Christology understands the word "V'raach," and the Spirit, the third person in the holy Trinity. There is even a most remarkable saying in Jewish literature: "The spirit of God, that is, the spirit of Christ (Mo shiach)." But I am giving you a simple textual lecture. The word "m'rachefeth," translated moving, is beauti- fully adapted here for the idea of activity in creation. It is used to express the hovering of a bird over its nest in brooding its eggs. The Cabalah says: "The spirit hovered like a dove, touching and not touching." The simple meaning in the text is, the cooliiijg off of the globe after its creation. The first verse of Genesis speaks of the creation of the substance, or prinia mate- ria of the heavens and earth. The second of the vital energies of a supernatural agency, in preparing the pri- mordial elements for subsequent organization. And the third and following verses to the end of the. chapter of arranging those elements in their proper form. (3 verse. Vayoumer Eloumin y'hi our) And Elou- him said: "Let there be light." The word "amar" means also he thought, lie wished, as in Ecclesiastes ii-i. "I said in my heart." Elohim wished, and it was. Or, light; it seems most rational, by this light to understand L.ECTWRE OF PROF. MKYROWITZ. 177 those particles of matter which we call fire, which the Almighty Spirit' that formed all things, produced as the great instrument for the preparation and digestion of the rest of the matter; which was still more vigorously moved and agitated, from the top to the bottom, by this restless element, till the purer and more shining parts of it, being separated from the grosser and united in a body fit to retain them, became light. The Talmud says: "By the light which God created on the first day, men could see from one end of the world to the other end." It means to say, that this light was diffused over the whole globe, not being concentrated. This light is to be carefully distinguished from that of the fourth day, when it was concentrated in the receptacles of light, i. e. the sun. (4 verse.) This celestial fluid in a state of activity, is called "or," light, and the same in an inactive state is called "choushcch," darkness. As the darkness, or rest is the negative of activity, or light light, the text men- tions first evening and then morning. Mephistophiles, in Faust by Goethe, says: "The light which darkness bare." (5 verse.) Youm echod one day. The question whether it means a natural or solar day of twenty-four hours, or a period of vastly greater length is difficult to decide. If we reason that nature and Providence are gradual in their operations; not like man, who is always for subitaneous violence, but deliberately proceeding by gradual evolutions, the six days must mean periods of- stupendous length. But when we suppose that creation involves the intervention of a miracle in giving existence to the material universe; and if by the intervention of a miracle, then why extend it continuously through periods of stupendous length? We come now to the 178 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. work ol the second day, the separation of air and water. The word "rokia" signifies expansion, a gaseous fluid, and not firmament, as the English version, which is taken from the Septuagint. This constituted the next step of advance in the organi/ation of the chaotic aqueous matter. For till there was an expanse, or at- mosphere, the particles of water thrown off by the con- tinued action of fire on the primeval elements, could not ascend. This expanse provided, the process of evapo- ration could go on, the smaller particles being raised above by exhalation, and the larger body of water re- maining below. Thus the atmosphere, and which is 1;ie same material heaven, through which the birds of the air wing their devious course, "-divided the waters which were above them from the waters which were below them." Water, "mavim, M has for this reason the Dual form. On the third day, sea and land were disunited, and the earth was made to produce vegetation. Each suc- vc process in the conformation of the primeval aqueous matter to the purpose designed, should be sedulously kept in view. The chaotic element had by the organization of the first two days, produced suc- cessively and in the following order, darkness, light, the atmosphere and a division of the exhalated particles of water, from the denser fluid. This fluid, however, was subject to another process, that of bringing together its granitic and earthly elements; the former consisting of the primitive rock, or skeleton of our globe, the latter, l -oil with which they were covered, as indispensable to the purposes of vegetation. Hence the division of earth and water, or land and sea, and the production of grass, herbs and trees. On the fourth day a more perfect division of dark- LECTURE OF PROF. MEYROWITX. 179 ness and .light into day and night was produced, by placing in the material heavens, the sun, the moon and the stars. Thenceforward, the diurnal revolutions of the sun and moon, established the divisions of time into days, months and years, and the seasons into those of of summer and winter. These luminaries are called "m'ourouth," light-bearers, receptacles of "or," light created at first. On the fifth day, was the formation of fishes, and of birds. By the formation of the sea-monsters, in reason of their enormousness, the word "Boro," to create, is employed by the writer. The work of the sixth day was appropriated to the formation of the various species and genus of beasts and reptiles, and finally of man. Here again the verb "Bora,'' to create, is used, referring to the soul. Hi* body was made out of the dust of the earth, but his soul was a new creature, a portion of God from above. (26 verse.) (Naasseh Odom) Let us make inan. This plural form of the verb has given rise to many speculative exegesis, but without entering into the merit or demerit of these various speculations; I believe that the Deity addressed hero his material creation and said: Let us, Me and the earth, form man. Thou earth give the matter, and I will create the mind, and both combined will make man. lie will then be in both our image, and like unto both of us. The carnal body will bind him to earth, and his soul will make him God- like. And this God-like nature will make him lord of all lower creation, but not lord over their life; animal food was not allowed him. (31 verse.) (Vayaar Elohim) And God saw, means, and God approved, as, 4i l see he is right." (Toob m'oud) vero good; in Hebrew is "m'oud," the superla- 180 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. tive the best. The world created was the best that God could have created. The Bible teaches the doctrine of **C)ptemismus," fallen men are the pessimists. (II 2 verse.) (Vaychal Elohim) And God finish- ed. The finishing on the seventh day has caused the Septuagint, and other manuscripts to write "And God finished on the sixth day. But the word "Vaychal" can also have the meaning and "he liked". (See Psalm 84-2). The reading would be thus: "And God liked on the seventh day. His work which he made." When the order of the Mosaic Cosmogony will be compared with the geological strata of the globe (as the lecturer compared it at the end of his lecture with ,, LECTURE OF PROF. BLISS. severe. The constitution of the good king vServius" -/ V .J had lived in their hearts and hopes and they had not ceased to struggle, and with some success, for the relief which he had .sought to give them. Before the days of the Decemvirs they had acquired small homesteads, their place in the centuries, with the increasing politi- cal power of that organization, had become undisputed, and the assembly of the tribes, composed at this time ex- clusively of plebians, had become a legal body with im- portant political powers. This body could initiate laws, but the patrician Curies and Senate always ignored every unpalatable proposition, and patrician mobs were wont to interrupt or break up their assemblies, They were practically without protection even in the few legal rights which were conceded to them, for they were without magistrates who possessed any power outside their own order. In view of this want, the commons, by the first secession to Mous Sacer had obtained the celebrated Tribunate, an office which would be the ' source of endless confusion, if not anarchy, in a govern- ment of equal laws, but which, in the antagonist popu- lations of Rome, became their only efficient protection. I have no time even to allude to the many and long struggles which resulted in the emancipation of the plebians, in the opening of that career of conquest, and in the successful establishment of little Romcs, through- out the conquered territories, that have made Rome, though so long dead, still the active, the moving power among men. But my subject to-night, 4 The fall of the Decemvirate,' demands that I briefly speak of the crea- tion of that celebrated magistracy, chosen, like the Archonship of Solon, to reform the hiws and which re- sulted in the adoption of the XII Tables, a code of com- manding importance in its bearing upon the jurispru- dence of the world. 186 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. I have alluded to the fact that the law was adminis- tered exclusively by the patricians and have also alluded to their rapacity and disposition to grind the face of the commons. At this period, except occasional enactments for special objects, there were in Rome no written laws; and it is not likely that written codes were known in any of the neighboring states. Controversies were de- termined in accordance with certain generally received rules or customs, recognized but not ordained, customs which had existed more or less settled and developed, for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, before the foundation of the city. Those which at this and subse- quent periods were common to the Italian cities with which the Romans held intercourse came to be called the jits n'ent'iiini or jus naturae, while the jus civile pertained to Rome alone. The complaint of the ple- bians in regard to legal administration was two-fold. First the law was uncertain and was often perverted in the interest of the ruling class. They demanded a written code so published as to be known to all and with severe penalties upon any recreant magistrate who should disregard it. What some of those penalties were, we shall presently see. They also desired a system of laws that should apply equally to all classes of citizens: hitherto there had been one law for the patrician and one for the plebian. They demanded also an equal par- ticipation in the magistracy. It had become very appa- rent that so long as all the great offices were held by their enemies, so long as, when appealed to for redress of injuries, the}- could make the law whatever they saw fit to call it, so long as, even in theory, the two classes were not equal before the law, it would be in vain to strive for other reforms. Dispairing therefore of justice without a revolution in the judicial system, they dropped all oth- I KCTURE OF PROF. BLJ>- 187 er demands, and in the year 293 from the foundation of the city and forty-eight years after the expulsion of Tar - quin, the Tribune Terentelius brought before the assem- bly of the Tribes a lex, an act we should call it, for the election of ten magistrates to be taken equally from both classes, to superccdc the Consuls, the Tribunes, the Quaestors, the Ediles, and whose first duty should be to codify and publish the laws and provide lor the political arrtalgamaiion of the orders. This proposition aroused every passion of the aristocrats. It would be interesting and instructive, as showing that human nature is the same in all ages, that political ascendency and class priv- ilege are never surrendeacd without a struggle, to note in some detail the fierce and bloody strifes over the Terentilian law during the next decade. But I have no time to-night. Suffice it upon this occasion to say that after a struggle of nine years, after every device lawful and lawless had been interposed in opposition, the pa- tience and perseverance of the commons was rewarded with success. The Senate and the assembly of the Curies so far yielded as to authorize the election of the Decemvirs to supercede all other magistrates, and direct- ed that they should codify and publish the laws. The work of the first Decemvirs was highly satis- factory. In framing the code, they took to their aid the Greek philosopher Hermodorus, made him their secre- tary as we would call it, drew up the first ten Tables, and caused them to be engraved upon brass and exposed in the Comitium for public inspection. These laws were well received and no complaint wa*- made of the civil administration. One of the ablest of the Decemvirs was ^Vppius Claudius. Aristocrat by birth and instinct, he thirsted for power and had labored to make himself popular by 188 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. seeming to be the chief instrument in gratifying the commons through the adoption of an excellent code. He belonged to the celebrated Sabine Claudian family, which, a generation before, had been adopted by the Curies and incorporated into the Roman aristocracy. Almost every generation of this family, from its first en- trance into the city until the imperial Claudius, had fur- nished men of marked ability. They were never sol- diers, were rather distinguished as orators and adroit po- litical managers, were always remorseless patricians without a spark of sympathy with the commons, though upon occasion they made very successful demagogues. It takes a heartless aristocrat to make a genuine dema- gogue, and nothing so pleases him as, while subjecting the people to his will, to degrade them by flattering their vices and by exciting their jealousies against those who would elevate and ennoble them. At the end of the year the work of the -Decemvirs was not completed and another election became neces- sary. Niebuhr thinks they were to be a permanent mag- istracy and that the new election was in regular order,, while others suppose that they were chosen for a special purpose, and that this election was only to complete their work. But we know that a new election was had, and Appius Claudius was the only one of the old body who was re-elected. Finding himself secure in his position, that his new colleagues could be controlled by him, and hoping for nothing more from the plebs, the dema- gogue threw off the mask, made his peace, with his own order, and managed to render this administration the most infamous known in the Annals. Two Tables were added to the code containing, as Cicero says, some une- qual laws, among which was the provision that if a pa- trician should wed the daughter of a plebian, the fruit LECTURE OF PROF. BLIS. 189 of the marriage should belong to the lower order. For this the commons cared but little, it served only to strengthen their own class, but they cared much for the oppressive orders and unjust judgments to which the new Decemvirs subjected them. For some forty years ' they had enjoyed the protection of their own Tribunes, the arm of the Consul was often paralized by his veto and they had succeeded in banishing some of the most illustrious patricians but now the office is supercedcd and there is no one clothed with legal authority to shield them from outrage. The patricians could not look upon the Decemvirs with favor, for they had been forced upon them by the plebians, but still they delighted to see this fruit of the popular victory brought home to the commons, and stood aloof, or encouraged the tyrants. The year run out and no new election was called: it seemed that the Council of Ten had determined to fol- low the example of the tyrants of the Grecian cities and hold on to their power. How long this state of things would have continued but for an attempted outrage by Appius cannot be known, but, as the immediate cause of their overthrow, the Roman Annals, or perhaps the Roman Legends, have left us the exciting story of Vir- ginia. In giving you this story to-night, I hope it will not be considered any the less truthful if I do not tread in all the steps of Livy; at least I will not, like him and Macaulay, put long speeches into the mouths of the excited actors, when their words must have been short and sharp. I must detain you from the story a little longer, for it cannot be well understood without some idea of a Roman court of justice. At this period the famous basilicas had not been built and all suits were instituted, the nature of the controversy was ascertained, and usu- 190 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOU&1. ally the final trials were had in the Forum, in the open air. This celebrated place, on which for more than a thousand years were acted scenes of greater public sig- nificance than in any other spot on earth, was but an oblong public space in the heart of Rome of about four acres of land, extending south from the base of the Cap- itolinc hUl with diminishing width to near the eastern slope of the Palatine. The Senate Chamber overlooked it from the Capitoline and the assembly of the centuries the exercitus was held in the Campus Martins out- side and north of the walls the aimv, as such, not being suffered in the city. The importance of this little arc;? will appear when we consider that, except the Senate fcncl the centuries, no legal public assembly, whether of the curies or the tribes, no elections, no legislation by the commons or by the patrician body, and no courts of justice could be lawfully held except in the Forum Ro- manum. The judicial power in earl}- Rome was vested first in the Kings, afterwards in the Consuls, and at the time of which I am speaking, in the Decemvirs. The plaintiff, in bringing his action, did not, as with us, sue out a summons, or a capias, to be served upon his adver- sary by a public officer, but himself seixed and brought him before the magistrate. The defendant was bound to yield, for the plaintiff was as the sheriff in the case and could enforce obedience. The Consul, or at the time of which I am speaking, one of the Decemvirs, and in after centuries the Praetor sat in the open Forum to hear complaints, and when the parties came before him, an early day was fixed to make up the issues as the lawyers call it, that is, to ascertain the real nature of the complaint and defense. At this second appearance the character of the controversy was ascertained, and the whole matter was referred to a jude.v, who was instruct- LKOTUKE OF PROF. BLISS. 191 ed to hear the evidence, to decide upon the facts and to render judgment in accordance with the directions of the magistrate upon the question of law involved. Long after the age of the Decemvirs the formulary sys- tem, so celebrated in Roman jurisprudence, was adopted by the Proctors, by which all issues were made up in writing according to exact formulas and the directions of o o the -Proctor were also in writing; but at this period the allegations of the parties were verbal and the instruc- tions to the judex were also delivered to him verbally by an officer sent with the parties for that purpose. Had 1 tijnc to-night it would be interesting to go more into detail in regard to these trials, but from what has been said you will perceive that in them was embodied the fundamental idea of our own jury system, the determi- nation of the questions of law and of what should be the issues between the parties being made by the magis- trate with a submission of the facts to a lay citizen. At the tiaie of which I am speaking no one but a Senator could be a judex, and though the class from which he might be chosen was afterwards extended, yet it was always confined to the highest rank of citizens. The judicial function, whether exercised by the Procter or judex, was with the Romans as it is with us, the highest in. internal administration, with this difference, that with them such service was gratuitous and no one could be entrusted with questions affecting life, liberty or prop- erly, unless he had a large pecuniary interest in the 1 '! I . K I, E( .END. An unsuccessful war was being waged against the Equians and Sabines, two legions were in the field un- der eight of the Decemvirs, leaving in the city as the sole magistrates, the tyrant Appius Claudius and his col- 192 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. league Oppius. Lucius Vifginrtis, belonging to the better ckiss of the plebians, a centurion and abroad with his legion, left at home- a beautiful daughter who had been betrothed to Icilius, a distinguished leader of the commons. As, with her maid, she daily came to her school adjoining the Forum, Appius fastened his eyes upon her. His allurements were disregarded. Piqued and inflamed by the obstacles in his way, and not doubt- ing his own omnipotence in the city, he determined to secure her person through the fraudulent exercise of his legitimate power as magistrate. To this end he sub- orned one of the clients of his house to demand the fair Virginia a< a child of one of his iemale slaves, to claim that she had been adopted by the childless wife of Virginius and imposed upon him as her own. A client in Rome was something higher than a slave and some- thing less than a ireeman. He could hold property, but owed more than feudal service to his patron, and could never act in anv public matter against his will. One day, on the way to her school, the lass was seized by this client, her pretended owner, but the crowd, which was drawn together by the outcries of her maid, on see- ing her beauty and learning the names of her father and affianced husband, promptly interfered and rendered forcible abduction impossible. They were somewhat appeased by the apparent fairness of the tool of the De- cemvir, who disclaimed violence, and was only about to institute his claim to the girl in a strictly legal manner. Accordingly he was suffered to bring her before the magistrate, then in his judgment seat surrounded by his lictors, before whom he made his formal demand. Such was Roman slavery, .that, had his statement been true, or had a judex, perhaps corruptly, found it to be true, no limitation of time which bars al! other demands, no LECTURE OF PROF. BLISS. 193 refinement of manners which elevates their possessor above servile employments, no affection of family or friends who would retain her in the sphere in which she had been reared, no offer to the claimant of pecuni- ary compensation, which heals all wrongs and satisfies all other claims, could have availed the poor girl. As the property of the demandant, she was absolutely and forever subject to his will. But there was also a law in Rome that made the condition of servitude an affirma- tive fact to be established, and it was expressly re-enact- ed in the Twelve Tables that, until final trial, persons claimed as slaves, should be left in possession of their freedom, although they were required to give bail for their appearance. It would certainly seem that Vir- ginia was in no danger, for the story of her birth was a fiction; it of course could never be substantiated and in the mean time the law preserved her from the hands of the claimant. It was nf)t yet known that the whole pro- ceeding had been set on foot by the magistrate himself, nor could it be imagined that even Appius would disre- gard one of the provisions of his own code which he had just caused to be engraved upon brass and placed in the comitium. To prevent the violation of law by such magistrates as he, was one of the objects sought by Ter- rentelius, in demanding that the laws be reduced to writ- ing and published. So far the pretended master of the girl had only presented his formal demand, the selection of a judex and the trial were to be at some future day to be named. By a later enactment, the time for the second appearance was fixed at thirty days, although now, it was left to the discretibn of the magistrate. Appius was too consider- rate to hurry on the proceeding and kindly consented to its postponement, but the girl was under the paternal 194 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. power, and inasmuch as no one except the father could give lawful bail for her appearance, he directed the claimant to take her to his house and give security for her forthcoming when the father should answer the summons. Imagine the import of this. She was to be taken by this dependant of Appius, both living perhaps within the same walls, and taken as his slave, legally sub- ject to his absolute control even to the taking of life. The bystanders, if by this time they did not see the object of the whole proceeding, clearly saw the effect of this order, and sent up a groan of indignation. Icilius, who had just heard of the conspiracy against the honor of his affianced, pressed forward through the lictors, took his stand by her side, was followed by a crowd of sympathisers, and the hounds were for the time balked of their prey. Meeting with this unexpected obstacle, the Decemvir was forced to temporise, and, trusting to the cooling effect upon the cro\*d of a little delay, and to his ability to bring upon the ground a force sufficient to overcome all resistance, announced that he would take bail for her appearance in the morning when he would decide the preliminary question as to the custody of the young girl, until the time for sending the parties before the judex. While Icilius detained the court in arranging as to sureties, two friends of Virginius secretly withdrew and rode with all speed to the camp, well knowing that a little delay would result in his being prevented from re- turning to the city, The brave centurion thus notified, at once obtained leave of absence, and was on his way to the rescue of his child before the messengers of the Decemvir had reached the army with a command for his detention. Thus the wings of friendship were swifter than those of lust. There was little sleep that LECTURE OF PROF. BLISS 195 night in the house of Virginius. The animus of the Decemvir must have been suspected and if the suspicion should be verified there was little room for hope. The implicit obedience given to the orders of our own courts furnish but an imperfect idea of the power of the De- cemviral tribunal. This man was not only the highest- judge, but he was as a very king. His curule seat or throne, his robes, his eagle-mounted scepter, his lie-tors were all royal, lie sat precisely as had the Tarquins, lacking only the crown. In him was centered for the time the power of the Consuls, the Proetors, the Tri- bunes, the Quaestors, the Ediles; any resistance to his authority was not simply a contempt of court, it was re- bellion and death. Early in the morning came the Decemvir prepared to meet any resistance. Also came Virginius in the at- tire of a suppliant, followed by a great company of Roman matrons and friends, and, as he led his daughter into the forum, appealing to the bystanders, showing that his cause was the cause of all, Icilius joined him and also invoked his friends and the Roman moth- ers who had followed them, added their tears to the general sorrow. The multitude were moved by the Hcene, but Appius had prepared himself for any emer- gency by bringing to the Forum into court as we should say a band of armed patricians to aid his regular lictors in enforcing any order he might make. The client and pretended master Marcus Claudius, renewed his demand and the ermined scoundrel, eager for the possession of her person, hastened to decree that until ihe cause should be remanded to a judex, the maiden should be delivered as a slave into the possession of her master. All were shocked by so bald a defiance of law. I say all, but I do not include those bands of patrician ruffians who 196 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. were always ready to second any outrage upon the com- mons, or upon the honor of plebian families. Marcus went to lay hold of the girl, Virginias threatened, the matrons wept aloud, and the friends of the centurion hurled hack the despot's minion. This was an open de- fiance of the court, was rebellion, illegal in form, though in the interest of law. In Republican and Pa- gan Rome trials happily were public secret tribunals were reserved for another age and another faith the reverence for law which pre-eminently controlled the Roman commons that conservative instinct, so essen- tial to the life of a free state had rendered these trials, although held in the open market place, as orderly as in any modern hall of justice. And even now, und.-r a provocation that would justify any resistance, the habit- ual reverence and respect felt for the law and its admin- istration by those who thus witnessed their fearful pros- titution, served well the purpose of the tyrant. The power of the Tribunes had been suspended, Consuls and Proetors and Dictators had all given way to the Council of Ten, and Appius sat in the forum, in the accustomed seat of soverignty, as the sole representative of the maj- esty of the law. Rising in his robes of office, seeing on either side his lictors with their axes, and behind them his bands of retainers and of armed patrician youth, all ready to do his bidding, his heart was re-as- sured. Stretching forth his scepter, he boldly doomed to death all who should resist his mandate and, pointing to the trembling maiden, loudly ordered the lictors to disperse the mob and deliver her to her master. As the officers stept forward to obey, the people instinctive- ly recoiled, leaving the father and lover alone with the unhappy girl. They saw that it was impossible to re- sist, and also saw, and with terrible distinctness, the fate IiKCTURK OF PROF. BLISS. 197 that awaited her. As Virginius looked upon his daugh- ter, a terrible anguish and uncertainty overspread his face. But as he looked again at Appius and at the ap- proaching lictors, the cloud rolled away and was follow- ed by a strange exaltation. He asked permission to take his daughter and her maid one side to learn from the latter whether the story of Marcus was true, and the tyrant, seeing it to be impossible for them to escape, and not wishing to seem wantonly severe, granted the re- quest. The poor girl was bewildered, could hardly take in the import of what was passing, but with child- ish faith clung to her father, while almost recoiling from the unwonted fire that lit his eye. He led her to the side of the forum, where was a butcher's stall, seized a knife and, huskily saying, u This my daughter will keep thee free,' 1 plunged it to her heart. Raising the stream- ing blade and turning to the baffled Decemvir he ex- claimed, "Upon thy head, tyrant accursed, be the blood of this child," and boldly marching through the Forum, all giving way and the lictors themselves too paralized to obey the orders of Appius to arrest him, he mounted his horse and rode for the camp. Icilius had rushed to the side of Virginius and re- ceived the slain maiden from his hand. By the aid of his friend Numatorius, he improvised a litter and raised the body to the view of all. No mother was there, she had long since died, and sisters she had none, but the young brothers, the kinsman and a multitude of friends, all crowded round. Some wailed, some cursed, some only wept. They deplored the fatal beauty of Virginia, the dire necessity of the father. "Is it for this" exclaim- ed the matrons, "that \ve rear our daughters in virtue?" A sad procession started for the home of Virginius upon the Aventine. Icilius was known to all : he was too full to T.U8 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. weep, almost to speak; as he led the procession and rec- ognized his friends he could only point to the body and to the forum where Appius still sat. To young Ve- truvius, just coming in from the country, known to be betrothed to a friend of Virginia and clamorously won- dering what all this meant, he could only say: "Your turn my friend will come next." In threading the Ve- labrum and passing under the Palatine, the first home of the robber band that founded the city and the con- tinued home of their robber descendants, Icilius could but hurl a half smothered curse at the gloomy houses of the tyrant caste, as their dark walls frowned down upon them. But soon the procession rose from the valley and the body was tenderly deposited in the house of Virgin- Jus. "Dearest," said the patriot lover as he stooped to imprint a fevered kiss, "thoti shall yet rest in peace! the tyrant shall die! Let thy shade attend me until sweet revenge shall open to thee the gates of the blest!" and tearing themselves away he and his friend left for sterner duties. They were not allowed to begin the fight. Appius had ordered Icilius to be seized, and he himself, leading his lictors and the band of young patricians that sur- rounded him, rushed forward to make the arrest. But in the mean time Valerius and Horatius, leaders of the small band of patricians, who had always sought justice for the plebians, had appeared upon the scene and rallied the people around Icilius. Their appeals fell on willing ears. The shopman who had daily smiled upon the young girl, as, in her fresh beauty, with pencil and tablet, she passed on her way to school, the father who thought of his daughters at home, the lover who knew not but the turn of his own betrothed would come next, the citizen who, after having obtained the codifica- \ LECTURE OF PROF. BLISS. 199 tion of the laws and their equal application to all, had fancied himself secure in his rights, all felt that the cause was theirs, and placed themseves under their new lead- ers. The fasces of the lictors were broken and the pa- trician band was driven back. Appius again mounts his throne and demands obedience. Valerius, speaking with the authority of a senator, pronounces him a usurper and orders his guards to leave him. But by this time the story of the Decemvir's crime had run through the city; the whole body of the commons had become aroused and the mad murmur of the thick gathering crowd, like the roar of approaching breakers, paralized the lictors and the young bravos who had come to see the sport and to enforce the degradation of a plebian house, slunk out of sight. Appius is left alone with his lictors. See the aris- tocrat, the demagogue, the tyrant, as, now pale, now red, he crouches with terror at some fresh burst of pop- ular wrath, or, assuming courage as the storm may seem to lull, pours out anathemas in the name of the gods and of Rome, or, struck by a fresh missile, pales again, stretches out his scepter, wondering that the emblem of sovreignty to which all were wont to bow, should no longer protect him! What now to him are the royal robes, what the ivory scepter, the curule chair! See Icilius, the pale stern lover, the peoples, friend, as, under the wing of the two senators, he leads them on ! Hear him shout the curse of the blood stained father, "On thy head, tyrant accursed, be the blood of this child!" Ah, sir; this is not the couch to which you invited yourself, nor the dalliance which you craved! Look! The missiles come thicker and faster. Bruised and bleeding, covering his head with his robe of state, the Decemvir bids the lictors hurry him off, and he succeeds in hiding 200 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. himself behind a near and friendly wall. History repeats itself. Almost in our own day we have seen a Jeffries, the browbeating, the cruel, the un- just judge, cower in abject terror behind prison walls, as he hears the people cry for vengeance upon his guilty head, Oppius, one of the Decemvirs, finding his colleague Appius already driven from the seat of power and the city in an insurrection which he was impotent to quell, called together the Senate. This seems to be the only body whose authority at this time was not superceded by that of the Decemvirs. Its constitutional existence, with great but somewhat varying authority, was, at all times and by all parties, treated as a matter of course. The Senate met; it was not disposed to hurry in its delibera- tions, thinking perhaps that the popular fever would cool ; the army at least was secure. We left Virginius on his way to the army stained with blood and bearing the bloody knife \vith which he had delivered his daughter. He was followed by many who had witnessed the scene. The story of her sad fate, of the passion and cruel judgment of Appius, flew through the camp. Had there been no other ground of complaint, this might not have been sufficient to drive the citizen soldiers to extreme measures. But as we have seen, immediately upon the election of the last De- cemvirs, Appius had deserted those who had chosen him and reconciled himself to the aristocracy. To earn its fa- vor he had at all times abetted or winked at the custom- ary outrages upon the commons, a favorite one being the profanation of their families. It is related also that a distinguished soldier, whose body showed scars from wounds received in more than a hundred battles, but who had offended the Decemvirs, had been found dead near LECTURE OF PROF. BLISS. 201 the camp, and that circumstances pointed clearly to those in command as having procured his assassination. Un- der these circumstances it is no wonder that the story of Virginius was like a spark to a magazine. The legion rose rts one man, threw off the authority of its comman- der, marched to Rome, entered the Colline gate in mar- tial order, threaded the chief streets and camped on Mount Aventine. They elected ten military tribunes and refused to receive any message from the Senate un- less sent through their friends Valerius and Horatius. In the mean time Icilius and his friend Numitorius had gone to another camp of the Romans at Fedinae and the same story produced the same effect. This army also expelled its commander, chose other ten Tribunes of the soldiers, marched to Rome and joined their brethren upon the plebian hill. Here the Tribunes chose two to represent the twenty, and all waited to hear from the Senate. But that body temporized, it had no love for the Decemvirs, nor can we believe that the senators ap- proved of the personal indignities from which so many of the commons had suffered, but it hated the Tribu- nate and the Tribunate was just what the people wanted. Every other scheme for protection had failed, while this seemingly anarchial magistracy had usually been suc- cessful, and the Senators had no hope, if the present government should be suppressed, of being able to avoid its restoration. The Senate made no movement tow aid pacification and the commons saw that they must do something more than appeal to its sense of justice. For nearly a hundred years the struggle had been going on. Two of the later kings had been murdered because of their desire to recognize the plebs as part ot the State, to protect them from the rapacity of the patricians; the 202 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. last king had oppressed both orders and the subordi- nate one had been induced to unite in his expulsion by being promised a constitution that should guard their rights. In many subsequent struggles the plebians suc- ceeded in procuring the passage of laws, which, had they been observed, would have given them reasonable pro- tection, but in every case they were trampled under foot or rendered nugatory by patrician perfidy. Finally, after a ten year's struggle, they had obtained an excel- lent code of laws, to whose protection they, as well as the patricians, were entitled, had surrendered their own special magistracy their own separate existence as it were that the Romans might be one people and had elected one which they supposed could be trusted. But this panacea for all their ills had turned to ashes on their lips. Their old enemies had seduced the magis- trates ; the most sacred of laws was trampled under foot ; they could no longer look to the Tribunes for protec- tion, and they seemed more helpless than ever. While the remembrance of these things inspired only despair of justice at home it also nerved their will and turned even their patriotism into hate. "Why," exclaimed they, "should we longer hold connection with an order bound by no oaths, subject to no laws, bent only upon monop- oly and oppression? We form the great body of the army, without the solid cohorts composed of the peas- ant freeholders of Rome it would be weak and worth- less why not march out, carry with us our little move- ables, but especially our newly won laws, and establish a new Rome? Why not leave the lawless patricians with their clients and slaves to defend territory which they insist on monopolizing- and to pursue alone their career of conquest." Thus reasoned the commons, and they again determined to leave the city. "Ho for the LECTURE OF PROF. BLISS. 203 sacred mount!" was shouted from the hills and rang through the plebian quarters, and the legions again marched down the Aventine, through the Velabrum, up the valley, crossing the forum, threading the Subura, passing up to the plain behind the Quirinal and Vimi- nal hills and out through the Colline gate. They were followed by their families and such of their order as could leave, and the whole proceeded to occupy the sa- cred mount just beyond the Anio. The pomerium of a new city was traced and the walls began to rise. The Senate, seeing the seceders in earnest, took the alarm. Whatever the fate of the new city, the old would cer- tainly be ruined. Mons Sacra was within the Roman territory, the seceders were the stronger of the two par- ties, they would not be likely to surrender their holdings owtside the city walls or to permit their enemies to con- tinue to hold the common territory of the Republic. A delegation was at once sent to the sacred mount to learn what was demanded. The messengers were Horatius and Valerius, to whom alone, as before announced, would the commons listen. Their absolute demands were very moderate: First, the restoration of the Tri- bunate; second, the right of appeal to the Centuries or Tribes from the criminal judgments of the patrician magistrates; third, that the Decemvirs be given up to be burned with fire, and fourth, amnesty. These were the ultimatum, although it is probable that the messen- gers were given to understand that the commons would demand in a regular way new constitutional concessions substantially like those embraced in what were shortly known as the Licinian Laws. They were induced to forego their demand for the blood of the Decemvirs and, as a pledge that the others should be complied with, possession of the Capitoline Hill, embracing not only 204: UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. the citadel but the sacra of the state, was to be surren- dered to them. On the return of the commissioners the Senate was but too glad to accept the proffered condi- tions, directed the Decemvirs to abdicate, which was done, and the commons returned, took possession of the Capitol, and, if they had ever wholly given it up, reoc- cupied their own Aventine, and elected their Tribunes. In this connection, to make the story of Virginia complete, I may be permitted to speak of the fate of Appius, although it was not met until after the adoption of the Licinian constitution, which was next in the order of time. Although the leaders of the seceders had waived their demand that the Decemvirs be outlawed, it is not to be supposed that any idea was entertained of exempt- ing Appius Claudius from responsibility for his crime. Under our system, a judge cannot be held responsible by a civil or criminal proceeding for errors, even though malicious ones, committed in discharging the duties of his office, and impeachment only removes him from office, although in England it may have a much more serious result. The Tribunes were empowered to impeach before their own constituents, ,the plebian tribes, any patrician, although a Consul or Senator, who should violate the laws enacted for the special protection of the commons or their officers, and under this power, dis- tinguished citizens like Coriolanus, and Keso Quinctius, the son of Cincinnatus, had been driven into exile. The tribunate is now restored and Virginius and Icilius are two of the Tribunes. It is too much to expect that they could forget the recent outrage upon the law under which the former felt compelled to take the life of a. dear daughter in order to protect her from the ruffianly arms of a judge whom the law made her shield and pro- LECTURE OF PROF. BLI?S. 205 lector. Appius the tyrant is impeached by Virginius his victim. Instead of quietly submitting to his fate, or perhaps avoiding it by a modest bearing, he accelerated it by appearing in the Forum surrounded by his patri- cian bravos, as if to overawe the tribune. The first ques- tion in all cases of arrest is that of bail. Most offences were then, as they are now, bailable. Ordinarily, then as now, capital offenses were not. For a magistrate during a trial to wilfully violate a plain law involving life or liberty, was, especially under impeachment, a capital offense. Virginius therefore ruled that an issue should be made up, to be tried before a judex as a pre- liminary question, whether Appius "had not in a ques- tion of personal freedom, assumed that the presumption was in favor of slavery, in having adjudged Virginia to be regarded as a slave till she was proved free, instead of regarding her as entitled to her freedom till she was proved a slave." He of course could not meet this issue and pending his trial was ordered to the terrible Ma- mertine prison. Before being committed his uncle, not only a very respectable citizen, but an opponent of the mad schemes of his nephew, appeared and besought the Tribunes to accept bail. It would be a disgrace to Rome said he to throw into the dungeon with burglars and robbers, one who had been chief magistrate of the city, but they all sternly refused. The prison into which he was cast was built near the Forum by king Servius Tullius, and its lower vaults are as gloomy and solid to-day as they were twenty-five hundred years ago. Appius never came out. Before the day of trial he was found dead and it was reported that in dispair of the result, he had taken his own life. Oppius was also thrown into prison and shared the same fate. Marcus Claudius, the tool of Appius, and the rest of the Decem- 206 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. virs were suffered to go into exile, and thus in the lan- guage of Livy, ''The shade of Virginia, more fortunate after death than when living-, after having roamed through so many families in quest of vengeance, at length rested in peace satisfied that all the guilty were punished." And we may well believe that this stern retribution not only gave rest to the ghost of the fair maiden, but that fathers and mothers felt safer in Rome from the outcome of this conspiracy against the honor of the family of Virginius. LIBRA KY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. LINGUISTIC CURIOSITIES. CORRECTIONS. " Plebians" read Plehaeans," passim. " Terrentelius " read " Terrentilius," passim. "jus nature" page 186, line 15, read j tis naturale," and in next line insert "citizens of " before Rome." "The legion rose as one man," on page 20., lines 3 and 4, read " The body of the legion rose." "ultimatum" page 203, 8th line from bottom, read mata. ulti was" page 187, line 9, read "were.' 1 U 1 1 n M ll.llldl iSSOR :Y OF .ciples show r olved ey iis ivated pacity i legs, ndow- some- jistant here, call a halt. Could they have proceeded one step father, and made the animal talk, or utter so much as a single word, they might have claimed a grand victory for themselves and the monkey ; but the monkey held his peace, and the scientists perceived that, leaving the spark of im- mortality out of the question, the beast was of an entire- ly different family; that between him and themselves there was a great gulf fixed; that they could neither pass to him nor he to them. Darwin, and Huxley, and 206 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. virs were suffered to go into exile, and thus in the lan- guage of Livy, pt The shade of Virginia, more fortunate after death than when living, after having roamed through so many families in quest of vengeance, at length rested in peace .satisfied that all the guilty were punished." And we may well believe that this stern retribution not only gave rest to the ghost of the fair maiden, but that fathers and mothers felt safer in Rome from the outcome of this conspiracy against the honor of tHp fnmJUr ^ v: :~:~~ I, I B K A li Y UNI v KKS.IT v LINGUISTIC CURIOSITIES. BY DAVID R. MCANALI.Y, JR., A. M., PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI. With a zeal worthy of a better cause, the disciples of Darwin have labored long and earnestly to show how a scientist of the modern school may be evolved from a lower order of animal. Taking a monkey as raw material, they have driven back his jaw, elevated his nose, broadened his forehead, enlarged the capacity of his skull, shortened his arms, lengthened his legs, turned his first finger over to represent a thumb, endow- ed him with one faculty akin to reason, a second some- thing like memory, the idea of property, and a distant conception of the notion of right and wrong; but here, unfortunately for themselves, they were forced to call a halt. Could they have proceeded one step father, and made the animal talk, or utter so much as a single word, they might have claimed a grand victory for themselves and the monkey ; but the monkey held his peace, and the scientists perceived that, leaving the spark of im- mortality out of the question, the beast was of an entire- ly different family; that between him and themselves there was a great gulf fixed; that they could neither pass to him nor he to them. Darwin, and Huxley, and 208 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. their like, have made interesting' discoveries in. natural history, but the investigations of many a long lifetime, given up to experimenting and speculating, have un- earthed no more curious fact than the one known from the beginning that language belongs to man alone. Commonplace as the idea has become, through millions of repetitions, it is yet worthy of careful consideration; and, beyond all question, the closer the examination of it, the more curious will it appear. From the savage bushman of the South African plains, whose vocal clicks sounded so much like a combination of the sylla- ble "hot" with "tot" that. more civilized men called him a "Hottentot," to the Parisian of to-day, who derives the name of his race and country from the most gener- ous people known in history; from the Digger Indian to the occupant of an English palace; from Peter, the wild boy, to Shakspeare, the possession of language unites, as with an iron band, the human race in one vast family. Existing before society, without it society would be an impossibility; and a band of men would have no more permanent bond of union than would a lierd of cattle, or a school of porpoises. It enables the merchant to get lawful gain, the miser to accumulate unlawful gold; it helps the farmer to sow his wheat, and the miller to grind his grain; it is the doctor's chief as- sistant, and the lawyer's reliance. Without it, our fel- lowmen could not care for our bodies, nor our clergy- men for our souls. "Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the similitude of God." It is a perfectly natural consequence, therefore, of the universality of language among men, that it should constitute a sure index to character. A great diplomat- .ist of the past has had the credit of saying, "Language LECTURE OF PROF. MCA K ALLY. 20* was given us to conceal rather than to reveal our thoughts," but he belied his own words. There is a wide difference between being deceitful and indicating charac- ter by unguarded utterances. Many deceive others, and even themselves, by saying what they do not mean ; but the manner, the tone, the general characteristics of the utterance, far more than the matter, furnish a criterion so infallible that no one, save by his own fault, need be deceived or mistaken. The man who carefully weigh* every word before he utters it, who considers its purity, its adaptation to the case before him, and its application in the conveyance of the idea he wishes to express, is, as a rule, a man of order, of system, whose acts will be the subjects of such deliberation that, with him, an error in conduct will be extremely improbable. On the other hand, the heedless, incautious, careless fellow, constantly saying ten times as much as he means, and meaning ten time as much as he feels, the Alfred Jingle of society, jumping from one subject to another, as capricious a* the mountain goat, from which this adjective takes its name, is a man really deserving of pity. He uses millions of words laboriously to say nothing, and though possessed of two ears, two eyes, two hands, and but one tongue, persists in violating the law of nature by talking more than twice as much as he hears, observes, or performs. Passing by a natural gradation from the individual to the aggregation of individuals in a nation, we find the same general index of character in a nation's lan- guage as in that of an individual. The modern Italian is smooth, flowing in an even stream, without the ripple of a single disturbing consonant; the natural language of lyric poetry and of the opera, and did we not know 210 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. the fact, we might, from the language, infer that the nation using this tongue is a nation of opera singers. French, the language of polite conversation, is another illustration of the general statement that national lan- guage is a reflex of national character; while German, the language of speculation and philosophy, and Eng- lish, the language of science and business, are, perhaps, unneeded examples. The statement has been made that the national salutation furnishes a key to the national peculiarities of character, and there really seems to be some ground for the assertion. The Span- iard, haughty, proud of his nationality, independent, car- ing for nobody but himself, enquires: Come sta? "How do you stand?" Erect, unbending, he stands for himself, and hopes you do the same. The French, little Monsieur and Madame, arc carrying themselves here, there, and everywhere, in an effort to find some- thing n. j w, or to extract a little more amusement from something old. They imagine that you must do the like, and consequently ask: '"''Comment vous portez-vous ?" "How do you carry yourself?" as if carrying one's self about was the chief end of man. One German asks: " Wie befnden sie sick?" "How do you find yourself?" since he likes to find himself without much hunting; while another enquires," Wie gehts ?" "How goes it?" as being perfectly satisfied to let it go if it wanted to, since it makes no difference to him. The English, "How are you?" is solid and substantial, while the American, "How do you do?" is strongly indicative of tbe driving, bustling character of our people, who are content neither with standing, sitting, carrying them- selves, finding themselves, nor letting it go; but must, as one of their representative men has said, "be up and doing, wi-th a heart for any fate." L.ECTURE OF PROF. MCANALL.Y. 211 The learned and pious Dr. Richard Trench has taken so much pains to discover the hidden property of words, has forced so many of them to stand and deliver their concealed goods, has burrowed into so many out- of-the-way nooks and corners of the English language, and dragged thence into the light so many illustrations of the principles he laid down, that, in spite of his occa- sional flights of imagination, and of his proneness to see a little more poetry in the history of a word than is visible to the average eye, his works must long remain standard. From him we have the idea that language is "fossil poetry;" that some words are themselves store- houses of poetic thought and fancy ; that, however trite they may now appear to us, by reason of constant use, they once were triumphs of lovely imagery, and per- chance displayed more of the spirit of the muses than many a labored production in iambics or hexameters. Take, for example, the illustration he gives of the word "sierra," originally meaning a saw. The application of the term to the irregularly jagged ranges of Spain shows a poetic fervor of high grade. As Trench fur- ther remarks, "For us, very often, the poetry of words has in great part, or altogether, disappeared. But had it not existed, Margaret had not been for us 'the pearl,' nor Esther, 'the star,' nor Susannah, 'the lily,' nor Stephen, 'the crown.' ' So soon, howftver, as we enter the fairy region of word-poetry, examples multiply so rapidly as to defy mention or enumeration. From the mass, two may be selected, not as samples, but by reason of their pre-eminently illustrating the fact that there really may be poetry in a name. The one is "topaz," so called, according to Pliny, from the Greek word topa- zein, to guess or conjecture, because men were able only to conjecture the geographical position of the mysteri- 212 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. ous, cloud-covered island on which the jewel was sup- posed to be found; the other is "carbuncle," from "car- bunculus? a "little, burning coal." None but a man of lively, poetic imagination could ever have applied such names to these jewels, and the continuance of their use and correct understanding of their signification gives an additional attraction even to the beautiful gems they designate. Upon entering the realm of the beautiful, as repre- sented by flowers, the poetry becomes more plainly manifest. An old Persian poet, having his claim to the title of bard questioned, declared: "I love God, flowers and little children," and considered that he had fully es- tablished his right. Certain it is, that poetry and flowers are always mentally associated, and it is not, therefore, strange that the beautiful imagery of the one should be found in almost every name given to plants. Take, for instance, the beautiful name, arbor vitce, "thq tree of life," and how naturally and poetically it is ap- propriated to that shrub, which, in winter snows, and under circumstances of much adversity, still presents to our view a cheerful green. "The catch-fly," "the fly- trap," the "snap-dragon," the "snowball," the "love-in-a- mist," the "love-lies-bleeding," the "trumpet-flower," and the "Venus'-looking-glass," are but further illustra- tions of the poetry to be found in the names of flowers; and the list may be indefinitely extended by any one who cares to refer to a floral dictionary. The "sun- flower" and the "daisy" furnish a curious example. The former is so named from the fact that its yellow center is supposed to bear an imaginary resemblance to the sun, and the white border to the corona or glory surrounding that luminary. The daisy is named from the same gen- eral resemblance, but as Chaucer gives it, the name is LECTURE OF PROF. MC AN ALLY. 213 much more poetical. He calls it the "day's eye," or the "eye of day." "That well by reason it men callen ma/ The daisie, or else the 'eye of day.' " And it cannot be denied that, in a poetic way, we gain much by this designation. Leaving flowers for more practical affairs, it will not be questioned that the German who first conceived the glove to be a shoe for the hand, a hand-schuh, while he who imagined a thimble to be a hat for the finger, a jinger-hut, might, in point of imagination, have put to the blush many an aspiring poet. With regard to the hand-schuh) while it may not be difficult to recognize the fitness of the term, all difficulty of every character will instantly vanish when we recognize that the authorities tell us that the first gloves worn in the north of Europe were simply bags, into which the hands were thrust for the purpose of warmth. The addition of a thumb in the present mitten fashion was regarded as a wonderful innovation, while the separate compart- ments for the fingers were of comparatively modern in- vention. Thus the old bag-glove bore a more decided resemblance to the covering for the foot than might at first be supposed. With regard to the morality of words, Trench is essentially a pessimist, and consequently takes the worst view of humanity, as illustrated by language, that he can persuade his conscience to allow. While, however, the reader may not be disposed to accept in full the con- clusions of Trench, it cannot be denied that, to no in- considerable extent, man has degraded his language with himself, or, to speak more properly, certain classes or conditions of men have so uniformly demonstrated their low standard of morality, that the name of the 214 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. class has long been applied to designate individuals who, in a greater or less degree, possessed the predominant quality of the class. Thus, a "knave" was once a boy; then a boy-servant, then a scoundrel, and a curious com- mentary on the universality of roguery among boy-ser- vants might be written in tracing the gradual change in the history of this well-known word. A "boor" was once a farmer, and not an ill-mannered man; a "villain" once a peasant, and not a cut-throat; a "varlet" was a servant, and not a rascal; a "time-server" was an honor- able man, and not a disgusting truckler; "tinsel" was formerly made of pure gold; "voluble" was a compli- mentary expression, and not a term of reproach; "preju- dice" was a previously-formed opinion, whether good or bad; a "black-guard" was simply a scullion; an "idiot" was not a natural fool, but, as Jeremy Taylor uses the word, a private citizen as opposed to an office-holder. The word "heathen," now used to designate a worshiper of idols, shows a curious bit of linguistic history. It was formerly applied solely to the dwellers on the Ger- man heaths, and as these were uncultured people, and among the last to adopt the doctrines and practice of Christianity, the people of the latter creed came little by little to consider the name of a heath-dweller as synonymous with that of an unbeliever, and to lose the original application of the word required then but little time. In an invaluable note at the end of the twenty- first chapter of his "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," Gibbon gives a somewhat analogous case with regard to the word "Pagan." Pagus originally meant a "fountain," and by easy stages the word and its suc- cessors came to designate the village built near or around a fountain, next any village, and finally the inhabitants. The fountains were supposed to be under the special LECTURE OF PROF. MO AN ALLY. 215 care of some goddess or nymph, and the people of the neighborhood were, as a rule, so tenacious of their local worship, and so reluctant to adopt Christianity, that the word Pagani, or "villagers," passed through all the changes already detailed in the case of the word "heathen." Gibbon says the first official use of the word in the sense of "unbeliever," is found in an edict of Val- entinian, in the year A. D. 365, and from that time the secondary signification of the word has been most common. It will hardly do to pass unnoticed a class of words and expressions formerly of serious meaning, but which, by some change of circumstances 'or ideas, have come to be regarded as having something of the ridiculous about them, and consequently are no longer used, save with a droll signification. The word "pate" once stood in a serious sense for "head," and is so used in the seventh Psalm; while WyclifFe, in his translation of the Bible, uses "sconce," "nowl," and "noddle," in the same way. "To punch," "to thump," "to wag," and "to buzz," now coiuidejred verbal tramps, out at elbows and down at heel, were formerly in good standing in religious society, and had nothing of the ridiculous about them. WyclifFe translated Acts XIV, 14: "Paul and Barnabas rent their clothes and skipped out among the people;" while Miles Coverdale rendered a passage in Canticles: "My beloved cometh hopping upon the mountain;" and in another place, assured us that "the Lord trounced Sisera and all his host." Tyndale spoke of a "sight of angels;" while the phrases, "through thick and thin," from Spen- ser, "cheek by jowl," from Sylvester, and "hand over head," from Bacon, have served their time on the seri- ous stage and now do duty as clowns. "In doleful dumps," "in the wrong box," "gone to pot," and many 216 UNIYERSITY OF MISSOUKI. other phrases had formerly nothing of the ludicrous about them ; and, with the examples already cited, are illustrations of the melancholy fact that the disposition of the average man is to belittle and drag down to his own level everything above him. Were heroes the rule, this would not be so; but unfortunately, in this work-a-day world, as Shakespeare calls it, the unheroic prevails to an extent that prevents a full recognition of the heroism that really exists. The next curiosity worthy of note, is the remarka- ble slowness with which, under ordinary circumstances, changes in language are effected. This is a point noticed by all the authorities. It matters not whether the change be in regard to the orthography, the pronuncia- tion, or the grammatical forms of the language, the principle is the same, and the statement holds good. It is usually extremely difficult to convince any one that such changes are going on during his own lifetime, but there is no sort of doubt of the fact. . Ten lifetimes will more than cover the five hundred years between us and Chaucer, and what a remarkable difference between the English of his day and that of our own. Twenty life- times will take us back to Alfred the Great, and yet his language bore a closer resemblance to German than to English, and all the change necessary to bring it to its present condition must have been effected during those lifetimes. The truth is, nothing is slower, more insidi- ous, or less noticed in its action, than the change that is constantly going on in a language. One generation of men passes away ; another generation comes, and each man, with all the earnestness of conviction, believes that he speaks the language of his ancestors; when, in fact, he docs nothing of the kind. He does not speak, even, the language of his youth, much less that of his father's LEOTUBK OF PROF. MOANALfcY. 217 youth; for in his own mouth, and without his knowl- edge, the change is being effected. The pronunciation of words, for instance, is constantly but slowly changed. No one now says greet for great, yet a hundred years ago it was always so pronounced; and Pope invariably rhymes it with such words as replete, complete, and their like. Old men sometimes say obleegcd, and young men smile at the expression'; but in the beginning of this century it was always so pronounced; while key was kay, tea was tay, Rome was Room, and the rhym- ing dictionaries classed "bough," "chough," "plough," "trough," nnd other words of the "ough" formation to- gejher as allowable rhymes. Gold was gould, and Swift is reported to have once enquired : "If I may be so bould, I should like to be tould why you do call it gould?" These are but a few of the numerous ex- amples that might be cited; any one with a little indus- try could easily collect instances by the score. With these changes in pronunciation have come changes in the grammatical form of the language, though, of course, the latter are much more slow to run their course than the variations in spelling and pronun- ciation. The laws that govern the changes mentioned are, for the most part, past our finding out. That there are laws, may be set down as a self-evident fact, and that they will be discovered as soon as the comparative study of language has reached a point where a sufficient number of illustrations have been collected to admit of the deduction of general rules, may also be considered beyond all question; but as yet, most that has been said cm the subject amounts to little more than speculation. A hint that may hereafter prove ot value in this con- nection is this: The general tendency of language is toward abbreviation; and, consequently, all superfluous 218 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. letters, syllables, terminations of nouns, adjectives and verbs, together with all unnecessary forms of expres- sion, are being gradually dropped. This is especially to be observed in the case of silent letters, which, in not a few instances within the recollection of Hvingjmen, have disappeared from the most common words of the lan- guage. Home Tooke expresses the idea very happily by saying, "Letters, like soldiers, are apt to fall off and desert in a long inarch," and the most extensive research has but served to confirm the truth of the statement. The process of change in the other particulars mention- ed is very slow, requiring ages for its consummation, nnd in order to ascertain the full extent of these changes, the language must be compared at periods centuries apart; but that this change has been going on in Eng- lish ever since the time of Chaucer is easily demon- strated. Take for instance, the substantive-adjectives of our language, and to-day comparatively few of them end in en, while formerly this was the regular adjective ending: "Steelen," "floweren," "rocken," "rosen," "stonen," and hundreds of others may be cited as ex- amples. The tendency to abbreviation is now leading to the substitution of "gold" for "golden," .."silver" for "silvern," "brass" for "brazen," and so on, ad libitum. En used to be the common ending for verbs, and in "lengthen." "strengthen," "broaden," "deepen," and a few more, the termination is still retained, but those which have lost the en are thousands, while those which have retained it are but tens. The plural of nouns was also once formed in en, but at present "oxen," "chicken," "kine," (kien,) "brethren" and "children" almost ex- haust the list. The writers on the subject predict, with some apparent confidence, that the apostrophe and letter $, which indicate the possessive case, must go next; and LECTURE OF PROF. MCANALLY. 219 urge, in proof, that to denote possession, the objective construction with of is becoming much more frequent, and its additional clearness gives it an advantage not to be despised. Illustrations of the fact that linguistic changes of some consequence have occasionally taken place in com- jratively brief periods of time are furnished by several historical circumstances of undoubted authenticity. The most curious of these is probably the well-known story of the "Refugee French." After the revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV, in 1685, large numbers of Huguenots fled from their native country, and taking refuge in the cities of Holland and England formed colonies, the members of which associated almost alto- gether with each other, and by means of agents carried on the purchase of material they needed and the sale of the products they manufactured in their special lines of trade. They thus, in many cases, almost isolated them- selves from their surroundings, and persisted in speaking the French language. This state of things continued for two or three generations, when it was discovered that while the French language at home had undergone material change, the French of these refugees remained in statu quo, with the exception of an occasional and ac- cidental foreign word. Its growth had ceased, while the growth of the language at home had continued, and when some of these refugee people went home a century later, their pronunciation and grammatical con- structions were as antiquated as would be for us the English of a hundred years ago. Another fair illustra- tion is furnished by the history of a pnrty of Germans from a minor state of the confederation, who settled in a mountain valley of Pennsylvania before the American Revolution, and during that war and the wars of the 32 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. French Directory remained without intercourse with their German friends in Europe. So remarkable was the result of this comparatively brief isolation that, when Prince Bernhard of Saxe-Weimer, while on a tour through this country about 1825, visited the settle- ment, though he found German still spoken, the pro- nunciation and dialect were of a previous age. It was German, but the German of his fathers that had remain- ed unchanged which was the language of these settlers. A remarkable instance of the slowness with which a language undergoes any changes, save those which originate in its own vitality, is furnished by the Polish. Ever since the partition of Poland by Russia, Prussia and Austria, in 1764, the attempt to suppress the lan- guage of the unfortunate Poles has been going on in that portion of the country which fell to the lot of Rus- sia, and, in spite of the fact that every means has been resorted to by the barbarous conquerors of the unhappy nation, Polish is still spoken, and allowing a small mar- gin for natural change, with substantially the same ac- cent, pronunciation and grammatical forms, as when Warsaw still held out against the armies of the three robber nations. We need not, however, . an example of the reluctance of a language to yield to- foreign pressure. The history of our own tongue fur- nishes a parallel case. The long reign of Edward the Confessor, from 1042 to 1065, by its introduction of French manners and customs, and Norman influences generally, prepared the way for the Norman conquest; but when William came the English people were, by no means, ready for the consequences of his accession. The Seven Years' war which followed the apparent calm, after the great battle of Hastings had been fought and IjECTCTRE OP PROF. MCANAJjljY. 221 lost, completely broke down the spirit of the Anglo- Saxons. Their king had been killed, their noblemen were either murdered, imprisoned, or banished; their priests and bishops were forced to retire from their liv- ings and sees, and either take refuge in the obscurity of private life, or fly to the continent. The Norman - French became the language of the court, of the camp, of the cloister, of the bar, of the schools, of the count- ing rooms, of the shops. When an aspiring, ambitious young man 'sought promotion in any walk of life, his first step was to learn French. French priests by the hundred were brought over from the continent, and preaching in Anglo-Saxon was forbidden. Anglo- Saxon could not be taught in the schools, for the foreign masters, usually ecclesiastics, knew nothing of it, and children were required to translate their Latin into French, regardless of their mother tongue. All busi- ness transactions were carried on in French, and if a man desired to avoid being cheated at every turn, his sole protection was a familiarity with the language of the merchants. In spite, however, of the rigid system of persistent tyranny, which for three hundred years sought to force an alien language upon an entire people, the Anglo-Saxon tongue was equal to the emergency, and doggedly held its own. It suffered terribly, and came out of the three-century contest so changed that it could hardly be recognized as the same language that had entered the battle, but for all that, it survived, and in the end overcame all opposition. The whole case is clearly stated by Professor Earle, late professor of An- glo-Saxon in the University of Oxford. "Great and speedy," he says, "must have been the effect of the Nor- man conquest in ruining the ancient grammar. The leading men in the state, having no interest in the ver- 222 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. nacular, its cultivation fell immediately into neglect. The chief of the Anglo-Saxon clergy deposed or re- moved, who should now keep up that supply of Anglo- Saxon religious literature, of the copiousness of which we may judge even in our day by the considerable re- mains that have outlived hostility and neglect? Now that the Saxon land owners were dispossessed, who should patronize the Saxon bard, or welcome the man of song in the halls of mirth? The shock of the conquest gave a death-blow to Saxon literature. The English language continued to be 'spoken by the masses who could speak no other, and here and there a secluded stu- dent wrote in it; but its honors and emoluments were gone, and a gloomy period of depression lay before the Saxon language as before the Saxon people. The in- flection system could not live through this trying period. Just as we accumulate superfluities about us in prosperi- ty, but in adversity get rid of them as incumbrances, and we like to travel light when we have our own legs to carry us, just so it happened to the English language. All the sounding terminations that made so handsome a figure in Saxon courts, superfluous as bells on idle horses, were laid aside when the nation had lost its own political life and its pride of nationality, and had received leaders and teachers who spoke a strange tongue." Before leaving this branch of the subject, it is note- worthy that one of the most potent agencies in the in- jury of Anglo-Saxon was the system of abbreviation adopted by the Normans when they were forced to use it, in their intercourse with their new serfs. The niceties of the language were utterly disregarded, and every- thing superfluous in speech and expression was ruthless- ly cut away. The grammar suffered, as also did the vocabulary, so much so that of some classes of words LECTURE OF PROF. MCANAT.LY. 223 not a single representative survives. In regard to this general subject, the authorities have always been divided as to the question whether the English language gained or lost by the admixture of Norman. When doctors disagree with as much vim as in this case, the expression of an opinion is a delicate matter, but a careful examina- tion of the evidence on both sides will probably satisfy an unprejudiced mind, that the loss is fully balanced by the gain. Inflections were done away with, but philolo- gists are gradually coming to the conclusion that this loss is for the better, while the vast influx of new words and forms of expression has certainly rendered the lan- guage a service which cannot be too highly estimated. The next point of curious interest with regard to language, is the manner in which linguistic changes of more gradual character than those already mentioned are effected. There appears to be with words, as with animals, a constant process of what Darwin would call "natural selection," going on, by which the weaker are driven to the wall and die, and the stronger part the property of their late companions among themselves, and thus still more augment their strength. The laws which govern changes of this kind are inscrutible, but the changes, nevertheless, take place, and speak for themselves. With regard to losses of this kind, Trench is very explicit. He says: "We hardly realize to our- selves the immense losses which we have suffered, till we lake the extinct words of some single formation, and seek to make as complete a list of these as possible. Then, indeed, we perceive that they are thick as leaves in Vallambrosa." This point he proceeds to illustrate by giving a long list of words ending in full which have at different times been used by the best English writers and speakers, but are now pronounced obsolete. 224 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. It is, of course, out of the question to make extended reference to a list of this kind, or to extract from it; but the most casual examination oi the work of Trench in this department, will satisfy any one of the immense ap- parent loss that the English has, in this respect, sus- tained. The loss may 'be only apparent, buj it is none the less conspicuous. In regard to this "natural selec- tion" of words, Dwight, in his "Modern Philology," says: "Great, silent, yet determinative laws of criti- cism, and so, of general acceptance or condemnation, are ever at work upon words, deciding their position among mankind at large, as if before a court without any appeal. Their action is certain, though indefinable to our vision, like the seemingly blind laws of the weather; which yet' however multiplied in their sources or subtle in their action, rule infallably, not only the questions of human labor and of human harvests, but also, to a great extent, those of human health, power and enjoyment." Thus does Dwight look at the matter; but it may be observed that since he wrote, the laws of the weather have, one by one, been slowly yet surely deduced from millions of observations made in every part of the \vorld by thousands of skilled scientific men. Thus, in time, we may expect that the laws in obedience to which lan- guage changes, shall be discovered and laid down with as much accuracy. Language does not change by chance or haphazard. No matter how far-caprice may influence the actions of an individual, it cannot control the movements of a community or nation in matters in- volving the habits of a lifetime. Occasionally the change may be easily accounted for, as in the cases already given; at other times the reason lies beyond our reach, because we have not yet sufficient data to justify the de- LECTURE OF PROF. MCANALIiY. 225 duction of any principle. Once in a while the extinction of an art, science, 'or amusement, has caused the death of most or all the words and terms connected with it. The practice of bear-baiting, as a popular sport, has long since gone out of fashion, and, as a consequence, scores of terms used by the bear-fighters have dropped from the language and disappeared. Hawking, as an amuse- ment, was abandoned long ago, and a book of "Hawking Instructions," or rules for taming and controlling falcons is consequently untranslatable; so many of the expres- sions have passed entirely from use that no signification whatever can be attached to them. These are but two out of many illustrations that might be cited. The common-sense view of the whole matter seems to be, that when men do not need a word they cease to use it, and the word dies. This is illustrated in the cases just given. When hawking no longer existed as a sport, men had no need of designating by words things which had no existence, and therefore the names themselves became extinct and passed from the vocabulary of the language. What proportion of words first used in a technical, and afterwards in a more general or secondary sense, survived the death of their accompanying objects, we have, of course, no means of knowing, but the num- ber must be by no means small. A. single illustration may suffice. There is, probably, no belief so utterly dead as that in the so-called science of astrology; but "mercurial," and "jovial," and "saturine," and "moon- struck," still offer themselves for our use in describing human character, althcugh their primary signification has been entirely lost; while "influence," and "disaster," "ill-starred," and "ascendancy," are but a few out of the many that survive the would-be science they once helped to explain. Why whole classes of adjectives, such as 226 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. those injfa/, already mentioned, and others in some, why duplicate words and entire families of compounds should yield to the law of nature and die, when there appears no reason that they should not last as long as their neighbors, is not yet determined; but certain it is, that in several of these quarters the English language was formerly rich, and is now comparatively poor. "Might- iul" is as expressive as word as "mighty;" "wordful," as "wordy;" "senseful," as "sensible;" yet in each case the one has been taken, the other left, and the tendency con- stantly is to increase the use, even of such words as "wrathy," in preference to the older "wrathful." Men speak now of a "miser," but, according to Trench, he used also to be called a "gripe," a "huddle," a "smudge," a "clinch," a "micher," a "ptnchpenny," a "penny father," a "nipcheese," a "nipscreed," a "nipfarthing," a "clutch- last," and a "kumbix," besides other terms not sufFerable by ears polite. The cause of the extinction of these names is certainly not to be found in any diminution of the race of misers, and though we at present n.ay be at a loss in what direction to look for a reason, we may feel very certain that there is one, and that it will be discovered. In very marked contrast to this diminution in the number of words of certain classes in the English lan- guage, is the extraordinary power that English has manifested upon occasion of taking in words at whole- sale. Half a dozen times in the history of our language it has shown the appetite of an ostrich, and to its credit be it said, it has succeeded in digesting everything it has managed to swallow. The century beginning with the accession of Elizabeth, in 1559, may be mentioned as one period of remarkable growth. The spirit of enter- prise that then characterized the English nation as a LECTURE OP PROF. MCANALLY. 227 whole, and the sudden rise of the British naval power, together with the acknowledged pre eminence of the English fighting qualities, as illustrated in the defeat of the Armada in 1588, combined to put England to the front of European nations, and the discovery of Ameri- ca and consequent explorations, furnished employment for the boldest spirits. The labors of the hardy Eng- lishmen of that day, whose names are to be found in every school history, introduced a vast number of new words into the language, by the introduction of new ob- jects and ideas into the English life, and this increase was assisted by the English renaissance, which did as much from another point of view as did the foreign ex- plorations and discoveries. In short, to conclude this branch of the subject, it may be affirmed that the intro- duction of an art or science, the establishment of a new manufacture, the inauguration of a novel industry, the publication of a new invention, and even a new way of doing an old thing, are sure to be attended by either the invention or introduction of new words. The terminol- ogy of every science is peculiar to itself, and in the fact that so many of the most common articles of to-day are things of recent discovery or invention, may, perhaps, be found an explanation of the remarkable growth of our language during the last hundred years. The use of labor-saving machines, the invention of the steam- engine, the application of electricity to practical use, and a hundred other adaptations of the forces of nature to the wants of men, have each called into being a host of words and expressions suitably describing the novelties thus presented to the human mind. As a last hint in this direction, it may be observed that on some occasions words are literally forced upon the people, and are used, not because they are the best words, but by dint of their 228 UNIVERSITY OP MISSOURI. constant repetition. An example of this is seen in cer- tain words now creeping into public favor, such as "suicided," "burglarized," and the like. The telegraph companies, by charging by the word for transmission, have caused such abreviations as these in place of the usual phrases: "Committed suicide," or "committed burglary." The only conceivable excuse for these and such as these, is found in the fact that they cost just half as much as their synonyms, but being just as expressive, there is little doubt that they will ultimately be admitted into the language family as legitimate children. The men of learning may protest in the future, as they have protested in the past; the scholars may denounce, the universities may condemn, and the lexicographers may omit, but the people will do as they have done, and use such words as express their ideas with most brevity and accuracy. In the end, such words, no matter how slangy they may at first be deemed, will be received and used by everybody. There was a long controversy over the word its, the possessive of the neuter pronoun, and for a great while the best writers and speakers avoided its use. Bacon and Spencer never used it, and it occurs very seldom in Milton, Shakespeare, and the King James translation of our English Bible, published in 1611; but though the first recorded use of the word was by Florio in 1598, in much less than a century writers were find- ing fault with their opponents for employing "his" or "her" in place of "its." The contest . had, therefore, been previously decided in favor of "its," a result certain to happen in every case when a new word supplies a real want in a language. In truth, as a distinguished writer on this subject has already said, the English lan- guage is like the English institutions, "Just as the char- acter of our governmental regulations is such that LECTURE OF PROP. MCANALLY. 229 strangers and refugees from every land under heaven can come and make their home with us, and forget that they are strangers, so foreign words, singly or in crowds, may come and be received, and become acclimated, and the next generation will be utterly oblivious of the fact that they were ever other than orthodox English." There is another branch of no small interest to the curious, and well deserving careful enquiry. The do- main of proper names is so extensive and so suggestive that to do it justice would require volumes rather than paragraphs. It may be stated that, as a rule, aboriginal proper names are never devoid of meaning, though a change of circumstances has often caused the meaning to be lost. Dr. Isaac Taylor says: "In many cases the original import of local names has faded away, or has become disguised in the lapse of ages; nevertheless, the primeval meaning may be recoverable, and whenever it is recovered, we have gained a symbol that may prove itself full-fraught with instruction, for it may in- dicate emigrations, immigrations, the commingling of races by war and conquest, or by the peaceful processes of commerce; the name of a district or town may speak to us of events which written history has failed to com- memorate. A local name may often be adduced as evi- dence determinative of controversies that otherwise could never be brought to a conclusion. The names of places are conservative of the more archaic forms of a living language, and they often embalm for us the guise and fashion of speech in eras the most remote. These topographical words, which float upon the parlance of successive generations of men, are subject in their course to less phonetic abrasion than the other elements of a people's speech. What has been affirmed by the bota- nist as to the flora of limited districts, may be said, with 230 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. little abatement, concerning local names that they sur- vive the catastrophes which overthrow empires, and that they outlive devastations which are fatal to everything" beside. Invading hosts may trample down and extir- pate whatever grows on a soil, excepting only its wild flowers, and the names of those sites where man has found a home. Seldom is a people utterly exterminated; for the proud conqueror leaves the poor of the land to till the globe anew, and these enslaved outcasts, though they may hand down no memory of the splendid deeds of the nation's heroes, yet retain a most tenacious recol- lection of the names of the hamlets which their own ignoble progenitors inhabited, and near which their fathers were interred." The individual who endeavors to gain an idea of the curious facts ascertainable by a study. of local names, cannot do better than follow the footsteps of Dr. Isaac Taylor, whose admirable work on this subject has never been surpassed, either in extent of research or accuracy of detail. With regard to the tenacity with which local names are retained, he says: "There are many nations which have left no written records, and whose history would be a blank volume, were it not that in the places where they have sojourned they have left traces of their migrations sufficient to enable us to reconstruct the main outline of their history. The hills, the valleys, and the rivers are, in. fact, the only writing tablets on which un- lettered nations have been able to inscribe their annals, and the great advances in ethnological knowledge which have recently taken place are largely due to the deciph- erment of the obscure and time-worn records thus con- served in local names. From them we may also decipher facts that have a bearing on national movements and the history of ancient civilization. With regard, for exam- LECTURE OF PROF. MCANAL&Y. 281 pie, to Saxon England, we may, from local names draw many inferences as to the amount of cultivated land, the state of agriculture, the progress of the arts of construc- tion, and even as to the density of the population and its relative distribution. In the same records we may dis- cover vestiges of local franchises and privileges, and may investigate certain social differences which must have characterized the districts settled respectively by' the Saxons and the Danes; may collect relics of the heathenism of our. fathers, and illustrate the process by which it was gradually effaced through the efforts of Christian teachers." But names may do even more than this. In another place Taylor continues: "Local ap- pellations may either give aid to the philologist, when the aspect of country remains the same, or, on the other hand, where the face of nature has undergone extensive changes; where there were forests that have been cleared, marshes that have been drained, coast lines that "have been advanced seaward, rivers that have extended their deltas or formed new channels, estuaries that have been converted into alluvial soil, lakes that have been silted up, islands that have become gentle inland slopes, surrounded by fertile corn flats in all such cases these pertinacious names have a geological significance; they come into use as a record of a class of events as to which, for the most part, written history is silent. In this manner the names of places become available as the beacon-lights of 'geological history. In truth, there are instances in which local names, conserved in places where little or nothing else that is human has endured; may be adduced as evidence of vast physical mutations^ side by side with the most massive physical vouchers of the changes on our globe." It will be seen from the foregoing liberal extracU 232 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. that the study of local names is capable of throwing light on geography, history both political, civil and mil- itary, archaeology, ethnology, philology and geology. Illustrations of the manner in which the study of each is assisted by a consideration of the proper names in- volved, would be both lengthy and tiresome, but a gen- eral glance at the distribution of the proper names of various nationalities, as illustrating national movements, may not prove altogether unprofitable. It may be set down as preliminary, that whenever the occupation of a country by foreign conquerors was slow and interrupted by long intervals of peace, during which intercourse was carried on between the two warring nations, the old names of localities were preserved in much larger num- bers, and with much less change in form, than when the conquest was rapid and attended by the extermination of the vanquished. It should also be remembered that when two nations, the one barbarous and the other more or less civilized, come in hostile contact, and the former is overrun, the enlightened nation is likely to re-name the centres of population, the towns and cities of the conquered territory, while the native names of natural objects, such as rivers, mountains, and the like, are al- most certain to be adopted by the conquerors. When a barbarous nation strives with and overcomes one par- tially civilized, the points of strategic importance in a military view will be named by the barbarians, while the other names will be very slow to change. So much for explanation; now for illustration. England was first inhabited by a nation of Celts. The Romans invaded and conquered the island, and during an occupation of five centuries founded and named many cities, construct- ed roads, and other works of public utility. The bulk of the nomenclature, therefore, in England became LECTURE OF PROF. Latin; but in spite of so long an occupation, there throughout England proper there still remain names of mountains and rivers which can claim a Celtic origin. Wales and the Scotch Highlands were never conquered by the Romans, and consequentl j, to this day, the local names in these two countries are almost wholly Celtic, while the town names of England, in spite of all the changes the country has undergone, retain not a few traces of their Latin origin. The Anglo-Saxons, as a race, succeeded the Romans, and the curious fact is ob- servable, that while many of the larger cities kept the names given them by the Romans, the villages, where the Saxons mainly established themselves, took on new appellations, Anglo-Saxon in character. But for hun- dreds of years the Saxons were subjected to the periodi- cal inroads of the Danes, and these free-booters of the sea, coming in vessels, were forced to frequent portions of the coast where the harbors were good, and in their inland fonn-s, to travel up rivers for the sake of the as- sistance and protection afforded by their attendant ships, The theory, therefore, would be, that the names in such localities should be Danish; and this theory we find sub- stantiated by the facts in the case. The Norman con- quest introduced feudalism into England, with all the concomitants of chivalry, knights, and castles, and we would, therefore, expect to find that the sites of the in- land castles and fortresses constructed for three hundred years after 1066, would bear Norman-French names. This is exactly the state of fact in the case, and hun- dreds, if not thousands, of illustrations might be cited to demonstrate the truth of the statement. The same gen- eral condition of things exists under similar circum- stances in the south of Europe. Wherever the Saracens or Moors, as they were called, went, they stayed and 234 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. called the cities they occupied or built after their own pleasure. Accordingly, we find that in Spain, the por- tions of the country longest inhabited by the Moors, possess most Arabian names of places; and in the south of Spain , where the Moors made their last stand, there is hardly a genuine Spanish name to be found. The universality of the rule is so well admitted, however, that illustration is almost unnecessary. The point in question is so remarkably well set forth by the history and local names of our own country, that a few illustra- tions may not be judged inappropriate. Everybody knows how the West India Islands, Mexico, Florida, and the most of South America weie settled by the Spanish; how the Mississippi Valley and the region of the great lakes down to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, em- bracing a vast semi-circle of territory, were claimed and partially settled by the French; how the New England colonies were established by one class of Englishmen, Maryland and Virginia by another, and Pennsylvania by a third; how Manhattan Island was settled by the Dutch; and how a solitary Swedish settlement was made near New York. These are historical facts, demon- strated by authentic and reliable documents; but were all written history on the subject lost, it would be quite possible to trace the settlement of the various nations mentioned by the local names still in daily use. But we can do more than this. If we knew nothing whatever of the nations who conquered and possessed the New World, we would still be . able to infer a number of curious facts. We might, for instance, from the remark- able number of saint's names applied to localities in Spanish America, legitimately conclude that the Spanish possessed a romantic valor born of chivalry, and a strongly imaginative religious element in their mental LECTURE OF PROP. MC ANALLY. 285 constitution, enabling them to overcome all obstacles by the help of their guardian saints. The overflowing gratitude of Columbus to the Saviour, who had guided him through so many difficulties and protected him through such a maze of perils, inspired him to name the first land he found after that Savious, and "San Salva-' dor" will therefore go clown into history an eternal me- morinl of the profound piety of the man, while such names as "La Trinidad," "Vera Cruz," "Santa Cruz," and hundreds of others similar in character remain to attest the well known fact that other Spanish explorers were as pious as he. We could also judge of the other extreme of piety manifested by the Puritan settlers in New England, whose "Salem," and "Concord," and '-Providence," remain indubitable witnesses of their faith. We might conjecture the aristocratic spirit of the Southern colonists, whose "Virginia," and "Jamestown," and "Kings County," and "Norfolk," and "Suffolk," and "Cape Charles," and "Cape Henry," tell of a time when colonization was the pet sport of the English sovereigns. So, also, might the "City of Brotherly Love" be sub- prenaed to give testimony to the genuine Quaker spirit; while the numerous aristocratic or royalist names in East Tennessee, such as "Bristol," "New Market," "Knoxville," "London," "Loudon," and others, con- tribute their mite to the explanation of the fact that the tories of Virginia and N 'th Carolina preferred "going West" to taking service in the American ranks during the Revolutionary war. Scattered over the whole coun- try, however, are the beautiful Indian names of rivers and mountains, the "Missouri," and the "Mississippi," the "Tennessee," and the "Alabama," the "Alleghany," and the "Monongahela," the "Ohio," the "Nolichuckee," the "Chattahoochee," the "Chattanooga," and the 236 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. "Apalachicola," all tell their story, and refer us to a time when, step by step, slowly and unwillingly, some- times peaceably and sometimes by force, the Indians re- tired before the axe and the rifle, but tarried long enough to teach the white man the names of the objects most prominent in the physical constitution of the country. In regard to the geological significance of proper names, it might at first seem that nothing is more endur- ing than "the everlasting hills, the vales in quietness be- tween, and old ocean's gray and melancholy waste," but beyond all question, the language of man, in one form or another, has shown itself even more changeless than the face of nature, and strange as it may appear, the geological changes of given districts may often be eluci- dated by a reference to the names of localities in those districts. One or two illustrations must suffice. Taylor says that there is no sort of doubt that the whole valley of the Thames was once an estuary, which, in the last thousand years, has silted up; and this fact is beautifully demonstrated by the name endings of almost every city in the Valley. Ea or ey is a Saxon termination signify- ing island; and Putney, and Osney, and Moulsey, and Whitney, and many others, are cited as showing that the towns so designated formerly occupied island sites. The island of Thanet, where the Angles and Saxons first landed, is now joined to the mainland by broad pas- tures, while the harbor, which formerly sheltered Roman galleys, is now converted into beautiful farms. A better illustration may be found in the North of Italy. The whole plain of the Po is rising with considerable rapid- ity, so that at Modena, the ruins of the Roman city which occupied that site twelve hundred years ago are now found forty feet below the present surface. Ra- venna two thousand years ago was a seaport; it is now LECTURE OP PROF. MCANALLY. 237 two miles inland ; Adria, which, two hundred years be- fore Christ, was the chief port of the Adriatic, and gave its name to the sea, now stands twenty miles from the coast. Other cases, illustrating the longevity of names, may be cited. The "New Forest," established by Wil- liam the Conqueror for the benefit of his game, still claims the title, though an oak here and there is the sole representative of the former dense woods. The "Black Forest" of Argyle has now nothing of the forest but the name, while such local names as "Beverly," "Bever- stone," and "Bevercoates," led philologists to suspect, before geologists ascertained, that the beaver was once as common in England as the deer. In a smaller way, an illustration of the manner in which names continue to be used after all their signifi- cance is lost or has been forgotten, is seen in the name of the now celebrated "Gramercy Square," in New York city. For a long time this name was supposed to be of French origin, and nobody knew what it did mean, 'until, not long ago, some antiquarian, delving among the city archives, unearthed an old Dutch chart, and where this "Gramercy Square" is now situated, there was formerly a long, irregular pond, called by the honest Hollanders Der Kromme Zee the crooked sea and the whole difficulty vanished. Opposite St. Louis, Mo., there was formerly an island known as "Bloody Island," from the number of duels fought there. It has for many years been a part of the Illinois mainland, but it is "Bloody Island" still, and likely to re- main so. Near the southern portion of the same city, there was once an island in the Mississippi called "Dun- can's Island." For nearly twenty years it has been a part of the Missouri shore, and men live over what was once the bed of the stream ; but the limits of "Duncan's 238 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Island" are still as strictly defined as when the Father of Waters surrounded it on every side. An attempt has thus been made to impart some idea of the meaning wrapped up in the husks of the English language. A brief recapitulation of the principal points must now answer for a conclusion. Language in gen- eral is exceeding slow to change, but under some cir- cumstances is capable of swallowing, digesting and as- similating anything that may be offered. It has been shown that language is an index to character so infalli- ble, that the human countenance itself, with all its variety and beauty of change, is not more sure. It has been shown that there is poetry in words as well as in stones, brooks and flowers; and morality in nouns and adjec- tives as well as in men and women. It may be consid- ered settled that the destruction of a national language is an impossibility, and that even the proudest nations of conquerors are forced to enrich their vocabulary with the language of their slaves. The "natural selection" of words has been touched, and the fact elicited, that one word dies and another lives; not by chance, but in obedience to laws as yet little understood. History has demonstrated that a name is more enduring than a mon- ument; that the former will be remembered when the latter has crumbled to powder; that a local appellation will outlive a mountain, and will be on the tongues of men when the valley has become exalted; and that the language of men, changeless, yet ever changing, identi- cal, yet never at any two periods the same, like the river in Horace, flows on, and will so flow on forever. ARNOLD OF RUGBY. BY Miss GRACE C. BIBB, PROFESSOR OF PEDAGOGICS AND DEAN OF THE NORMAL FACULTY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI. "Ail history" says Emerson is a record of the power of minorities, and of minorities of one. Again, "The measure of greatness shall be usefulness in the highest sense greatness consisting in truth, reverence and good will." Tried by this test, Arnold was preeminently great. Born in the true Apostolic succession he was to all with- in the wide sphere of his influence a minister of strength and of comfort, of courage and of consolation. Gov- erned by motives so lofty as to be frequently misunder- stood, he was yet a man of strong practical good sense and rather a worker than a theorist about work. In some points, it is probable, that he would be set down by the latitudinarianism of to-day as intolerant, but if he were intolerant it was of that which he believed to be wrong, and from the same spirit in which the martyrs of old suffered for their convictions. There was in him a gravity that approached sternness and a sense of justice that blazed, sometimes, into indignation, yet withal a tenderness which through all anxieties and cares gave to his life freshness and to his heart power to cherish all holy affections and sweet charities, all pure aspirations. Thomas Arnold, the great head master of Rugby, 240 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. the reformer we may almost say, of education in Eng- land, the typical teacher, was born in the Isle of Wight, June 1 3th, 1795. His father died suddenly before the boy had completed his sixth year, perishing of a disease of the heart which was unfortunately inherited by the son, whose life, in the early maturity of his manhood and in the midst of a happy and most beneficent career, it was destined to destroy. His biographer tells us that as a young child Arnold was under the instruction of his aunt, Miss Delafield, a a lady of wise judgment, affectionate feeling and strong intellect, but that, when still a little fellow of perhaps eight or nine, he was sent to Warminster School and four years later to Winchester, most celebrated for its historical associations. This school owes its foundation to William of Wykeham and perhaps to a taunt. We are told that Wykeham having been spoken of for a bishopric was derided for his lack of scholarship not a very astonishing lack in a man of his time and that he thereupon made answer thus: "I am unworthy, but wherein I am unworthy myself, that will I supply by a brood of more scholars than all^ the prelates of England ever showed." Bishop of Winchester and later Lord Chancellor Wykeham, after numerous vicissitudes, es- tablished his College of St. Mary Winton at Oxford, as a little earlier he had founded his preparatory college and preliminary Grammar School at Winchester, pro- vision being made for the education of seventy boys. "And still his seventy faithful boys in these presumptuous days, Learn the old truth, speak the old words, tread in the ancient ways. *** * * * * * * * * * Still in their Sabbath worship they troop by Wykeham's tomb, Still in the summer twilight sing their old sweet eong of home," LECTURE OF PROF. GRACE C. BIBB. 24J Thus sang Sir Roundell Palmer, himself a Win- chester boy, as quoted in the work, "The Great Schools of England," to which I am indebted for most facts con- .cerning them. There are, indeed, those who trace the foundation pf the school at Winchester, upon whose site the college was erected, to the time of the conversion of Britain to Christianity, saying that here Ethelward, son of the ,great Alfred, received the rudiments of education, and that shortly after .the Conquest the school was well known. However this may be, its undoubted associa- tions are most romantic, and it claims for its own many illustrious names both civil and military. Besides Dr. Arnold himself, it numbers on its bead roll of fame many another hero, bishops and archbishops, as well as poets and prose writers innumerable Young, Collins,. Otway, Somerville, Sir Thomas Browne, Sydney Smith and many another worthy of our literary history. We like to think of the boy Arnold, with his prac- tical yet enthusiastic nature, and his tendency to hero worship, as possessed to some degree of the freedom of Winchester, a town so old that its history goes quite back into Celtic times, the capital alike of the Briton, the Roman and the Norman. Here Alfred held his council; here is still shown what devout believers may accept as the veritable "Round Table" of King Arthur; here Henry II began "a noble palace." It was to Win- chester that Henry VI journeyed to meet his Queen, during this and other visits, bestowing on the college many valuable gifts. Henry VII too visited the plac, and here Henry VIII entertained Charles V. Here Philip and Mary were married and w r ere received at the college. Queen Elizabeth, too, paid the students a visit upon which occasion having asked one of the boya 242 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. for some information with reference to the birch, a rep- resentation of which appeared on the wall above the motto not infrequent in public schools : "Aut disce; aut discede; manet sors tertia caedi? is said to have re- ceived answer thus, the student being fresh from Virgil and the woes of Troy : "Infandum Regina, jubes re- novare dolorem"(*) Residence in a town like this whose every stone had its history, with its old walls, its noble cathedral, its cel- brated schools and its dignified charities, could not fail to impress deeply a nature like that of Arnold; to thit residence is, doubtless, partly traceable his fondness for history and its lessons, as well as his disposition to judge things upon their real merits and men by their real worth uninfluenced by tne popular verdict in respect to either. For Winchester is a town where walls and streets and palaces preach eloquent if voiceless sermons on the vanity of earthly glory and the transitoriness of human fame. Arnold's later attachment to Oxford was deep and fervent; his appointment to the Regins pro- fessorship of History was the realization of the dream of his whole life, and yet always, with the fondness of tenacious memory, his thoughts reverted to the happy and suggestive years of his Winchester residence. In his sixteenth year Arnold was entered at Oxford his college being that of Corpus Christi, which was though small a college of high reputation. Here his mental development was rapid though it is doubtful if his scholarship could ever, with justice, be made the measure of his ability. Since his taste led him into the society of the Greek philosophers and historians rather than into that of the poets, it was difficult to estimate his V*) Great Schools of England. LECTURE OP PROP. GRACE C. BIBB, 243 knowledge by popular standards or to balance it with the college requirements. His stay at Corpus Christ! had, however, a most salutary influence on his intellect- ual life for its methods were admirable. It was noted for the impartiality of its examinations and -for the Uni- versity honors it had gained; it carefully adapted its mode of work to the age of its students and to the de- gree of their mental development, combining individual with class instruction in such a way as to further most effectually intellectual growth. It did not at once throw its students upon their own resources, but very gradually prepared them to assume, relatively, the control of their own education and of their own action. The boys, bright and active in intellect, had the true English courage of their convictions and the time was one of ag- itation in which they naturally sympathized. Dean Stanley, his biographer to whose "Life and Letters of Arnold" we are indebted for most of the facts of his life gives at length a letter from one of his contempara- ries which bears upon his Oxford career; from this let- ter we may be permitted to make the following extract: "We might be, iniaed, were somewhat boyish in manner and In the liberties we took with each other; but our interest in litera- ture, ancient and modern, and in all the stirring matters of that stirring timi -viis not boyish; we debated the classic and ro: nan tic question; we discussed poetry and history, logic and philosophy; or we fought over the Peninsular battles and the continental cam- paigns with the energy of disputants personally concerned in them.'* In all these discussions, it is said, Arnold took an active part. What then or later he believed, he believed with heart and soul as well as ii -.Idled; what seemed to him worth argument seemed, therefore, worth defence against all attack, or worth as vigorous urging where there was hope that its validity might be acknowledged. 844 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Spite of his fondness for history and of his devotion to that most tyrannous "master of them that know," Aris- totle, his mental attitude was always aggressive. He was intolerant of the existing order unless that order were plainly founded in Divine right. A fierce demo- crat and an ardent reformer he believed himself, doubt- less, as is the wont of young and ardent spirits, a verita- ble champion to whom was entrusted the sword of the Lord and of Gideon. The affectionate nature of the boy, the fact that he argued only for truth and that when overborne with reasons he was always ready to ad- mit himself vanquished and to acknowledge the jnstice of the defeat, tempered the asperity of conflict and kept almost undisturbed those fraternal relations with his as- sociates out of which grew some of the strongest and most lasting attachments of his life. I have said that Arnold, at this time, eared little for the poets; then and for a long time afterward, he held tenaciously to the theory that form in literary composi- tion is a matter of so inconsiderable moment as to be unworthy of serious consideration. To him thought was the important, the only important thing. His own Style during his earlier years was, perhaps by reason of this theory, exceedingly uninteresting. Fortunately for those of us who delight in the charm which his elegant pen has thrown about the "History of Rome," his prac- tice at least, was finally very greatly changed. It is possible, indeed, that the beauty of his later style may be due to the admiration, which in despite of his theory, he early manifested for the picturesque narrative of Herodotus, of which author and of Thucydides he was Yery fond. His Oxford training, if it gave him no special reputation for profound scholarship, yet served, admirably, to develop the originality and self-reliance LECTURE OF PKOF. GRACE C. BIBB. 245 out of which, together with his stern integrity and ex* treme conscientiousness, his great influence grew. Alike as boy and man Arnold was delighted by athletic sports and vigorous physical exercise. He had, too, as a native of the Isle of Wight should rightfully have a strong and enduring love for the sea. To his deep and passionate fondness for external nature in her' various forms is no doubt due much of the youthfulnesf of spirit which throughout a life not ignorant of cara and much disturbed by misconstruction and hostile con- troversy, kept his mind open as that of a child, to im- pressions of beauty and caused his heart to throb with new emotion at every instance of heroism or of self-de- votion. No human soul, I imagine, ever more fully realized the depth that is to be found in those well- known line* of Wordsworth: Nature never did betray The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege Through all the years of this one life, to lead From joy to joy; for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneer* of selfish men Nor greeting where no kindness is, nor all The dreary inttrcourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or destroy Our cheerful faith that all which -we behold Is tull of blessing." To his love of nature and to his fondness for ath- letic sports we may perhaps trace that preeminently healthy tone which was a characteristic of Arnold'* mind and out of which so much of his influence over boys, undoubtedly, grew; this healthy and vigorous mental state seems never to have been disturbed except .during a brief period when he was led into seriouf 246 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. doubts on several points of religious belief. These doubts dispelled, his character settled into deep and seri- ous earnestness, which thereafter was its leading charac- teristic and which endowed him with that serenity and patience in effort, as well as that sympathetic knowledge of mental suffering, which gave him such control of the spiritual nature of those, who, in after years, came under his wise instruction. The same friend from whom. I have already quoted, says of his Oxford career: "At the commencement a boy v and at the close retaining, not Ungracefully, much of boyish spirits, frolic and simplicity; in mind vigorous, active, clear-sighted, industrious, and daily accum- ulating and assimilating treasures of knowledge, not adverse to poetry but delighting rather m dialectics, philosophy and history, with less of imaginative than reasoning power ; in argument, bold almost to presumption and vehement, in temper, easily routed to indignation, yet more easily appeased and entirely free from bit- terness; fired, indeed, by what he deemed ungenerous or unjust to others, rather than by any sense of personal wrong; somewhat too little deferential to authority ; yet, without any real inconsis- tency, loving what was good or great in antiquity the more ar- dently and reverently because it was ancient. * * * * *. * * * *. * * * "In heart, if I can speak with confidence of any x>f the friendt of my youth, I can of hi*, that it wa& devout and pure ; simple, ineere, affectionate and faithful." With this character he began his work in the world, that of training young minds to wisdom and vir- tue; in which work over the lives of so many boys, his private pupils first, and afterward the great school-com- munity of Rugby, over the very flower of England's young manhood, he exerted an influence for good so po- tent and so lasting. It is verily a true dictum of Carlyle that "mind grows only by contact with living spirit and that the quality of its growth depends on the quality of the spirit by which it is touched. 1 * LECTURE OP PROF. GRACE O. BIBB. 247 Leaving Oxford as a student Arnold yet lingered in its classic shades for four busy years so loth was he to tear himself from the libraries; to these he devoted long days of thoughtful reading which bore fruit eventually in his general literary work and in his class lectures j, during this time of study and reflection he began, with gome private pupils, that labor which so soon growing into a settled calling demanded his utmost devotion and called out all the enthusiasm of his enthusiastic nature- the work indeed which came to him as to one supremely qualified to perform it. So, I think, to each one of us our life work would come, at one time or at another, could only our eyes be annointed with such power of vision as would enable us to recognize our deeply dis- guised angel of benefaction. About 1819 Arnold settled, as he thought, perma- nently, at Laleham, with his brother's family having been, in the preceding year, ordained as deacon. He was married in 1820 to Mary Penrose, whose brother had for a long time been numbered among his dearest friends. Until his election in 1827 to the head master- ship of Rugby he continued at Laleham his school for the preparation of young men for admission to the uni- versities. His life here seemed in all respects happy and useful, though it could not give scope to all his powers; in his own development it seems to have been a period of transition in which crudities of character disappeared and aims became definite, the whole nature maturing into such a manhood as was afterward to prove the as- sertion of the greatest of the Greek dramatists that " Only in God's garden men may reap True joy and blessing." Arnold had found, as I have already said, while still very young his true office in the ministry of man : for- 248 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. tunate as was this fact for him it was doubly fortunate for his influence in education; he was near enough in age to his pupils to be able actively to sympathize with them in their boyish trials as well as in their amuse- ments, at the same time that his inherent earnestness and devotion to duty together with the external respon- sibilities he had assumed endowed him with a wisdom beyond his years. In his married life he was most happy and the influences of his home were always extended to the boys immediately under his care. Upon this period of his life full of interest though it is, time forbids us to linger, and I will close this epoch with a quotation from one of his own letters written, I believe, during its continuance and expressing some of his views of the nature of the education demanded by our period of civilization : "The difference between a useful education and one whick does not affect the future life, rests mainly on the greater or lest activity with which it is communicated to the pupil's mindj whether he has learned to think, or act, and gain knowledge bjr himself or whether he has merely followed passively as long at there was some one to draw him." A gentleman associated with Arnold in the Lale- ham school, said of it: "Everything about me I at once found to be most real ; it wa* a place where a new comer at once felt that a great and earnest work was going forward. Dr. Arnold's great power as a private tutor resided in this that he gave such an intense earnestness to life. *** * * * * * * "This wonderful power of making all his pupils respect them- selves and of awakening in them a consciousness of the duties that God assigned to them personally and of the consequent re- ward each should have of his labors was one of Arnold's mot characteristic features in the training of youth." I give these long quotations from the letters of Arnold and of his associates, even at the risk of weary- IrKCTURE OF PROF. GRACB*G. BIBB, 24$ ing you, because it is my purpose to give you as com- plete a picture as possible of Arnold tbe man both in his inner spiritual nature and in his external life. From this picture I trust we may all learn, in greater or less de- gree, wisdom, seeing in. it how all potent may be indi- vidual effort and influence, and realizing more than ever before how true it is that, even in this world, "One with God makes a majority.'* This, my main object, can often, I find, best be subserved by extracts from the let? ters contained in Dean Stanley's Life of Arnold, to which work I again acknowledge my indebtedness. Let me now digress from the direct path into which my subject leads, that I may recall at some length the nature of the schools called in England "Public Schools" with one of which the name and fame of Dr. Arnold are now forever identified. He was, as has been intimated, elected head master of Rugby in 1827$ the choice having fallen upon him mainly by rea- son of a letter, submitted to the board having the matter in charge and written bj a gentleman of character and influence, in which after warmly advo- cating the choice of Arnold, then comparatively un- known, he is said to have asserted that such an election would "change the face of education in England." It was generally agreed that, in many important respects, which we need not here dwell upon, a reform was most necessary if these schools were to continue the work of training for the universities, and indeed for life, the youth of England; therefore Arnold was chosen. Rugby is one of the ten great endowed schools of England, popularly known as public schools; they are Eton, Winchester, St. Paul's, Merchant Taylor's, Char- ter House, Christ's Hospital, Shrewsbury, Harrow, Rugby and Westminster. These schools, except so far 250 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. as there may be similarity given by common subjects of instruction bear no resemblance whatever to the public schools of America. They are the training schools for Oxford and Cambridge and their influence is exerted directly upon the boys of the upper and middle classes. Each of them owes its foundation to private endowment and the large revenues which most of them enjoy are due in part to the natural increase in the value of their grants of lands and to judicious investment of the original fund, which has, in most instances, been supplemented by ad- ditional gifts and bequests of those specially interested in their individual prosperity. Rugby owes its existence to the liberality of Law- rence Sheriff a citizen of London, who, about the mid- dle of the sixteenth century, determined to found an almshouse and a school in his native town. A portion of the property designed for the futherance of this worthy object he bestowed during his life time; a sec- ond portion he left by his will, directing in that instru- ment that the school should be thus designated : "The Free Schoole of Lawrence SherifFe of London, Grocer." "The school-master," he directed further, was to be *'a discreete and learned man chosen to teach grammar and if it conveniently may be to be a Master of Arts." An act of Parliament passed in 1777 made it obligatory that the head master shoud be "a Master of Arts of Oxford or Cambridge a Potestant of the Church of England." The assistants number about twenty and are most of them appointed by the head master. The school is also entitled to a chaplain but since the time ol Dr. Arnold, who established the precedent, the chap- laincy has been exercised by the head master, to whom it offers a powerful means of spiritual influence. The chapel was erected in 1814 and contnins five painted LECTURE OF PROF. GRACE C. BIBB. 251 memorial windows, which are much admired, one being in honor of Rugby's Crimean heroes and another to those of its sons who fell in India during the Sepoy Re- bellion. Rugby may well celebrate the fame of her military heroes for they have won glory on every field known to their country's history since the foundation of their Alma Mater, in Africa in the Peninsula, at Wa- terloo, in the Crimea and in India. The wealth of Rugby may be inferred from the fact that that portion of its income set apart for the payment of its instructors amounts annually to the large sum of more than 20,000. The head master, who by the original pro- visions of Lawrence Sheriff's grant, was obliged to sat- isfy his temporal wants upon a stipend of 12 per an- num, now receiving a money salary of $2957 exclusive of a residence, gardeji and some other sources of emolu- ment. As in all the other great schools, so here there are two classes of students, "foundationers," who pay no tuition and for whose benefit the original grant of the founder was made, and "non- foundationers," boys who pay all the expenses of their residence including tuition as well as board. The number of this latter class is much greater than of the former. There is, in this school at least, no difference in the social status of the iwo classes of pupils. The students of the classical de- partment, which is regarded as the most important, are divided into three divisions known from the degree of advancement as the Upper, Middle and Lower schools. There are, besides, schools of mathematics, physics and modern languages, though their place seems subordi- nate. The boys of the classical school are divided into six "forms" ag they are called, "classes" we should say which are for convenience sometimes subdivided into "parallel divisions." The sixth form is the highest* 252 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. No boy is allowed to remain in school after the age of nineteen; no boy above the age of fifteen is admitted, unless qualified to take such place as would of right be- long to his years. Classical instruction occupies seven- teen out of the twenty -two hours of weekly attendance of the Rugby boy upon class instruction. There are two examinations of the entire school during the year, one occurring in June, the other in December; the June examinations of the sixth form being conducted by a committee appointed by the universities. A number oi prizes, some of consieerable value, are offered, and there are elected annually, at an examination, open to all pu- pils who have been in residence three years, five person* as representatives of the school at the universities tq whom pecuniary aid in sums ranging from .40 to 80 per annum is extended. The monitorial sys- tem is much used in the government. The moni- tors, technically known in the school as praeposters, are the boys of the sixth form; they keep order during roll-call, call over the names of students at their respective boarding houses the students arc apportioned as boarders to the houses of the several masters and, bometimesy read the evening prayers. Their badge of office is a light cane, and, they are em- powered to use this cane under certain circumstance, ac- tively in the preservation of order, upon any of the boys below the fifth form who may prove refractory; this punishment is, however, limited to five or six blows across the shoulders, and their attempts at correction generally take the form of the imposition of extra les- ions. Fagging is or at least was, in Dr. Arnold's time, one of the prominent features of the school, resting on the assumption that for the material aid furnished by his junior in the way of doing errands, dusting or making fcKCTURK OF PROP. GRACB C. BIBB. 253- toast, the senior was to return full equivalent in his ca- pacity of mentor. This ideal interchange of equiva- lents, it is unnecessary to say, rarely exists except in theory. Rugby is noted for its games of which foot* ball is the game par excellence-, cricket, too, is a favorite ils is also "hare and hounds." The river Avon which runs past the town furnishes opportunity for bathing and aquatic sports generally. The Rugby boy has two va- tations, amounting in the aggregate to fifteen weeks in the year and is entitled to at least three holidays in each week. The beginning of Dr. Arnold's Rugby career opened wide that door of opportunity, which, indeed, to him who seeks it is never closed. The prevalent feeling that the public schools were falling into certain grievous errors, that as a minor fault they were devoting too much time to the classics and too little to modern languages and science, that as a x'ery serious mistake they were daily divorcing their in- struction more and more from religion, was a conviction- in which he deeply shared and this field of labor which afforded opportunity to set in motion the much needed reform, the enthusiasm of his disposition led him to seize upon with joy. Still he could not help but regret the necessity of leaving his home at Laleham. The surroundings of Rugby were at best commonplace, and little calculated to satisfy his love for the beautiful in nature. To escape from the monotony of its scenery he purchased some time afterward, an estate in the Lake District and beautifully situated, which was to him the Mecca of many a pilgrimage when body and brain and soul cried out for rest. The curious mixture in the mind of Dr. Arnold of conservatism with radicalism made his early attempts at reform in the school, appear chaotic 254 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. and illy considered. Since he was always ready to re- ceive and entertain suggestions as to the means of meet- ing difficulties, his system had a certain external fluidity, if we may use that term, which was, to the casual ob- server, misleading; he had, however, a touchstone for all methods and expedients in the great underlying pur- pose of his administration. His hope was to make of these boys, who represented the next generation of up- holders of the national honor, Christian gentlemen, men who should have such clearness of intellect as to discern the right, such moral cultivation that they would prefer right to wrong from taste as well as conviction, and such courage, that they would be ready to defend what they believed the cause of truth and justice even with their lives. Of course, in a school as large as Rugby, num- bering from two hundred and fifty to three hundred boys, there were many who could not, or would not answer to appeals made from any views of life so seri- ous, and it was the practice of the new head master to remove quietly all whose presence was detrimental to the school at large or who were themselves, for what- ever reason, incapable of being improved. So ready and accurate was his judgment of boyish character that his predictions with reference to the youths under his care were in most instances amply justified. He was accustomed to advise the parents of the boys sent away as to the course most likely, in his view, to prove bene- ficial, the result often proving the justice of his conclu- sions. Expulsion from the school was a last resort in the case of hardened offenders. His plan could not, however, escape misrepresentation and was afterward made the basis of malignant abuse of the Rugby system. In the students of the higher classes especially, it was the desire of the head master to cultivate a strong LECTURE OP PROF. ORACE C. BIBB. 255 sense of responsibility for the general welfare and pro- gress of the school ; this he, however, accomplished as much as possible by indirection and the youth in whom the feeling was strongest was frequently the last to sus- pect the source of the inspiration which had breathed upon and renewed his spiritual life. The author of "School Days at Rugby" illustrates this admirably in the conversation of his hero with one of the masters held on the^eve of "Tom"*s departure, which thus con- cludes : "It was a new light to him to find that besides teaching the Sixth and governing and guiding the whole school, editing clas- sics and writing histories, the great Head Master had found time in those busy years to watch over the career, even of him, Tom Brown and his particular friends, and no doubt of fifty other boys at the same time, and all this without taking the least credit to himself, or eeming to know, or let any one else know, that he ver thought particularly of any boy at all." The direct influence of Arnold was exerted only upon the sixth form, which as I have already said, was the highest, but, since he was extremely careful in the selection of his assistants, and encouraged each to stand as nearly as possible in such relation to the boys under his immediate supervision as he himself stood to the school at large, exerting a similar influence and striving for similar results, his spirit pervaded the atmosphere of the place and gave tone to the entire work. As a teacher in the presence of his class the efforts of Dr. Arnold seem to have been mainly directed to the cultivation in his pupils of self reliance and of intellec- tual integrity; he was skillful in his use of questions and in developing the unknown from the known, in leading the boys to discover for themselves the necessary connection of events and the inter-dependence of facts, in rousing desire to know causes and to express thought U56 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. logically. He worked, as it were, with the boys asking information freely from them on any subject not within his own immediate range, never assuming any special superiority of manner or any profundity of scholarship, but impressing at once by the quiet natural dignity which needed no adventitious support, and by the treasures of knowledge from which he drew that abund- ant illustration which gave to his lectures, particularly in history, so vivid an interest. The chapel services were almost the only occasions afforded him of reaching the entire school; how he exercised this power the author of "School Days at Rugby" himself a Rugby boy and "great part" of that which he describes has told .us in his own graphic way and has dwelt with loving recollections on "The oak pulpit standing out by itself above the school seats. The tall gallant form, the kind- ling eye, the voice now soft as the low notes of a flute, now clear and stirring as the call of the light infantry bugle, of him who stood there Sunday after Sunday witnessing and pleading for his Lord the King of righteousness and love and glory, with whose spirit he was filled, and in whose power he spoke. The long lines of young faces rising tier above tier down the whole length of the chapel," and of the "soft-twilight" which stole over all and deepened "into darkness in the high gallery behind the organ." He has told us too how these boys "listened as all boys in their better moods will listen" and how "wearily and little by little, but surely and steadily, on the whole, was brought home to the young boy for the first time, the meaning of his life; that it was no fooPs or sluggard's paradise into which he had wandered by chance, but a battle field, ordained from of old, where there are no spectators, but the youngest must take his side, and the stakes are life and LECTURE OF PROF. GRACE C. BIBB. 257 death, and "[he who roused this consciousness in them showed them at the same time by every word he spoke in the pulpit and by his whole daily life, how the battle was to be fought and stood there before them their fel- low-soldier and the captain of their band." Thehead-mastership of Arnold continued for four- teen years years not undisturbed by calumny and mis- representation, but yet, full of that deep underlying peace which consciousness of duty well and faithfully performed must bring to heroic souls. The strenuous zeal of Dr. Arnold for what he believed to be the truth, led to a heated controversy with the High Church party which was, indirectly, the cause of most persistent and outrageous personal attack upon him through the me- dium of the press, and although he made no public allu- sion thereto nor noticed the slanders thus set in circula- tion, he could not help but feel unhappiness, especially as he found himself ostracised for his opinions, by many of his former friends. Confident of the justice of his cause he, through all, went on steadily with his work, and as steadily the purity and strength of his character grew into appreciation, until, in the later years of his Rugby residence, he had gained the entire respect and admira- tion of even his former adversaries. In 1841 he was appointed "Regins Professor of Modern History" at the University of Oxford, the com- pliment of his election being greatly enhanced in value by reason of his late controversy with the Oxford party in Church and State. No work could have been more entirely accordant to Dr. Arnold's taste than that which opened before him in this professorship, and he did not hesitate at once to accept it; but as his duties would not require residence he determined to retain, at least for a time, his place at Rugby, devoting the Oxford salary to- 258 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. the foundation of university scholarships. His inaug- ural lecture was delivered in December of the same year, and treated, as we learn from his correspondence, "of the several parts of history generally and their relations to each other and then of the peculiarities of modern history." The occasion was naturally of the greatest in- terest and the audience was very large, their accommoda- tion rendering necessary the opening of the "Theatre." Arnold had, without yielding in any way his con- victions, conquered a triumphant peace, and in the light of her full recognition, whatever might at any time have alienated him from his alma mater faded away, leaving his return to the place he had so long and so deeply loved unclouded by either doubts or regrets. So with thankfulness and joy of heart he entered upon the duties of that office which had from afar brightened be- fore him as the noblest goal of his ambition. Not yet forty-seven years of age, in the full flush and vigor of his manhood; looking back upon patient, strenuous and successful effort in a cause which seemed to him the no- blest to whose defence any man is called ; looking for-- ward to a new epoch in the work of his life in which it should more than ever be his task to call up from their tombs the heroic dead of all time that their examples might mould to something like heroism the age in which he lived, looking forward still beyond to that blessed re- tirement at "Fox How," where, surrounded by his fam- ily, soothed and animated by the natural beauty of all the local associations he might pass in peaceful literary la- bors the evening of his days, he seemed of the fortu- nate most fortunate. Surely auspicious deities beckoned him onward, holding out to him the gift of happy days or whatever gift greater than happy days they offer to mortals. Cicero, in that one of his Tusculan LECTURE OF PROF. GRACE C. BIBB. 259 Disputations written "On the Contempt of Death" quotes two well known stories told by the Greeks, the one of Cleobis and Biton, sons of the Argive priest- ess, the other of Trophonius and Agamedes. The priestess mother of the youths "is said to have entreated the goddess to bestow on them as a reward for their filial piety, the greatest gift that a god could confer on man, and the young men, having feasted with their mother, fell asleep; and in the morning they were found dead." Trophonius and Agamedes made a similar re- quest "for they having built a temple to Apollo at Del- phi offered supplications . to the God * * * asking for whatever was best for men. Accordingly Apollo signi- fied to them that he would bestow it on them in three days, and on the third day at daybreak they were found dead." Was it the best gift of the gods to Arnold of Rugby that he too, when most the favorite of fortune, when most entitled to claim the future as his own, should also, in the old heathen phrase, u at daybreak" have been "found dead ?" It was on the morning of Sunday, June I2th, 1842; the preceding Saturday had closed the year at Rugby; in all the attendant exercises the head master had taken his usual lively interest in the school speeches, in the visit of the board of examiners, in the work of the fifth form. He had distributed the prizes and preach- ed the final sermon; he had closed his New Testament lectures with a dissertation on those words of the apostle which were to prove themselves prophetic: "It doth not appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear we shall be like Him for we shall see Him as he is." At the supper given in farewell to the sixth form on Saturday evening no one had been more cheerful or more hopetul than Arnold, no one seemed to 260 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. hold more firmly to life. Then the labors of the whole year over, lessons recited, sermons preached, prizes dis- tributed, the great head master of Rugby lay down to his last sleep. Very early on Sunday morning he was roused by a sharp pain in his chest which increased con- stantly in its intensity. The destroyer of his father's life- claimed his also. Medical skill could do nothing to re- lieve his suffering; affection was powerless to hold him; to the earth and at eight o'clock he was dead. Only the day before the boys of the school had seen him in* their midst, the life and soul of the place, now already he was become only a memory ; imagine their conster- nation, their grief, as they attempted to realize that the "captain of their band" had in the very hour of victory fainted under the burden of life and of the flesh, and had gone forth with the waning night, "A lone soul to* the lone God." As was preeminently fitting, Arnold was buried irt the chapel which had so often re-echoed his words of wisdom, of encouragement and of consolation, and there was erected to his memory the monument which repret sents the common desire of men of all parties and all sects to do him reverence. It were indeed a task most idle were I to attempt description of the sorrow which his death caused, not to the Rugby boys alone, not to his family and friends merely but to the great host of boys as well, who now become men and filling their various places in the world with less or more honor, looked back to Rugby as to the place in which they were first taught to realize the true value of life, for these there had indeed with him "passed away a glory from the earth." The life of Arnold more almost than that of any other man of our times must be estimated as a wholej LECTURE OF PROF. GRACE C. BIBB. 261 not as that of a teacher though instruction was his de- light; not as that of a student though every day added to the rich treasures of his knowledge; not as that of a clergyman though his chaplaincy was a veritable cure of souls, not as that of husband and father though no do- mestic life was ever happier; not as that of Regins Pro- fessor at Oxford, though here he found the crowning glory of his ambition, but as that of a man, most worthy to be thus designated, embracing all these as its mo- ments, and hence, more than that of any contemporary, '"a living epistle known and read of all men," since it is after all, character which acts on character, spirit which responds to spirit throughout the Universe. The eter- nal principle in humanity, that by which it is allied to the Creator recognizes its spiritual kinship with what- ever of the same divine spirit may be found in man. How Arnold's spirit made itself a power, what aspira- tions ennobled, what weak hands strengthened what souls saved who can tell us more feelingly or more faith- fully than his gifted son when he says: "Thou would'st not alone Be saved, my father ! alone Conquer and come to thy goal, Leaving the rest in the wild. We were weary, and we Fearful, and we in our march Fain to drop down and to die. Still thou turnedst, and still Beckonedst the trembler, and still Gavest the weary thy hand, If, in the paths of the world, Stones might have wounded thy feet, Toil or dejection have tried Thy spirit, of that we saw Nothing to us thou wast still Cheerful, and helpful, and firm ! UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Therefore to thee it was given Many to save wfth thyself; And, at the end of thy day, O faithful shepherd ! to come, Bringing thy sheep in thy hand. And through thee I believe In the noble and great who are gone; Pure souls honor'd and blest By former ages, who else Such, so soulless, so poor, Is the race of men whom I see Seemed but a dream of the heart, Seem'd but a cry of desire. Yes! I believe that there lived Others like thee in the past, Not like the men of the crowd, Who all round me to-day Bluster or cringe, and make life Hideous, and arid, and vile; But souls tempered with fire, Fervent, heroic and good, Helpers and friends of mankind.?" THE PROFESSIONAL SCHOOL IN THE AMERICAN UNIVERSITY. BY THOMAS JEFFERSON LOWRY, S. M., C. E., PRO- FESSOR OF CIVIL AND TOPOGRAPHICAL ENGINEER- ING, AND DEAN OF ENGINEERING FACULTY, IN THE UNIVERSITY OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI. The changes which discovery and invention have, within this century, wrought in the life of society and the nation are amazing. The gas-jet has taken the place of the tallow candle, and the telegraph, telephone, and phonograph that of the post. But steam and the multiplication of machinery have been the most far- reaching in their effects, they have revolutionized every industry of our country. Every labor-saving machine invented and adopted throws thousands out of employ- ment; and crying distresses unavoidably characterize these violent social changes. In ameliorating the con- dition of the unemployed we are obviously reduced to this dilemma: Either, the wheels of discovery and in- vention must be blocked, or, our affairs and social condi- tions must be adjusted to those new circumstances. The progress of our civilization demands that the first shall not be done, and, hence, society must adjust itself to this new order of things. It is a fixed fact in our civilization that nature's forces have been subjugated to our needs, 264 UNIVEBSITY OF MISSOURI. by it we' kave grown as a nation to what" \ve are, and it now underlies our whole existence. And despite the howls of ignorance, and fanatic opposition of red-handed communism, steam and wind and gravity and electricity will continue to nerve the untiring arms of machinery in working 'for man; thereby forcing him on to a higher plane of existence, and giving the common laborer com- forts which, a few centuries ago, kings could not pur- chase. Seeing then that a readjustment of vocations is ne- cessitated by the perpetual elimination, by labor-saving machinery, of the great multitude of least intelligent and least versatile laborers, we ask "what are the remedies?" Obviously, they are: ist migration. 2nd. Education of the people to versatility. Mi- gration is necessary and desirable under all circumstances. Large numbers of people cast on shore by the fluctua- tions of mechanic industry, must seek homes on the border land. The continuous circulation thus kept up between the centre and circumference of our country, is a national tonic. It is the great available means of pres- ent readjustment of vocations. It says to the citizen who falls out of the line of productive industry : '-"Go to the foot of the line and begin again. Engage in the excit- ing task of building up civilization in an empty wilder- ness and you and your children shall thrive once more." But, migratioh does not completely solve the problem; for, migration itself presupposes versatility. Thus, the question recurs, with redoubled force, what will give this versatility? All agree on the general answer Educa- tion. But, as to the kind of education there are three theories, differing either, in methods, or aims, or both. The aim of the first of these is the perfection of the individual, and its method is mental gymnastics, in the pursuit of truth. T Q L.KCTURE OP PROF. LOtfAyj I , The aim of the second is the conservation, ment, and transmission of our civilization, and the metno$ it employs is possessing ourselves of truth. The third employs the methods of the first, as pre- paratives, for compassing the aims of the second. The first is the ancient, the second is the rational^ and the third is the traditional system.. -One or the other of these theories has shaped the curriculum of ev- ery English and American college, and now presides over its educational efforts. The first of these we find embodied in the English Universities; the third, in those of our colleges which are of English parentage arid model; and, the second, in those of our Universities which are the necessary outgrowths of American civili- zation prominent among which are Virginia, Cornell, Michigan, Missouri, and John Hopkins. The problem before us now is to determine which Of these systems furnishes the most direct proximate means of attaining versatility. The ancient system views man as an end unto himself, ignores the necessity admitedly makes no pretentions to qualify for exer- cising any trade, calling, or profession, and hence, has no claim on our attention in this inquiry. Now the tradi- tional and the rational systems agree that the great end of all culture is preparation for the activities of life; they differ only in the methods employed for attaining this end. The traditional system says, learn first the useless fact B to get the discipline necessary to acquire the useful fact C; while the rational system ignores useless B and attacks C at once, making it serve both for knowledge and discipline. Now, since it costs as much effort to learn a useless fact as a useful one, it is obvious, that, by that method, half the mental power is wasted, and by this method there is none. In the vicarious discipline of 266 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. that method, a certain amount of the plastic force of the system is used up, and is, therefore, not available for other purposes. This, is the extra mental cost of the tra- ditional system for which we have to show an equivalent in solid advantages, either in knowledge or discipline, for the activities of life, or it will be forced, on the score of economy, to.give way to the rational system. Now, in what do the traditional and rational curricula differ as to subject matter (knowledge)? Essentially this: that the six years work in the classics of that system is, in this one, replaced by two years in the modern languages and four years in the natural sciences and the applied mathematics. It is admitted that these modern languages French and German yield discipline, at least, equal to the classics. And what is incomparably of greater value, they reveal those thoughts, those mind processes, those instruments which have revolutionized the condi- tion of our existence, and which are even now the ad- vance guards in the march of (modern) civilization. When we consider that these fields of thought and re- search were to the classics, and are now to the classicists, dream-land, how ludicrous appears the assumption that the classics furnish knowledge and discipline equal to that of the modern languages, for giving versatility in life's activities. And it does not admit of intelligent question that it is the natural sciences and the applied mathematics which furnish the mainsprings of our ma- terial prosperity, supply the truths indispensible to pro- ductive activity in any of the industries. Now, in fact, the value of a knowledge of the classics, on the ground of the information exclusively contained in Latin and Greek authors, has steadily decreased as the number of good translations from them have increased. In this progressive decrease a point has been reached where the LECTURE OF PROF. LOWRY. 267 residuum of valuable information still locked up in the classics, does not justify the efforts necessarily expended in acquiring these languages. It is true that there are certain artistic effects in literary composition, and pecu- liar subtleties of thought in the moral and metaphysical sciences which are untranslatable; and that the peculiar aroma of classical poetry, is incommunicable, yet if a \nan is conversant with the best translations, he cannot be far from the kingdom of heaven. When the advo- cates of the traditional system were made to see that the price to be paid for these untranslatables and incommu- nicables of the classics, was no less a labor than the com- plete acquisition of the Latin and Greek languages; and were shown the living truths which the same amount of labor would have gathered in the fields of modern thought aud research; and were reminded of the fact that every industrial pursuit is steeped in science; and were forced to recognize that there is not a fact or prin- ciple in the whole compass of physical science, or in the arts and practices of life, that is not fully expressed in ev- ery civilized modern language, they reluctantly yielded the point of the usefulness of the knowledge in the classics for attaining versatility; and took their stand on the proposition, that the classical languages train the mind for the activities of life as nothing else does. Now, determined as it h, that the truths of modern science are of more worth than those in the classics, for guidance and use in the activities of life, it remains to judge of the relative values of these two knowledges for purposes of training for these activities. We may be quite sure, says the great philosopher, Spencer, that the acquirement of those classes of facts, which are most useful in the arts and practices of life, involves a mental exercise best fitting for life's activities. It would be ut- 268 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. terly contrary to the beautiful economy of nature if one kind of culture were needed for the gaining of informa- tion and another kind needed as a mental gymnastic. Everywhere, throughout creation, we find faculties de- veloped through the performance of those functions which it is their office to perform; not through the per- formance of artificial exercises devised to fit them for these functions. The red Indian acquires the swiftness and agility which make him a successful hunter by the actual pursuit of animals. By the miscellaneous activi- ties of farm life the farmer gains a better balance of physical powers than gymnastics ever give. The same law holds throughout education. The education of most value for guidance must, at the same time, be the edu- cation of most value for discipline. Now the evidence. The advantages claimed for language learning are: First, it strengthens the memory. True; but the sciences of Physics, Chemistry, Geology, Mineralogy, Botany and Astronomy afford far wider and richer fields for the exercise of memory. Now mark that while for the training of mere memory, science is as good as, if not better than, language; it has an immense superiority in the kind of memory it cultivates. In the acquirement of a language, the connections of the ideas to be established in the mind correspond to facts which are in a great measure accidental; whereas, in the acquirement of science, the connections of ideas to be established in the mind correspond to facts that are mostly necessary. Unless as is commonly not true the natural relations between words and their meanings are explained, then language learning gives fortuitous relations. The rela- tions which. science presents are causal relations; instead of being practically accidental, they are necessary; and, as such, exercise the reasoning faculties. Language LECTURE OF PROF. LOWRY. 269 familiarizes with non-rational relations, science familiar- izes with rational relations. That one, exercises mem- ory only; this one, exercises both memory and under- standing. ' The translation exercise cultivates inventive -power , but it is only a power to arrange words, and not a power of marshaling scientific truths and principles for meeting (solving) the difficulties arising in the activities of life. By converting the mind into a kaleidoscope of words, it gives only such an inventive power as is needed to solve riddles and conundrums. Bain says, " that all experience shows that only very inferior English composition is the result of translating from Latin or Greek into English. And, that the study of the classics is devoid of interest; and what makes it tolerable is the large devotion of time to the themes of universal interest personal and sensation narrative." Certain it is, however, that these languages become parts of a rational curriculum only when " taught, not merely as gymnastics, but as embodiments of food for the soul," as in the Missouri University. It is reprehensible to delude the student with the fallacies, that through a scheme of aimless exercises (in the classics) for discipline mental power may be accumu- lated for universal application, and that the laseful truths needed, will be gathered by the wayside, with little ef- fort, out in active life. It is not a fact, that the vitalizing truths in any department of human thought, hang around us like apples on a tree, to be gathered with little effort. There is no such thing as getting possession of truths " by throwing salt on their tails." Gaining possession of the truths of the useful sciences means mental exercise more varied, vigorous, protracted, and exhilarating than any to be found in the pursuit of the classics; it means more: 270 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. nourishment for the mind, food for the soul. . The pur- suit of truth exercises and disciplines the mind; but it is truth possessed digested and assimilated which nour- ishes and strengthens the mind. The pursuit of the classics, failing to impart vitalizing truths, enfeebles while it exercises and disciplines the mind. The pursuit of the truths of science exercises and disciplines, while their possession enlightens, nourishes, strengthens, and ener- gizes the mind. The classics stimulate to imitation; the sciences stimulate to individuality. Those give the stu- dent to antiquity; these give him to himself. The classics make hero worshipers; science makes heroes. The dogmatic teachings of the classics engender blind faith in authorities, and thus smother out independent thought and inquiry. Science, by revealing the causal relations of the facts and phenomena of nature, arms and stimulates the mind to independent inquiry and research; and, thus, fosters independence, that most valuable ele- ment in character, that essence of true manhood. "I tell you there is something splendid in that young man who will not always mind. Why, if we had done as the kings told us five hundred years ago, we would all have been slaves. If we had done as the old school doctors told us we would all have been dead. If we had done as our antiquated classical teacher^ told us, we would have all been mental imbeciles. We have been saved by disobedience ; we have been saved by that splendid thing called independence, and I want to see more of it, day after day, and I want to see children raised up so they will have it. Give the children a chance for success. Don't try to teach them some- thing they can never learn. Don't insist upon their pursuing some calling they have no sort of taste or' talent for. Don't make that poor girl play ten years on a piano when she has no ear for music, and when she has practiced until she can play 'Bonaparte Crossing the Alps,' and you can't tell after she has played it whether Bonaparte ever got across or not." Individuality is the soul of success. The men who LECTURE OF PROF. LOWRY. 271 achieve the greatest successes out in real life, are those who bristle all over with individuality. Commn sense then clearly points to those educational facilities which insure the freest and fullest development of individuality, as the means most potent, in raising the mental faculties of childhood and boyhood to their highest degrees of healthful capability. Straight-jackets for mind and body are known, neither in the family circle nor out in busy life. They are instruments for crippling normal activity, and are peculiar to the asylum and the colleges ancient and traditional. Education in the family individualizes. The intui- tion of the mother detects the mental proclivities of the child, and nourishes and directs them in the lines of their peculiar activities. Hence, we see why so many great men attribute their success to their early home training; why, in the zenith of their fame, they invoke blessings on her who paved their way to success. It is she who so energizes the intellectual faculties of the child that no reasonable amount of the cramping and cram- ming processes of our traditional colleges can wholly paralyze them. Yes, cramp the mind as you may, cor- set it as you will with the curricula of these colleges, yet, if not strained beyond the limit of perfect elasticity, individuality reasserts itself, and nerves it on to a success . directly proportional to its surviving energies. But let the mind be strained by a classical course till it receives a permanent set Greece-ward or Rome-ward, till the head is charged with antiquated ideas, till the mind is enervated by mumbling over the dry bones of antiquity, and is thus incapacitated to resume its relation with the on-flowing current of events of the age, then, the chances are high that we will behold the pitiable spectacle of it giving the go-by to modern thought and knowledge and 272 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. thinning down its intellectual life to a languid nursing of its classical memories. Seeing then that individuality is the inspiring thought of the educations received at home and out in life, I submit, that it should preside over the education in college, in order to make it (education) a continuous process. Disciplining the student in the sciences, gives a knowledge of, and trains in the use of, the forces, mate- rials, and objects of nature, things which challenge his attention in boyhood, and force themselves upon him in manhood. Education in the sciences is a continuation of the healthy plastic education of boyhood, and it flows on out into the intellectual life of a productive manhood. The vicarious discipline in the classics not only in- volves enormous waste, but it utterly ignores the fact that, the leading out of the mental faculties, which we call education, should be a continuous process, begin- ning at the cradle and ending at the grave. The educa- tions received, first at home, second at college, and third out in busy life, are interdependent, and should hence be parts of one harmonious whole. Now, our traditional system of education is neither an outgrowth of the proper education of childhood, nor does it flow on into the intellectual life of manhood; it is a foreign body of thought, a cramping, cramming, distorting process, un- congenial and unaffiliated, thrust into the college period, and destroying the unity and continuity of the mental career. When forced from the position that the classics fur- nish superior discipline for the activities of life, the advo- cates of the traditional system insisted, as a peculiar merit, that it gives " broad culture." Broad culture ! Ah, yes! an expression which has that amount of vagueness about it which makes it a convenient shelter for a bad L.ECTURK OF PROF. L.OWRY. 273 case. That mind is nearest perfect (z. ; . Fall short of it and your life is a failure, fail within it and success is vours. It is here that Go;l .lias wrought his wonders to perform, it is here that are fninJ the mainsprings of the world's progressive civilization. Now our traditional colleges have ever pu-.he 1 the ap:>!ie.l sciences into the back- ground, utterly obiivio i> of, or ignoring, the fict that the application of the. science, in the exact an- 1 the. industrial arts, completes genuine Amen .-an civiliza ion, fixes the material ami ^>c; al pro.spe.rity' ot the whole countrv. American civi iz no \ and holding up to inspection, that central thread of com- mon sense on which the pearls of analytical research are invariably found strung. For until the teacher does this, his own spirit is not illumined, and hence he cunnot come before his class with his mind all ablaze, shedding living light on his subject. And to acquire the good will of his pupils it is not necessary that he shall be a fawning sycophant, cowering for a smile. There is that which is far more potent: a hearty, open, up and down enthusiasm for the subject of his teaching. We have* in the career of every live teacher, a forcible illustration of this idea, and a living testimony of the patent truth in the saying of Josh Billings, that, "a live man in a Uni- versity is like the itch in a district school puts every- body to scratching." Force of character in a teacher, is no less important than this enthusiasm. 'Tis spirit thnt responds to spirit, mind that acts on mind, character that impresses char- acter, hence, it is disastrous to subject the plastic mind of youth to the influence, the tuition of a mind without force of character. To breathe the atmosphere of such a mind is contamination, to touch it is disease, and long contact with it, is intellectual death. That the student possess enthusiasm, is not enough. It must be a healthy enthusiasm. An enthusiasm for a profession which he can master an ambition to accom- 294 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. plish that which is within his reach. To attempt more, or aim higher, is spending your strength beating the winds. Don't shoot at the stars. Let's first measure our strength, then aim at a mark the highest, which we have a reasonable hope of attaining, ever bearing in mind that we Americans are prone to overestimate our mental powers and physical endurance. We all imagine we are born either for the Court of St. James, the halls of Congress or the White House. Missouri is full of young men who have their eyes on marks which, if they would but measure their mental calibers, they would see there is not a ghost of a chance of their ever attaining. "O wud some power the giftie gae us, to see ourselves as ithers see us." Do I hear the objection that perhaps hidden powers of mind are possessed? Don't deceive yourselves, young gentlemen. If you have the promethean spark within, you are conscious of it, just as conscious as you are of the muscular strength of your arm. To the idea that every American is a born lawyer, doctor, orator, or statesman, and the consequent rushing into the glorious professions, as they are called, law, medicine, and politics, is due the failure of so many. Those minds and hands which the nation needs, and whose exertions will be paid and applauded, are not the plodders in the lower walks of the glorious professions; but instead, those brains and muscles which have the faculty, habit, and inclination of thinking logically and quickly, of putting two and two together and their shoulders to the wheel. But are you determined? then go on! ignore the useful professions! make petty-fog lawyers, quack-doctors, one-horse preachers, and politic- ians, and see how quickly the world will put you on half-rations, or send you to the poor house. "The LECTURE OP PROF. LOWKY. 295 offices of life are mainly humble; and the mental powers and capabilities of students are mainly humble." The sooner we see this truth clearly, and act upon it,, the sooner we place ourselves in the way of becoming producers in the hive of humanity, useful to the world in our day and generation. "As a matter of fact and experience it is found that a student usually accomplishes very little until a settled and definite purpose presides over his movements. The energies of youth are limited and hence to qualify them for life's work, which is the great aim of scholastic edu- cation, as much definiteness as practicable should be given to their energies to save them from waste." There is not enough definiteness of aim among the American students. We find among them too many cross-eyed minds, minds which, when they bend the bow to shoot the crow, kill the cat in the window. The average American student at college has a burning desire to acquire everything in general, but nothing in particular, to go everywhere in the whole realm oi literature, language, and science. They are in a great hurry to go somewhere and get something, but "where" or "what," they too often know not. It is this indeft- niteness of aim, this vacillating purpose, which develops them into the intellectual Don Quixotes of our country, who are ever charging upon imaginary intellectual knights, ever attempting the impracticable and the im- possible. While it is those minds who, knowing their powers, work in the lines of their mental activities with a definiteness and fixedness of purpose, are the soldiers in the army of civilization. Cultivate force of character if you would be of the higher order of men. The two grand divisions, alike of animals and men are verte- brates and invertebrates. Vertebrate men have a back- 296 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. bone, and invertebrate men h^ve none, but a long strip of cartilage where the back-bone ought to be. Those we admire, these we pity and despise. A man without back-bone, a vacillating, double-minded man is, in busi- ness, a failure; in the army he is a blunder; in the navy he is a Sinbad; in the coast survey he is a cooker j in science he is a smatterer; in the mechanic and the exact arts he is a bungler; in agriculture he is a dabbler; in medicine he is a quack; in the pulpit he is a narcotic; at the bar he is a shyster; in politics he is a demagogue; in the forum he is a buncombe; in the presidential chair he is a tool in the hands of scheming politicians; in paint- ing he is a dauber; in poetry he is a rhymster; in music he is an automaton; in the drawing room he is a fawn- ing sycophant, cowering for a smile; in the editorial sanctum he is a scribbler; in the faculty he is a stum- bling block; in the school room he is a failure, yes, worse, he is a curse, he is a crime: In his essence he is a fraud. In this life, his, is endless trouble and vexation of spirit; and in Heaven, w-e-1-1 he is not admitted there: James I, 6-y: "He that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord." By the meagre instruction of the traditional college and by its perverted order of attempting to evenly draw out the mental faculties, and by its insane effort to mould into one form the minds of all the pupils, not only has the entire public mind been dwarfed but thousands of intellects have been, and are continually murdered; and to shield their own inefficiency and that of their system these teachers pronounce over the masses a condemna- tory verdict of imbecility, by such truisms as, "we can't polish brick-bats, nor draw blood out of turnips." LECTURE OP PROF. LOWRY. 297 Our rational universities with their professional schools, made the first lift, the first effort to restore to each individual the use of his peculiar mental faculties, by bringing within easy reach the fertilizing means of instruction in the line of each mind's activity. The par- ticular spark latent in each human creature is being en- kindled, and the dignity of humanity redeemed in the masses. On the extension of these professional schools, depends tiie true progress and all-embracing civilization of the people. That agriculture and mines furnish the raw material for the life-blood of our nation, which manufactures digest, and commerce distributes to every part, are prop- ositions indisputable, are. political axioms, self-evident upon the mere statement. Agriculture and mines are the feeders, manufactures the stomachs, commerce the veins and arteries, and the telegraph wires the nerves of the American nation. We can, hence, see that the four grand pillars of our state prosperity are so linked in union together that no permanent cause of prosperity or adversity to one of them, can operate without extending its influence to the others. Now, in a healthy nation, leaving out only some very small classes, what are ail men employed in? They are employed in the produc- tion, preparation, and distribution ot commodities. Is it not then clear, that the true work of the American uni- versities, in their special schools, is to foster these great national industries, by forming, not * 'hewers of wood and drawers of water," not ignoramuses who will place themselves in competition with modern machinery, but rather enlightened members of the body politic, produc- tive members of the community; skillful, well-informed practical artisans, operatives, agriculturists, and artists in the industrial and exact arts. It is these men, full of live 298 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. science and its applications in the industrial and the exact arts, who are at once the masters of the situation, and a demand of the age. In fact, the American universities have already made professional education a successful and important part of their service to the public. "It is, says Prof. Eliot, a function which we have acquired within this century, have found very useful and propose to en- large. To us a relinquishment of this power by Oxford and Cam- bridge, seems a loss of power and an injury both to the universi- ties and the nation. The abandonment by the English universi- ties of the great field of professional education is one of the most noteworthy things in their history. Formerly, they, like the con- tinental universities, had faculties of theology, law, and medicine; but the professional instruction in law has been practically aban doned by them for generations; while even in theology their meagre provision of systematic instruction has lost them the con- trol of the Anglican clergy. Professional education in law and medicine long since left Oxford and Cambridge and went to London, where neither legal nor medical education has been satisfactorily provided for." England is fifty years behind Germany in her edu- cational facilities. The German gymnasium with the University, the German Realschule with the Professional School, are the life and lights of that nation which ha& within twelve years arisen in her colossal grandeur, and assumed her place as the arbiter of the destinies of Europe. And they stand now beacon lights upon the mountain tops to guide the educational efforts of the world. The American Universities, profiting by the blunders of the English Universities, are incorporating professional schools into their curricula. The following historical matter is from Prof. Gil- man in North American Review r , 1876: "The earliest professional education in this country,, was given by the clergymen, lawyers, and physicians, each in his own way and own study, without any refer- ... ee.- /e i LECTURE OP PROF. < ence to an academic examination or degre'e/Vy^e. im- perfection of such means of education gradually Ied4o| the establishment of schools, which were technical train- ing-places for lawyers, ministers and physicians. One of the earliest and best of law schools was begun in Litchfield, Connecticut, by Judges Reeve and Gould in 1784, and maintained for many years drawing to its in- instrtictions young men from the most distant parts of the land. In 1794, Chancellor Kent delivered his intro- ductory lecture on law in Columbia College, N. Y. In 1816 Harvard appointed a professor of law. The Law School at New Haven was organized in 1824, and re- mained a private institution until 1846, though a profes- sorship of law had been maintained in Yale College after 1801. The University of Virginia began a law school in 1825. There are now thirty-eight schools of law. "It was during the Revolution that the first steps were taken at Cambridge for the introduction of the study of medicine, and a plan for the establishment of three chairs relating to medicine was presented to the Corporation by Dr. Warren in 1782. The Medical school at New Haven was begun in 1813; the College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York dates from 1807. There are now seventy-four schools of medicine, besides eleven dental and fourteen pharmaceutical colleges. " The Catholics maintained a Theological school at Baltimore as early as 1791, and another at Emmitsburg in 1808; the theological school was founded at Andover in 1807, at Princeton in 1812, at Cambridge in 1817, at Bangor in 1818, at New Haven in 1822, though in the colleges last named, theological instruction had, for a long time previous, been given to graduates. Now 800 UNIVEBSITY OF MISSOURI. there are 1 13 theological schools. It is thus apparent that one of the earliest intellectual movements of the Republic was the organization of professional schools. "One of the most important modifications in the higher education has been the growth, within the last twenty-five years, of special schools of science. For a long period the United States Military Academy at West Point, founded in 1802, was not only a school of military engineering, but was the chief place in the country for the training of topographical, hydrogra- phical and civil engineers. In 1826 the Rensselaer Polytechnic school at Troy was incorporated, and un- der the guidance of Amos Eaton quickly exerted a strong influence in favor of what has been called in later days, the New Education. About twenty years later the foundation of the Lawrence Scientific school at Cam- bridge, and the accession of Agassiz to its staff of teachers, gave the next impulse to scientific education, and soon the Yale, now the Sheffield Scientific school began its career. Now, most of the older institutions and the State Universities of the West, of which, Co- lumbia, Princeton, Dartmouth, and Pennsylvania Uni- versity (and the Universities of Michigan and Missouri) are conspicuous examples, announce their special courses in engineering and other departments of science. The Stevens Institute at Hoboken, distinct from every other foundation, has made a specialty of mechanics and physics." Many of our best geodists, astronomers and topographical and hydrographical engineers have re- ceived their training by service, during a term of years, on the United States Coast Survey. "In 1862 Congress appropriated a very large portion of the national domain for the encouragement of scientific instruction. The act is known as the 'Agricultural College Act/ but its pro- JjECTURE OP PROF. LOWBY. 301 visions include the sciences relating to agriculture and the me- chanic arts, not excluding literary and classical studies. Its in- tent was to give an impulse all over the land to those studies which have the most obvious relation to the development of the national resources, and which will fit young men for modera scientific professions. Its effect has been remarkable. Notwith- standing occasional infelicities in the plans of operation adopted by some of the states, the genera! influence of this endowment has been excellent. In some of the older eastern states the na- tional grant was sometimes given to the support and development of institutions already begun, as at Providence, New Haven, Bur- lington, Hanover, and New Brunswick. In Massachusetts it was divided, a part going to the Institute of Technology in Boston, and a part to the Agricultural College at Amherst. In New York this gift gave strength and vitality to Cornell University, and ena- bled it to spring at once into a position of conspicuous influence." In a few of the western states this national bounty went to the State Universities, to found agricultural colleges, as in Missouri,. Wisconsin and Minnesota. "The southern states, in consequence of the war, were slow to receive the bene'fits of the Act; but throughout the North and West, institutions aided by this grant are now in full progress, and usually with results which are better than even the friends of the enactment anticipated." The American Universities are incorporating pro- fessional schools into their curricula; but the}' are com- mitting the fatal blunder of attempting to teach the arts without putting than into practice. And our Poly- technic schools and Military Institutes are falling into the same error. 1 emote from the Report of the special Examining Board of the Virginia Military Institute, Lexington, Va., July 1st, 1^75. The Board consisted of Prof. Chas. Davies, Maj.-Gen. W. F. Barry, U. S. A., Prof. D. II. Cochran and Gen. J. \V. Grigsb> : "The theoretical instruction, and resulting discipline, in this department must be excellent; bui, the committee would si; the importance of conciv : :es, and that frequent e: in obtaining by actual surveys ihe data lor the application of the formula, serves both to elucidate the formula and insure their S02 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. ready and accurate application in professional life. In the opinion of your committee the course in Civil Engineering would be strengthened by increasing the proportion which the field work at present bears to the theoretical instruction." Now, in the light of experience, in the light of common sense itself, I say, if the American Universities would heed this idea of the practical this idea of uniting manipulative skill with theoretical instruction in these professional schools, then would teaching the Exact Arts cease to be the vexed question it is. If the farmer produce by mistake articles, of a quality which others do not want, or in a quantity greater than the demand of the market, then he suffers serious loss, it may be ruin, by his products rotting unused. The necessity is equally great for the professional schools to study closely, the markets for their products, the demands of the industries and professions. They should keep in view, the quantity and quality of the demands of the markets, when pointing out to their students the most promising and most important directions of labor and thought in the industries and professions; should never loose sight of the fact that they are manufacturing for these markets. For Americans, the best education is an inspiration more than an acquisition. It comes not simply from in- dustry and steady habits, but far more largely from that kindling and glowing zeal which is best begotten by familiar contact with large libraries and museums, and by constant intercourse with students of the same pur- suits and the same ambitions and with enthusiastic speci- alists. It shows itself not so much in the amount the possessor has made himself master of, as in the spirit which he takes what he knows and goes out- with it to grapple with his life work. American education is im- LECTURE OF PROF. I.OWRY. 803 portant, not so much for what it does for the pupil, as for what it enables him to do for himself. The sooner we make a youth pursue a course of culture for himself, the sooner we graduate him from our colleges. By pre- paring him to take his education into his own hands, we give him the benefit of a perpetual self-education. The pride of America is her self-educated men. Self-de- termination is aimed at in our universities, not only in the theoretical sphere, but in the sphere of the will. Our best universities only prepare a man to take his ed- ucation into his own hands. And he is best prepared for this, who has the power of exact and original thought, joined to the enthusiastic spirit. The course of study which best gives these, is a thorough knowledge^ theoretical and practical, of one or two of the subjects of a rational college curriculum, added to an elemen- tary knowledge of all its subjects. This makes a richer, stronger, and more fruitful mind than a super- ficial acquaintance with each and all of them. This, is the education obtained in the professional school of the American university. Professional education; i. gives accuracy of thought; 2. it awakens a healthy and life- long enthusiasm for the pursuit of knowledge; 3. it gives versatility, the remedy sought for in the readjustment of vocations ; 4. it conserves and improves our civiliza- tion. Professional studies best give precision of thought and accurate knowledge. Here knowledge must be put into practice; and no slip-shod half-way knowledge of a subject gives that clearness and precision of thought which is necessary for putting this knowledge into prac- tice. "Every such study has a practical bewaring, and in the students mind is invested with a strong sense of re- sponsibility. Hence springs an idea of moral and phys- 304 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. ical obligation to be faithful and thorough. The noblest fruit of education h this sense of responsibility and ac- countability. With its acquisition the youth becomes a man, the 'unwilling school-boy' enters upon what he feels to be the serious work of life. "The special merit oi an office education, i. e., the training to be gained in a lawyer's, doctor's, or engi- neer's office, in the counting room, or in a factory is due to the fact that there the student deals with the problems of real and not ideal life. The obvious im- portance of every step in a process stamps it ineffaceably upon the mind. This is equally true of the studies in a professional school." A professional education awakens a healthy enthu- siasm for the pursuit of knowledge. No\v, there is in every branch of knowledge a beginning, a middle, and an end. A beginning in which the student is striving with new and difficult principles, and is relying in a great measure on the authority of his instructor; a mid- dle in which he has gained some confidence in his own p nvers, and some power of applying his first principles. He has as yet no reason to suppose his career can be checked. Let him proceed, and he will come to what is caiied the end of his subject, the commencement of a region which has not been tracked or surveyed; and here his mind will either come to a dead stand-still, or go forth on voyages of original investigation and dis- covery. What is a' student when he graduates at our col- leges? Is his education then finished? Is he to pursue no branch oi study further? Nay does not a practical business career open upon him immediately? The law- yer, physician, engineer, or teacher in order to be a fin- ished lawyer, physician, engineer or teacher must be LECTURE OF PROF. LOWRY. 305 able to investigate his subjects up to the boundaries of knowledge. Seeing then that the future business of life will require knowledge of the way to "go through^ with" a branch of inquiry, I submit that such a process should form in one instance at least, the exercise of col- lege years. Convince the mind by one example, and the similarity which exists between all branches of knowledge will teach the same truth for all. Going through with at least one subject, as we do in a p'rofes- sional school, will accomplish a two-fold purpose: i. it will awaken the mind to a \vholesome and just estimate of its powers; 2. it will imbue the mind with a healthy enthusiasm for the pursuit of knowledge, an enthusi- asm which vvill enable the student to carry his other studies up into that higher state of knowledge where the mind can effectively apply thought to its collected stores, and thus prepare it for those sublimest of intellec- tual efforts discovery and invention. There is some- thing inspiring in the upper regions of knowledge as, of the atmosphere. And as the old eagle takes her young eaglets to the mountain tops when training them to fly, so must the teacher take his students up into the hi'gher regions, up to the boundaries of knowledge when teaching them to fly, when starting them out on- voyages of original investigation, discovery and in- vention. Professional education gives versatility. Experience has revealed (and mental philosophers explained) the following phenomenon, that men who have given deep attention to one or more liberal studies can learn to the end of their lives, and are able to retain and apply very small quantities of other kinds of knowledge; while those who never learned much of any one thing, seldom acquire new knowledge after they attain to years of 306 UNIVERSITY OF MISSO.URT. maturity, and frequently loose the greater part of that which they once possessed. Now, it is the professional school of the American University that gives deep at- tention to one or more studies, that gives a thorough knowledge theoretical and practical of one or two of the subjects of a rational curriculum, added to an elementary knowledge of all its subjects, therefore, it is this profes- sional school that best gives versatility. Professional education best conserves and improves our civilization, because: i. It gives precision of thought, and awakens enthusiasm, and thus, meets the ends of true culture; 2. It secures the highest skilled activity of each individual, and 'gives him versatility in life's activi- ties , 3. It gives a knowledge, theoretical and practical, of those sciences and arts in which civilization rests. But is it objected that students and professors in these professional schools will become hardened one- sided bigots? This is impossible for a .mind which breathes the liberalizing atmosphere of a university of associated professional schools. By mere absorption it will get enough to preclude the possibility of this. It certainly cannot be logically argued that because a mind appreciates the grandeur and harmony of Astronomy that its eye shall necessarily grow dim and its ear dull to the harmony and beauties of the workings of the forces of the physical and chemical sciences. And this liber- alizing atmosphere extends even beyond the walks and walls of bur universities, it is diffused through our edu- cated communities. This free commerce of ideas be- tween the minds of all men goes constantly on, in the most active, subtile ways, with effects the most salutary. There is no kind of property which is not in some de- gree made more valuable by every educated mind in its vicinity. Whoever will trace out this subject in all its LECTURE OF PROP. L.OWRY. 307 bearings, and will add up its results will find that its sum will be equal to the difference between a civilized and savage community. He who reads human society the deepest, sees it the clearest that those handmaids of liberty, the press, the pulpit, the bar, and the industrial, the fine, and the engi- neering arts are the world's great civilizers. It is the combined influence of these, and not the desolation of successful war, which has planted and upheld the stand- ard of Christian civilization at the ends of the earth. Have not the industrial arts won man from his nomadic wanderings and poured into the lap of industry the ma- terial comforts and luxuries of civilization? Have not the fine arts refined the tastes, purified and ennobled the aspirations and fired the soul on to the accomplishment of the sublimest efforts of human genius? And what shall we say of the engineering arts, which have spanned the great rivers, scaled the mountain tops, .and united the two oceans; and, by thus cementing our Union, upheld at once and perpetuated our national unity and our country's freedom. Surveyors and engi- neers are the artificers of the great commercial arteries and veins of the earth. While other great influences are the vis viva, the living moving forces which impel the commercial blood of the world, yet their's are the arts, which render its circulation possible, which carve out the channels for the world's commerce on land; and, at sea, render its circulation safe by furnishing charts of coasts and piloting it from port to port. Their counsel is sought, their skill is required in war as well as in peace. The successful general requires the skill of the surveyor's pencil to delineate the topography of the ground over which he is to manoeuvre or fight. Topographical maps were the faithful counselors of 808 UNIVERSITY OP MISSOURI. Napoleon I. It was with these, and not his assembled marshals, that he held his councils of war on the eve of every great campaign, manoeuvre, or battle. And the parts which topographical charts played in our civil war would furnish the richest pages of its unwritten history. Their want, would go far toward explaining many of the reverses to the federal arms in '61 and '62, and their use, many of their successes in '63 and '64. And the statesman finds in engineers his most powerful instru- ments for bringing about his designs; they enable him to regulate the speed of the wheel of progress, by with-holding their influence the car of progress stops. At the close of our Civil war what did we find? Our nation torn into bloody fragments. The work of the warrior, it is true, was done; but the work of the statesman was just begun. The work of propping the bloody fragments of our nation together with bayonets was indeed accomplished; but the work of cementing them together was to be conceived and executed. The statesmen of that day took in the problem, and by a bold and admirable stroke of statesmanship solved it. They lent national aid to gigantic enterprises of perme- ating the nation, in every direction, with great commer- cial arteries, veins, and nerves, railroads those and these the telegraph wires till state was knit to state the na- tion over. But this idea was not new or original with the statesmen of 1865. Jefferson conceived it and every President from him up to Jackson reiterated and advoca- ted it. Jefferson, in his third annual message to Congress, uses this language: "By building roads and canals and improving rivers, new channels. of commercial commu- nication and social intercourse will be opened between the states; the lines of 'separation will disappear; their interests will be identified, and their, union cemented by &ECTUKR OF PROF. LOWRY. 809 new and indissoluble ties." Calhoim says, "the strongest of all cements of our bodies politic are the roads, canals, rivers, the press, and the mails. Whatever impedes the intercourse of the different states of our Republic weakens their union. The more enlarged the sphere of commercial circulation the more extended that of social intercourse the more strongly are we bound together the more inseperable are our destinies." Now, these ideas accord with human reason. For, those who understand the human heart best, know how powerfully distance tends to break the sympathies of our nature. Nothing not even dissimilarity of language tends more to estrange man from man. Can we not, then, see clearly how railroads and telegraph wires, by annihilating space, have bound our Republic together. The engineering arts are the keys to the mystery of that liberal commerce which connects by golden chains the interests of /nankind. Now, give me the power of cutting off, at will, the knowledge of the engineering arts and I will shake the world -will make every na- tion on the face of the earth quake from centre to cir- cumference. Give me the command of the engineers and astronomers of earth and I will at one fell stroke paralyze the commerce of the world on land and at sea: And, will weaken the power that binds these states till it is weaker than a rope of sand; till revolutions sweep over this nation like troubled visions o'er the breast of dreaming sorrow ; till contending armies and states rise and sink like bubbles on the water. To us Americans then can anything be indifferent that respects the cause of the engineering arts, when we have used them in civ- ilizing our country and cementing our union. Ah, sirs, is it not a burning shame that these engineering arts, which contribute so powerfully to the improvement of 310 UNIVERSITY OP MISSOURI. our country and race, which are absolutely necessary to our national preservation, are not an educational care of all the great Universities of our land. The lights of applied science are now upon the mountain tops; the waves and winds of error and fanati- cism beat upon them! Who shall keep them? You teachers of applied science, you gentlemen of the pro- fessional schools, are the watchmen. Keep these vestal fires burning. And, on the night of December 31, 1899, as the clock of heaven rings out the old and rings in the new century, when from out the storm and dark- ness comes the voice of Liberty ringing abroad, "watch- men, what of the night?" we'll send the answer back to heaven," 12 o'clock and all is well." P. S.: Much of the material of this lecture is I believe new; and much of the remainder can lay claim to whatever originality there is involved in "using old facts in new circumstances." I have extracted largely from the writings of Presidents Gilman v Eliot, and Laws, and Professors E. L. Youmans, W. T. Harris, Bain, and Herbert Spencer. My reason for not always giving them credit on the spot when using their ideas and language, was that, in dissecting these from their context, and adapting and fitting them into the context above, I have oftener misrepresented, than truthfully represented, what they intended to say. In conclusion, it is perhaps proper to state that while in college, I read the entire Latin course (and part of the Greek) as laid down by our western univer- sities. T. J. L. ART, THE IDEAL OF ART AND THE UTIL- ITY OF ART. BY GEORGE C. BINGHAM, PROFESSOR OF DRAWING IN THE UNIVERSITY- OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI. (From the MISSOURI STATESMAN, March yth, 1879.) In consequence of a severe attack of pneumonia,' -which con- fined Prof. Bingham to his room, at his request the lecture \va read by his friend Maj. Rollins, president of the board of curators. After a few preliminary and appropriate remarks by Dr. Laws, in which he referred to the fact that this was the first and only public recognition which had been given to the Fine Arts in the institu- tion since its first organization, and expressing the wish that in the future good results would flow from it in the permanent estab- lishment of a School of Design and of Art in the University, he introduced to the audience the reader of the lecture, who after ex- pressing his very great regret for the cause which kept Gen. Bingham away from the meeting, proceeded to make some very complimentary remai-ks in reference to the high character of that gentleman as a citizen of Missouri, and one of the most eminent artists of our country. Evidences of his wonderful genius were to be seen in the capitol of the state, and indeed in many parts of the country whererer a taste for the fine arts had received any attention. Maj. R. said it had been his good fortune to know Prof. Bing- ham for nearly forty-five years, since their young manhood, as intimate friends and companions, and he could sav with entire truth that he had never known a purer or better man, one of whom any commonwealth might feel justly proud. Although no artist .812 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. himself, but ha\ ing a great fondness for pictures, in the course of his extended remarks he commented freely upon some of the paintings before the audience, and others, also the productions of his genius, and which had won for him great distinction in the world of Art. He spoke of the great moral effect of all his works, and wherein a number of them so handsomely illustrated the character and habits of Western life, and others of them illus- trated with inimitable skill, the free institutions under which we live; these monuments of his genius and artistic skill would live and be admired, when it may be the institutions themselves shall ha\ o perished. Maj. R. referred to a number of interesting facts in reference to the early history of this part of the state, and also told several anecdotes which were very much relished by his hearers. In proceeding to read the lecture of Prof. Bingham, he said it was due to that gentleman to say that it had been hastily pre- pared in a few days, and had not been even recopied. The subject of the lecture was "Art, the Ideal of Art, and the Utility of Art." It was read so that every one in the audience heard it distinctly, enjoyed it, and was greatly instructed by it. The lecture was written in the clear and strong style which marks all the productions of Prof. Bingham's pen, chaste and classical in all his allusions to ancient and modern art, and artists, and main- taining his position with an argument and logic which seemed un- answerable. The evening passed off most pleasantly, and we are gratified to see so much interest manifested in the subject of the Fine Arts by the young gentlemen and ladies of the University. [Mr. Bingham died in Kansas City, July 7, 1879, in the 69th year of his age. The following is his lecture:] , Gentlemen and Students of the University : I have been requested by our worthy president to embody in a brief lecture, and present to you some of the views on Art which I have been led to entertain from many years of practice and experience and famili- arity with the works of many of its most eminent profes- sors. We are all naturally disposed to prefer that mode of expression by which we can communicate to others, most forcibjy and clearly, the thought to which we are LECTURE OF PROF. BINGHAM. 313 prompted to give utterance. Hence artists have gener- ally been averse to giving a mere verbal expression to ideas which they are able to present in a far more satis- factory manner, with the pencil or chisel. It is doubt- less owing to this reluctance on their part that the lite- rature of their profession is chiefly the product of theorists who can err in safety under the silence of those who alone have the ability to correct them. These theorists are often laboriously ambiguous even in their definition of Art. Micheal Angelo, whose sublime and unrivaled pro- ductions, both in painting and sculpture, certainly entitle him to be regarded as good authority in all that related to Art, clearly and unhesitatingly designates it as "The imitation of nature." The Oxford student, however, who ranks as the ablest and most popular writer upon the subject, under- takes to convince his readers that the imitation of nature so far from being Art, is not even the language of Art. He boldly goes still further and asserts that the more perfect the imitation the less it partakes of the character of genuine Art. He takes the position that Art to be genuine must be true, and that an imitation of nature so perfect as to produce an illusion, and thereby make us believe that a thing is what it really is not, gives expres-' sion to a falsehood, and cannot therefore be justly re- garded as genuine Art, an essential quality of which is truth. Such logic may be convincing to the minds of those admirers who regard him as an oracle upon any sub- ject which he chooses to touch with his pen. But in all candor it seems to me to be merely on a par with that of a far less distinguished character, who, travelling with a companion along the banks of a river, undertook, for a 314 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. wager, to convince him that the side of the river on which they were journeying was really the other side. He did it by stating as his postulate that the river had two sides, and as the side opposite to them was one of these sides, the side on which they were traveling was necessarily the other side. Truth and such logic are not always in harmony. The well known story of Zenxas and Appeles, two of the most famous painters of ancient Greece, has been handed down to us through the intervening ages. Being rivals and alike ambitious of distinction, a challenge passed between them for a trial of their skill. One painted a picture of grapes so perfect in its imitation of that luscious fruit, that the birds of the air flocked to partake of them as a servant was carrying the picture to the place of exhibition. The other merely painted upon his canvass a curtain, but so perfect was its resem- blance to a real curtain, that his rival stretched forth his hand to remove it in order to get a view of the supposed picture beneath. Such an adherence to nature, and I may add to the truth of nature, constitutes what should properly be called the truth of Art; that Art only which belies nature is false Art. These imitations are recorded in the literature of that classic period, as evidence of the excellence in Art by which it was characterized. We are loth to suppose in an age made illustrious by the highest civilization which the world -had then attained, and surrounded by works of Art which coming ages will never surpass, great statesmen, scholars, artists, and literary men could have been so far mistaken in regard to the true nature of Art, as to recognize as an excellence therein, that which was reallv a defect. About the close of the war of 1812 one of the great LKCTURE OF PROF. BINGHAM. 315 naval conflicts between the British and American fleets was dramatized upon the stage in the city of Baltimore. The scenery was arranged with all the skill which the most consummate Art could bestow upon it. Even the movements of the vessels and the motion of the waves were closely imitated. An unsophisticated sailor who had participated in such conflicts, happened to be seated in the pit as one of the audience. Becoming absorbed in what was transpiring before him, to an extent which banished all idea of mere stage effect from his mind, he thought he saw one of our vessels beclouded with smoke, and threatened with destruction by the .enemies' fleet. His patriotism rose above all considerations of personal safety . He .could not rest without an effort to transmit to the imperilled vessel a knowledge of the danger by which it was threatened. This could only be done by taking to the water, he being an excellent swimmer. He sprang up with great excitement, and approaching the stage and shedding his linen as he went, he plunged head foremost into what he took to be water, but it being only a well devised imitation of that element he went through it to the basement about twenty feet be- low, leaving our vessel to its fate. What man of ordi- nary intelligence will venture to affirm that scenic Art thus so nearly resembling the reality of nature is less Art on that account? More than once in my own experience portraits painted by myself, and placed in windows facing the sun to expedite their drying, have been mistaken for the originals by persons outside, and spoken to as such. Such occurrences doubtless mark the experience of nearly every portrait painter; but none of them ever dreamed that the temporary deception thus produced lessened the artistic merit of such works. The great ability of Ruskin 816 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. as a writer is generally and justly conceded. He has performed a great work for artists of his own age in de- stroying that reverence for the works of the old masters which has attributed to them an excellence entirely be- yond the reach of modern genius. But no artist can safely accept his teachings as an infallible guide. Artists who expect to rise to anything like eminence in their profes- sion, must study nature in all her varied phases, and ac- cept her both a 3 his model and teacher. He may consid- er every theory which may be advanced upon the subject nearest to his heart, but ht; must trust his own eyes and never surrender the deliberate and matured conclusions of his own judgment to any authority however high. \Vhat I mean by the imitation of nature is the por- traiture, of her charms as she appears to the eye of the artist. A pictorial statement which gives us distant trees, the leaves of which are all seperately and distinctly marked, is no imitation of nature. She never thus pre- sents herself to our organs of vision. Space and atmos- phere, light and shadow, stamp their impress on all that we see in the extended fields which she opens to our view, and an omission to present upon our canvass a graphic resemblance of the appearances thus produced, makes it fall short of that 'truth which should charac- terize every work of Art. But while I insist that the imitation of nature is an essential quality of Art, I by no means wish to be understood as meaning that any and every imitation of nature is a work of "Art. Art is the outward expression of the esthetic senti- ment produced in the mind by the contemplation of the grand and beautiful in nature, and it is the imitation in Art of that which creates this sentiment that constitutes its expression. The imitation is the word which utters the sentiment. No Artist need apprehend that any imi- iLECTUKE OF PROF. B1NGHAM. 317 tation of nature within the possibilities of his power will long be taken for what it is not. There are attributes of nature which the highest Art can never possess. In the younger days of Micheal Angelo, soon after his rapidly developing genius had been noised abroad, he visited the studio ot an aged sculptor in Florence while he was en- gaged in giving the finishing touches to the last and no- blest of his works. The old man wishing to have an expression of his judgment upon it, exposed it fully to his view allowing the most favorable light to fall upon it. The young Angelo contemplated it for many minutes with wrapped attention, 116 w*ord passing from his lips. At length turning upon his heel he said it lacks one thing, and immediately disappeared. His words fell as a death blow upon the ears of the old man. He had bestowed upon the work the results of his life-long study in the confident expectation that it would transmit his name to posterity, and associate him in history with the greatest Artists of his day. He became gloomy and despondent, soon sickened and was laid on his death-bed. Learning that Micheal Angelo was again in his vicinity he sent him a message inviting him to visit him. When the young sculptor appeared in his presence he reminded him of the remark which he had made at the close of their previous interview, and earnestly entreated him to name the one thing lacking in what he had fondly re- garded as the crowning work of his life. I meant, said the younger artist, that it lacked the gift of speech and that only! We can well imagine the new life which, at these words instantly sprang up in the soul of the gifted old man, smoothing his passage to that upper and better life to be associated forever with all who love the true and the beautiful. As the powers of man are limited so is Art necessa- 318 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. rily limited in its domain. It can only embody those ap- pearances of nature which are addressed to the eye and exhibited in form and color. Like the work of the grand old Florentine senator it cau faithfully present the human form in all its symmetry and beauty, but it can not breathe into that form a living soul or endow it with speech and motion, It can give us the hue and forms of hills, mountains, lakes and rivers, or old ocean, whether in calm, sunshine or storm, but all that we see in these results of limited power is alike motionless and voiceless. Their is no murmuring in their brooks as they seem to encounter the rocks in their passage. Their clouds are stationary in their skies, their suns and moons never rise or set. There is no sound of lowing coming from their rlocks and herds. All is silent and still, and being so can never be mistaken for actual na- ture. Nevertheless that Art which, within the limited sphere of Art, most nearly resembles actual nature, most clearly expresses the sentiment which actual nature pro- duces in the minds of those who have the taste to relish her beauties. Ruskin, with all his verbal powers of description, failed as an artist, and I have no hesitation in affirming that any man who does not regard the imi- tation of nature as the great essential quality of Art will never make an artist. THE IDEAL IN ART. There are various and conflicting opinions as to what constitutes the ideal in Art. In the minds of those liberally endowed artists whose productions exhibit a wide range of thought, it seems to my judgment to be that general and much embracing idea necessarily de- rived from the loVe and study of nature in her varied and multitudinous aspects, as presented in form and color. It must, however, be necessarily limited by the taste of LECTURE OF PROF. BINGHAM. 310 the artist, which may confine him to what is special rather than to what is general in nature. I say it may be limited and contracted by the taste of the artist. Ar- tists permit themselves to be absorbed only by what they love. And as nature presents herself to them in a thousand phases, they may worship her in few or many. Such of her phases as take possession of their affections ulso take possession of their minds, and form thereon their ideal, it matters not whether it be animate or inan- imate nature, or a portion of either. A Landseer. is cap- tivated by the faithfulness, habits and hairy texture of dogs, and makes them his specialty in Art, being ken- nelled in his mind, as it were, they exclude other sub- jects of Art and become the ideal which governs his pencil. When Sidney Smith was requested by a friend to sit to Landseer for his portrait he replied, u ts thy ser- vant a dog that he should do this thing?" His reply was significant of the apprehension justly entertained that the artist could not avoid giving to his portrait something of the expression which more properly be- longed to his favorites of the canine species. Rosa Bonhier, early in life, fell in love with the kine which furnishes us all, with the milk, butter and cheese which form so large a portion of the aliment which sustains our physical frames. In living with them and caressing them, their/ forms and habits took possession of her mind as they had done of her heart, and formed that ideal, which makes her pictures of cattle far transcend in ex- cellence those of Paul Potter or any of her predecessors. I cannot believe that the ideal in Art, as is supposed by many, is a specific mental form existing in the mind of the artist more perfect than any prototype in nature, and that to be a great a'rtist he must look within him for a model and close his eyes upon external nature. Such 320 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. a menl.il form would he a fixed and determined idea, ad- mitting of no variations, such as we find in diversified nature and in the works of artists most distinguished in their profession. An artist guided by such a form would necessarily repeat in every work exactly the same lines and the same expression. _^ To the beautiful belongs an endless variety. It is seen not only in symmetry and elegance of form, in youth and health, but is often quite as fully apparent in de- crepit old age. It is found in the cottage of the peasant as well as in the palace of kings. It is seen in all the relations, domestic and municipal, of a virtuous people, and in all that harmonizes man with his Creator. The ideal of the great artist, therefore, embraces all of the beautiful which presents, itself in form and color, whether characterized by elegance and symmetry or by any quality within the wide and diversified domain of the beautiful. Merc symmetry of form finds no place in the works of Rembrant, Teniers, Ostade, and others of a kindred school. Their men and women fall im- measurably below that order of beauty which charac- terizes the sculptures of classic Greece. But they ad- dress themselves none the less to our love of the beauti- ful, and none the less tend to nourish the development and growth of those tastes which prepare us for the en- joyment of that higher life which is to begin when our mortal existence shall end. All the thought which in the course of my studies, I have been able to give to the subject, has led me to conchidefthat the ideal in Art is but the impressions made upon the mind of the artist by the beautiful or Art subjects in external nature, and that our Art power is the ability to receive and retain these impressions so clearly and distinctly as to be able to duplicate them LKCTUKE OF PROF. BIN OH AM. 3'Jl upon our canvas.) So far from these impressions thus engraved upon our memory being superior to nature, they are but the creatures of nature, and depend upon her for existence as fully as the image iu a mirror de- pends upon that which is before it. It is true that a work of Art eminating from these impressions may be, and generally is, tinged by some peculiarity belonging to the mind of the artist, just as some mirrors by a slight convex in their surface give reflections which do not exactly accord with the objects before them. Yet any obvious and radical departure from its prototypes m nature will justly condemn it as a work of Art. I have frequently been told, in conversation with persons who have obtained their ideas of Art from books, that an artist should give to his productions something more than nature presents to the eye. That in painting a portrait for instance, he should not be satisfied with giving a true delineation of the form and features of his subject, with all the lines of his face which mark his individuality, but in addition to these should impart to his work the soul of his sitter. I cannot but think that this is exacting from an artist that which rather transcends the limits of his powers, great as they may be. As for myself, I must* confess, that if my life and even my eternal salvation depended upon such an achievement, I would look forward to nothing better than death and everlasting misery, in that place prepared for the unsaved. According to all of our existing ideas of a soul, there is nothing material in its composition. The manufacture, therefore, of buch a thing out of the earthen pigments which lie upon my palate would be a miracle entitling me to rank as the equal of the Almighty himself. Even if I could perform such a miracle, I would be robbing mv sitter of the most valua- 322 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOUKI. ble part of his nature and giving it to the work of my own hands. There are lines which are to be seen on every man's face which indicate to a certain extent the nature of the spirit within him. But these lines are not the spirit which they indicate any more than the sign above the entrance to a store is the merchandize within. These lines upon the face embody what artists term its ^expression, because they reveal the thoughts, emotions, and to some extent the mental and moral character of the man. The clear perception and practiced eye of the artist will not fail to detect these; and by tracing similar lines upon the portrait, he gives to it the expression which belongs to the face of his sitter, in doing this, so far from transferring to his canvass the soul of his sub- ject, he merely gives such indications of a soul as appear in certain lines of the human face; if he gives them cor- rectly, he has done all that Art can do. THE UTILITY OF ART. If man were a mere animal whose enjoyments did not extend beyond the gratification of the appetites of such a being Art might justly be regarded as a thing of very little importance. In the elevated sense in which we are discussing it, it addresses itself solely to th*at portion of man which is the breath of the Eternal which lives forever, which is capable of endless growth and progress, and the re- quirements of which are peculiar to itself. The beauti- ful, and all that is embraced in what is termed esthetics, together with all that contributes to mental develop- ment is the natural food of the soul, and is as essential to its growth, expansion and happiness, as is the daily bread we consume, to the health and life of our animal nature. The appetite for this spiritual food, like that for the nourishment essential to our material growth, is a LECTURE OP PROF. BINQHAM. 328 part of our nature. As the latter turns the lips of the new born infant to the breast of its mother, the former exhibits itself in its love of the beautiful. Before it is capable of thought or reason, its eyes will sparkle with intense delight at the presentation of a beautiful bouquet, while it would look upon a nugget of gold richer than the mines of California ever produced, with utter indif- ference. As the growth, strength and development of the body depend upon the food demanded by its natural appetites, so must the growth and development of the soul, and its capacity for enjoyment, depend upon the spiritual foo.d demanded by those tastes peculiar to and a part of its nature. The soul is as necessarily dwarfed by withholding from it its proper nourishment, as is the body from a like cause. The natural wants of both should be con- stantly supplied, that the child as il grows in stature may also wax strong in spirit. If we regard that as useless which meets the demands of the esthetic tastes of our nature, then we must regard God as exhibiting no wisdom in decorating nature in so lavish a manner with the grand, the sublime, and beautiful. In giving us the fruit he might have omitted the beautiful bloom which heralds its coming. In* giving us the rain which moistens our fields and makes our rivers, he might have withheld the accompanying arch which spans the heavens and exhibits to our delighted gaze its perfect symmetry in form and unequaled glory in color. Pie might have spread over land and sea and sky a dull and monotonous hue, instead of enriching them with that infinitude of the beautiful, which they ceaselessly unveil to the eye of man. All this display ol the grand and the beautiful seems to be a divine recognition of the wants of our spiritual nature and a benevolent purpose to supply them . 3$4 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. The absence of Art in any nation will ever be a mark of its ignorance and degradation. While the highest Art will be the chaplet which crowns the highest civilization, its uses extend far beyond the grat- ification of our inherent love of the beautiful. As a language, its expressions are clearer than any which can be embodied in alphabetical forms, or that proceeds from articulate sounds. It also has the advantage of being everywhere understood by all nations, whether savage or civilized. Much that is of great importance in the history of the world would be lost if it were not for Art. Great empires which have arisen, flourished and disappeared, are now chiefly known by their imperishable records of Art. It is indeed the chief agent in securing national immortality. In the remote and prehistoric periods of the past, there have doubtless been nation? who gave no Encouragement to Art, but like the baseless fabrics of vision they have disappeared and left not a wreck be- hind. And this glorious Republic of ours, stretching its liberal sway over a vast continent, will perhaps be best known in the distant ages of the future by the imperish- able monuments of Art which we may have the taste and the genius to erect. METAPHYSICS. A LECTURE BY SAMUEL S. LAWS, PROFESSOR OF METAPHYSICS IN THE UNIVERSITY OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI, MAY 10, 1879. There is only too much reason to apprehend that the bare mention of metaphysics, as the subject of this lecture, suggests to some minds the question whether anything really serious or intelligible is intended. The prejudice against this subject is not unfrequently veiled under the following burlesque definition, credited to the blacksmith of Glamis: u Twa folk disputin thegither; he that's listenin disna ken what he that's speakin means, And he that's speakin disna ken what he means himsel that's metaphysics!" The irrepressible wit of Sydney Smith was indulged in ridicule of it. It is related that, when lecturing on one of its topics, he exclaimed, in his deep, sonorous and warning voice, "Ladies and gentle- men, there is a word of dire sound and horrible import, which I fain would have kept concealed if I possibly could, but as this is not feasible I shall meet the danger at once and get out of it as well as I can. The word to which I allude is that very tremendous one of Metaphys- ics, which in a lecture on moral philosophy, seems likely to produce as much alorm as the cry of fire in a crowded 826 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. playhouse; when Belvidera is left to cry by herself, and every one saves himself in the best manner he can. I must beg of my audience, however, to sit quiet, and in the mean time make use of the language which the manager would probably adopt on such an occasion: I am sure, ladies and gentlemen, there is not the smallest degree of danger.'* This prejudice against metaphysics has not been confined to the rude and vulgar, either of the present or of the past. By placing the fool's cap on the head of Socrates, the ignorant derision of the Athe- nian populace culminated in his unrighteous death sen- tence by their judges. The spirit of this scene still lives. Once, metaphysics was named and esteemed the queen of the sciences; but what has been the fate of this prin- cess? Our most distinguished modern scientists have been reenacting the part of Aristophanes, with this dif- ference, that he employed ridicule against Socrates, avowedly in the interest of conservatism, whilst these votaries of nature have made a mistaken use of it in the supposed interest of progress. Were Shaftbury's crite- rion valid, that ridicule is the test of truth, it might legitimate this style of warfare; but more than once have other than groundlings with bloody hands joined in driving from the world's stage the brightest impersona- tions of the true, the beautiful and the good. Scientific, no less than religious truth, has had its martyrs; but through the ages, the two, properly understood, have never been in conflict with each other, whilst both have been in antagonism with ignorance, their common and implacable foe. Metaphysics is their common and faith- ful friend. With united voice the lovers of truth might peal forth the words of Tennyson, as the anthem of the centuries "Ring out the old, Ring in the new; Ring out the false, Ring in the true." L.ECTURE DF PRES. LAWS. 327 But it must not be . forgotten that the old is not always the false, nor the new always the true, as was illustrated in a notice once given of a book perhaps one of the popular contributions to modern science in which notice it was remarked, by way of commenda- tion, that the book in question had in it much that was new and also much that was true; and by way of criti- cism, that what was true in it was old and what was new in it was false. The only rational rule of mental pro- cedure is to "prove all things," whether new or old, and "hold fast to that which is good." By the faithful asser- tion of this catholic principle of judgment, we loyally venture to believe that our queen is destined to recover the crown and royal state of which she has been de- prived, and to hold again her position in the universi- ties of the world , less exclusively and pretentiously, no doubt, and yet with an empire subject to her restored sceptre, embracing whole kingdoms which, under the old regime, were not yet discovered. The science of the present reveals, daily, that it is not self-sufficient, and that, just as a building of large and imposing dimen- sions requires beneath its super-structure a foundation that sinks out of the view of the senses, so science rests on the transcendental and unseen realities of the world of metaphysics. Faith is more profound than reason. As a corrective of the misconceptions and ignorance which generate the prejudice to which reierence has been made, and as a means of enlisting an intelligent interest in- our subject, it will be my aim to present it in as elemen- tary and complete a manner as the limits of the hour and the surrounding circumstances will permit. It is due to the body of students of this University, that the one in charge of this disparaged department, which has been dropped or omitted from the curriculum of some of the $2 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. leading institutions of our day, should disabuse their minds of those false impressions which may disincline them to enter on this line of work. What may induce neglect of this study may also perniciously serve as a plausible apology for what should properly be esteemed a disgraceful ignorance. Moreover, as colleagues in the faculty of this University, each one by voicing his own department, not only the more effectively serves the stu- dents, but also his colleagues. Surely, one of the leading advantages of such a course of lectures as this one in which we have been engaged, is its measurable realiza- tion of the helpfulness of associated labor. There are three words, viz., metaphysics^, philoso- phy and ontology of which you will please take note as having identically the same significance. What is to follow amounts to little more th^n an exposition of the one true meaning of these three terms. I hasten to in- dicate that meaning. The word metaphysics has a wide and also a narrow sense, and we must guard ourselves against equivocation by an explanation. In its narrow sense, it means all the sciences of mind, as distinguished from the sciences of matter; but in its broad and generic sense, it presup- poses an acquaintance with these special sciences of both mind and matter and designates the science of being or an inquiiy into the nature of knowledge itself, especially with reference to the substantial reality of mind, matter and God. A chair of metaphysics takes account of both of these aspects of the subject, but the present lecture is intended to set forth the one last named, that is, metaphysics proper as distinguished from metaphysics in the popular sense a* designating a limited group of the special sciences. The word philosophy is also ap- plied indifferently and equivocally to the special sciences LECTURE OF PBES. LAWS. 5 of matter and also of mind; but ontology has a less pop- ular use and technically accords with metaphysics proper, which is our present theme. It has been al- ready announced that it is the intention on the present occasion, without further notice, to use these three words in the same sense and that their most profound and im- portant one, *s will appear more fully from what follows. In didactic teaching a definition has great virtue, aj the opening of a discussion; it is like a port for which a voyager sets sail, as it gives definite regulation to his movements. But it is only at the end of the inquiry, that the pupil is supposed to be in a situation to criticise, modify or even supplant the definition, in the light of his own knowledge of the subject. The faith of the pupil at the outset is only provisional. Each of the above words has its own interesting etymology aad legend, but it is not their verbal but their realistic significance which is at present our chief con- cern. There have been numerous definitions given of the thing meant by metaphysics proper, philosophy or ontology ; but this may be safely said of them all that,how- ever diversely this ontology may bcviewed, it is uniform- ly recognized as a form of knowledge. This broad fact may be serviceable, for we are able to distinguish three entirely distinct forms or phases of knowledge, and by so doing to individualize metaphysics in such a manner as to extricate it from what might otherwise be an inex- tricable confusion; and such a statement may have sub- stantially the value of a definition, whether one be form- ulated or not. The first of these three kinds of knowl- edge is empirical. This is simple matter of fact knowl- edge and constitutes the experience of individuals and peoples,covering their inner as well as their outer life it 830 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. is the spontaneous life of the world and constitutes the raw materials of its biography, its literature and its histo- ry. In its second phase, knowledge is scientific or modal. In this phase it is the product of reflection and generali- zation, for science consists of the systematic classification of the laws of phenomena. No amount of knowledge, whether confused or classified, abstract or concrete, con- stitutes science till laws are grasped and coordinated. But laws are the mere modes of the coexistence, continuance and succession of phenomena in time and space. The final and third division of knowledge into philosophic as distinguished from the empirical and scientific, is the one which invites our attention on this occasion. Empiri- cal knowledge, in its childlike spontaneity and simplicity, takes no rational account of laws and causes, whereas, philosophy views things in relation to their causes and first principles, whilst science views phenomena in their uniform relations to each other in their successions and coordinations of time and space. The explanation of a phenomenon of experience from observation or experi- ment, may be either scientific or philosophic, it is scientific, when the phenomenon is referred to its law; it is philosophic, when referred to its cause or sufficient reason. Science does not consist in a search for causes but in a search for laws, as being the formulation of the effects resulting from the uniform action of causes. The laws of nature properly considered have no causal force; they are correctly viewed as only "the paths along which the forces of nature move." The philosophy of nature is its aetiology ; the science of nature is its modality. It is not meant that experience is ignorant of caus- ality and its uniformities, but only that this spontaneous form of knowledge is in the concrete and that our spon- taneous intuitions are quite free from abstract reflection LECTURE OF PKBS. LAWS. 381 and construction. Nor is it meant that the scientist does properly or can possibly ignore causes, but only that, to the extent that he has or holds them in contemplation, it is not as a scientist but as a philosopher that he does so. The scientist is more than his science, is not a mere scientist. Nor is it meant that the philosopher ignores experience and science, but that as a philosopher he lifts their contents to a higher plane. In each case, the man of experience, the man of science and the man of phi- losophy is somewhat more than himself, for the same soul, in its various stages of unfolding, is the one treasure house of all this threefold wealth of knowledge. Individuals, like nations and ages, pass from spontaneity to reflection and then, by criticism, discover a chaos or a continent. Ours is a critical age and the angel of truth is already calling to the watchmen, what of the night? and in the dawning of the morning of a day brighter than any on record, she is treading the firm earth with a surer step than ever before. With confidence may we say, in the bold language of Milton, "Let her and false- hood grapple; who ever knew truth put to the worse,, in a free and open encounter." Empirical knowledge answers the question what? scientific knowledge answers the question how? and philosophic, metaphysical or ontological knowledge answers the question why? The what, the bow and the why are not in isolation but are interdependent; and the true unity of knowledge is realized in their recipro- cal communion; the first phase is phenomenal; the second modal and the third noumenal : These distinctions, especially in their scientific and philosophic phases, seem to have struggled in the mind of Aristotle for articulate recognition and utterance, as is seen in such passages as the following from his Meta- physics: 832 T3N1VEBSITY OF MISSOURI. . "But in every respect is the science of ontology strictly a science of that which is first or elemental, both on which the other things depend and through which they are denominated. If then, this is substance, the philosopher or metaphysician must needs be in possession of the first principles and causes of sub-; stances. * * * But this is the same with none of those which are called particular sciences; for none of the rest of the sciences ex- amines universally concerning entity." The importance of these distinctions appears also in such passages as the following, from the Hegelian Schwegler's History of Philosophy : "In what, then, is philosophy distinguished from these sciences, e. g. from the science of astronomy, of medicine, or of right? Certainly not in that it has a different material to work upon. Its material is precisely the same as that of the different empirical sciences. The construction and disposition of the uni- verse, the arrangement and functions of the human body, the doctrines of property, of rights and of the state all these mate- rials belong as truly to philosophy as to their appropriate sciences. That which is given in the world of experience, that which is real, is the content likewise of philosophy. It is not, therefore, in its material but in its form, in its method, in its mode of knowledge, that philosophy is to be distinguished from the empirical sciences. These latter derive their material directly irom experience ; the/ find it at hand and take it up just as they find it. Philosophy, on the other hand, is never satisfied with recieving that which ig given simply as it is given but rather follows it out to its ultimate grounds ; it examines evei-y individual thing with reference to a final principle and considers it as one link in the whole chain of knowledge. In this way philosophy removes from the individual thing given in experience, its immediate, individual, and accidental character ; from the sea of empirical individualities, it brings out that which is common to ail. In short, philosophy examines the totality of experience in the form of a organic system in harmony with the laws of thought." (pp. 11-12.) There is in this passage a certain interblending of the scientific and philosophical, which the above three- fold distinction enables one easily to discern and rectify. This wisdom, as it was termed by the earliest specu- lators of Greece; this philosophy or love of wisdom, as a later age more modestly termed it; this metaphysics, as it was named from the chance designation of the earliest formal treatise, that of Aristotle, on the subject; or this ontology, as defined by etymological refinement call If 4 Jt *Si 7 ^ L.ECTURK OF PBE8. 'lUAWS.' * / /- V > , 988 y /- this third and final form or phase of knowledge by what name we may, in all cases it seeks for the foundations of the edifice of human knowledge; the ultimate and en- during realities the noumena attainable by our intel- ligence, on which depends the certitude of what we know. Metaphysics transcends every particular science, whether of mind or matter, and every experience, and grasps what lies beyond and what, through the criticism of science and experience we learn, makes science and experience themselves possible. The real problem which metaphysics undertakes to solve, is this, the nature and ultimate conditions of our knowledge,in its last analysis. Is it real? is it illusory? is it phenomenal only? is it relative or absolute? has it objective as well as sub- jective validity? What is the ultimate, the final and the satisfying ground on which the superstructure of science and the accumulations of human experience, in their most comprehensive sense, repose? We seek an answer. Our accepted answer must be to us our philosophy; and hence, right or wrong, our philosophy is our theory of the universe. To us a universe unknown would be as zero; and it is real to us only as known. Theorize we must; facts without theory are dead rubbish ; our nature demands science and philosophy, and in each, theory i* more than hypothesis a theory is a vindicated hypoth- esis. It is now proposed to take a brief survey of the leading hypotheses of the ages, set forth in the attempt to solve the problem of knowledge: notice will first b taken of those various views which, in varying measure, are esteemed partial, inadequate and false. The one view which I conceive to be true and valid and alone entitled to recognition and consideration as a theory, will be reserved to the last. The truth is imperishable, 334 UN1VFJRSITY OP MISSOURI. it is one and catholic and ever, like the sun, bears on its front a luminous glow. The soul hungers for it as the bread of its lite, and nothing else can satisfy it. It is hoped that the conciseness of this survey enforced by the circumstances may occasion clearness rather than obscurity. All the philosophies which have gone to record may be reduced to two, which are fundamentally dis- tinct and antagonistic, viz., nihilism and realism, or as I shall take the liberty of calling them, phenomenal- ism and noumenalism. These two opposing views pre- sent the negative and positive poles of speculation; one is destructive and the other constructive. I have a sweet or bitter taste, the smell of a pleasant or offensive odor, the sight of a beautiful or disgusting image, experience a feeling of joy or sorrow: the phe- nomenalist admits the appearances as phenomena of consciousness, but will not allow to these appearances any substantive reality, nor accept of either mind or mat- ter as revealed or evidenced in any act of knowledge whatever. The phenomena are only as shadows with- out substance, and as dreams without a dreamer. The one point in common to all noumenalists is that the uni- verse of being is something other than an illusion, a cheating mirage, a phantasm or dream, and that in the act of knowledge we grasp phenomena plus substantial reality, that at least a substantial self exists and endures amid all the mutations oi the universe. But what fol- lows will serve to render this general and abstract enun- ciation easily understood. i. NIHILISM. It is because the spirit of destruction without posi- tive aim has animated the discontented elements of European society, especially of late in Russia, that these LECTURE OF PRES. LAWS. 396 communistic agitators have been called nihilists. Their spirit is precisely the same as that of the nihilistic phi- losophy ; they Seek the destruction of what is not satis- fying, without offering to substitute something better in its place. In dealing with perishable objects such as the products of nature and art, the work of destruction has a fearful and irreparable advantage. A child with a hatchet may in a few hours destroy the great oak whose growth is the work of centuries. But in dealing with principles and things ot a rational nature, the conditions of vitality are not so precarious. Truth itself is inde- structible; and this is the stuff out of which knowledge, the fact which we seek to explain, is made, for all real and enduring knowledge, all that deserves the name of knowledge, consists of apprehended truth. Hence the repeated recoils and recoveries of thought from the misleadings of error, and the tireless renewal of efforts, after repeated failures, to gain the truth in its simplicity, in its fadeless beauty and soul -satisfy ing power, notwith- standing it is so often and so sadly misunderstood, mis- represented and dishonored by errorists. Nihilism muti- lates the truth of the fact of knowledge in that it allows no reality, true or false, material or spiritual, to aught beneath or beyond apppearances ; and even phenomena are speculatively esteemed and treated as illusory. This view is confessedly not accordant with man's spontane- ous activity. It is, then, the unnatural progeny of a dis- torted, partial and mistaken interpretation of man's na- ture; but as man is an integral part of the universe, so far forth as that universe in its totality stands within the vision of knowledge, no hypothesis is capable of vindi- cation which fails to provide, without omission or distor- tion, a complete exposition of all the facts of man's na- ture. 896 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Tn the domain of speculation there are three name* pre-eminently associated with nihilism, viz., Pyrrho., Hume and Fichte. Even Berkeley a"nd Kant were realists. Protagoras, the sophist, is sometimes individual- feed as the representative of the dogmatic and Pyrrho as representing the sceptical or nescient phase of nihilism. Dogmatic nihilism denied the existence of aught beyond appearances and sceptical nihilism denied the knowableness of aught beyond, i. e. were it true that something other than mere sensible appearances exists, still we cannot know it: or as another has ex- pressed it "The difference, therefore, between Prota- goras, the sophist, and Pyrrho, the sceptic, was* this- that while the former maintained the universe to be a mere appearance destitute of any answering reality : the latter simply held that it was an appearance of which the reality ivas unknown" But as both of these phases of nihilism virtually emerge from the fragments and reports of Pyrrho transmitted to us, his name properly stands first on the roll of the representatives of this daring speculation. Diogenes Laertius, in his "Lives of Eminent Philosophers," gives a third more space to Pyrrho than to either Socrates or Aristotle. Let us. attend to some extracts, chiefly from this ancient sketch. Diogenes says : "The Pyrrhonean system, then, is a simple explanation of ap- pearances, or of notions of every kind by means of which, com- paring one thing with another, one arriyes at the conclusion, that there is nothing in all these notions but contradiction and confu- sion." Again: "The difficulties which they, (the Pyrrhoneans,) suggest, relating to the agreement of what appears to the senses, and what is comprehended by the intellect, divide themselves into ten modes of argument, according to which the subject and object of our knowledge are incessantly changing." After canvassing these and other modes, he continues: "As to the contradiction* which are founded in those speculations, when they are pointed out in what way each fact is convincing, they (the Pyrrhonists) then, by the same means, take away all belief in it. * * Am? I.KCJTURK OK PKES. LAWS. 337 they prove that the reasons opposite to those on which our assent 18 founded are entitled to equal belief." * * * He continues: "These skeptics, then, deny the existence of any test of any dem- onstration, of any test of truth, of any signs, or causes, or motion or learning, and of anything 1 as naturally or intrinsically good or bad. For he (Pyrrho) used to sav that nothing was honorable, or disgraceful, or just, or unjust." And on the same principle he asserted that there was no such thing- as downright truth; but that men did every thing in consequence of custom and law. "For that nothing was any more this than that." Again: But Democritus says that there is no test whatever of appearances, and also that they are not criteria of truth. Moreover, the dogmatic philosophers attack the cri- terion derived from appearances, and say that the same objects at different times present different appearances, con- sequently, if the sceptic (Pyrrhonist) does not discriminate between different appearances, he does nothing at all. If, on the contrary, he determines in favor of either, then, say they, he o longer attaches equal value to all appearances. The sceptics (i. e. Pyrrhonists) reply to this, that in the presence of different appearances, they content themselves wUh saying that there are many appearances, and that il is precisely because things present themselves under different characters, that they affirm the e\i>- tence of appearances. Perhaps our opponent (the dogmatist) will say, Are these appearances trustworthy or deceitful ? We (sceptics) answer that, if they are trustworthy, the other side has nothing to object to those to whom the contrary appearance pre- sents itself. For, as he who says that such and such a thing ap- pears to him, is trustworthy; so also is he who says that the con- trary appears to him. And if appearances are deceitful, then they do not deserve any confidence when they assert what appears to them to be true. * * From all of which it follows, that the first principles of all things have no reality. Pyrrho (384-288 .or 360-270 B. C.,) is reported to have lived to the age of ninety or more. It will be ob- served from the dates given that he was a contemporary of Plato (430-348 B. C.,) and also of Aristotle (384-322 B. C.) whom he survived, at the least, for more than . thirty years. Like the great church historian Neander, he is said to have "lived in a most blameless manner with his sister." Having followed in his youth the business of a huxter, he then became a painter and a 838 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURT. student of Democritus in the school of Anaxarchus, whom he accompanied in the train of Alexander the Great, as far as India. He was a native of Elis, and, on his return to that place, he is said to have heen made a priest of the temple by the good will of his fellow citizens. Pyrrho himself, like Socrates, wrote noth- ing, but Diogenes says 'his friends Timon, and others of that class have left books. All these men were called Pyrrhoneans from their master: and perse- vered in overthrowing all the dogmas of every sect, while they themselves asserted nothing.' Whilst Sextus Empiricus, the physician, who flourished about 200 of the Christian Era, is the great storehouse of information and arguments on ancient scepticism which has been revamped in modern times, Pyrrho chiefly lives in what is preserved from his most eminent pupil Timon, a physician of Phlius, who wrote three books of satirical poems in which all the Greek philoso- phers are reviled as babblers except Xenophanes, the Hegel of Greece, who, in his esteem, sought the truth and Pyrrho who found it. Said Timon in the spirit of his master, "That a thing is sweet I do not affirm, but only admit that it appears so." "Again, we feel that fire burns, but we suspend our judgment as to whether it has a burning nature." In a word, as it is pithely summed up by Ueberweg "There exist no fixed dif- ferences among things." Such is Pyrrhonism. The supreme psychological characteristic of this ancient nihilistic speculation is the assumed suspension or indifferency of judgment under the full blaze of evi- dence, however pertinent and cogent, whereas, by an inexorable law of the mind, adequate evidence appre- hended, necessarily decides the judgment. There is no one respect in which the passivity of the intellect is I/ECTURB OF PBES. LAWS. ' 839 more strikingly revealed than in its submission to evidence. "These sceptics," says Diogenes, "deny the existence of any demonstration; of any test of truth." The blinding and perverting force of selfish passion and prejudice where moral issues are involved, being here out of view, the submission of the intellect to evi- dence is as stated. T^he human mind that would not be compelled to acquiesce in the demonstration that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles or in the axiom that the whole is equal to all its parts, would be pronounced imbecile or idiotic; and a like failure to discern the equally valid moral distinctions as to things right and wrong, true and false, good and bad, would, under the kindly influences of our Christian civi- lization, be cared for and treated as that of a lunatic. Three centuries of Greek speculation preceded Pyrrho, extending from Thales downward and embrac- ing the Academic, the Peripatetic, (308 B. C.) the Stoic and (306 B. C.) the Epicurean Schools, with all of whose founders he was a contemporary; and as he studied these pre-Socratic and post-Socratic systems, his. mind sank into doubt and negation not the Socratic doubt of the Academics, which balanced between the choice of positive probabilities; much less the doubt of the Cartesians, which has become the positive guarantee of certainty in our modern philosophy; but the doubt of unreality, lor to him "the fir^t principles of all things have no reality," which doubt leaves the mind a blank, or rather, a camera of unsubstantial images. His critical judgment could easily detect untenable ele- ments in the schemes of his predecessors and contempo- rarie*,and three alternatives were* plainly open to him, (i) either the indiscriminate rejection of all, (2) an elect ic reconstruction by choosing the good and rejecting the 840 . TJN1VBKSITY OF MISSOURI. bad, or, (3) the positive substitution of a new and supposed better creation of thought. But Pyrrho's whole being moved away from the positive to^the negative pole, he re- jected all; and the issue in his mind was/as wehaveseen r the dreary subversion of all speculative knowledge, the denial of the existence and knowableness of all reality and of truth itself, for which he admitted no criterion and no distinctive character. It was speculatively the black, bottomless, hopeless and dreamy doubt of nihilism. But human nature is often more sensible than human reason; its spontaneous activities often brush away like cobwebs men's fine spun speculations. Naturally enough Pyrrho practiced a better philosophy than he taught. Aenesidemus, probably of the first century, A. D., says that *Pyrrho studied philosophy on the principle of suspending his judgment on all points, without, however, on any occasion acting in an im- prudent manner, or doing anything without due consideration, i. e., suspending judgment in all mat- ters which do not refer to living and the pres- ervation of life. Accordingly, say they, we avoid some things and we seek others, following: custom in that; and we obey the laws.* Hence it is related that when, on a certain occasion, Pyrrho was driven back by a dog which was attacking him, he said to some one who blamed him for being discomposed, "that it was a difficult thing entirely to put off humanity ; but that a man ought to strive with all his power to counteract circum- stances with his actions if possible, and at all events with his reason." Horace says that one cannot drive out nature with a pitch-fork, and the law of self-preservation is by Pyrrho conceded to be stronger than theory and to bring the "actions" of the sceptic into discord with his "reason." J^BCTURE OF PREP* I-.AW8. $41 Hence, u he is represented on the one hand as a marvel of folly, on the other as a miracle of wisdom." For example: Diogenes says that "he never shunned anything and never guarded against anything, encount* ering every thing, even waggons for instance, and preci- pices, and dogs, and everything of that sort; committing nothing whatever to his senses. So that he used to ba saved by his friends who accompanied him." But, on the other hand, Timon in one verse represents him a* "The only man as happy as a god," Such contradictoriness of representation implies some- thing more than an imperfection of the record ; it seem* to have arisen from the practical and confessed impossi- bility ot acting in harmony with his theory. It is not surprising that Pyrrho is differently esti- mated by different philosophers, for the portraiture of every one is necessarily somewhat personal, owing to his remains being. second-hand, fragmentary and incon- sistent, so that each one is left in good part to make his sketch from the colors on his own pallet. The fact is, the name of Pyrrho is highly typical, but the salient points of the above extracts and estimates sufficiently in- dividualize his representative character as the father of scepticism. The paternity of many subsequent specula- tions is traceable to him. In the iyth century, the authors of the Port Royal Logic placed the following estimate on this system : There are no absurdities too groundless to find supporters. Whoever determines to deceive the world, may be sure of finding people who are willing enough to be deceived, and the most absurd follies always find minds to which they are adapted. After seeing what a number .are infatuated with the follies of judicial astrology^ and that even grave persons treat this subject seriously, we need not be surprised at anything more. * * * We find others, on the contrary, who, having light enough to know that there are a number of things obscure and uncertain, and wishing, from another kind of vanity, to show that they are not led away by the 842 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. popular credulity take a pride in maintaining that there is nothing certain. They thus free themselves from the labor of examina- tion, and on this evil principle they bring into doubt the most firmly established truths, and even religion itself. This is the source of Pyrrhonism (or scepticism) another extravagance of the human mind. * * * True reason places all things in the rank which belongs to them; it questions those which are doubtful, rejects those which are false, and acknowledges in good faith, those which are evident, without being embarrassed by the vain reasons of the Pyrrhonists, which never could, even in the minds of those who proposed them, destroy the reasonable assurance we have of many things. None ever seriously doubted the existence of the sun, the earth, the moon, or that the whole was greater than the parts. We may indeed easily say outwardly with the lips that we doubt of all these things, because it is possible for us to lie; but we cannot say this in our hearts. Thus Pyrrhonism is not a sect composed of men persuaded of what they say, but a tect of liars. Hence they often contradict themselves in 'uttering their opinion, since it is impossible for their hearts to agree with their language. We see this in Montaigne, who attempted to revive this -sect in the last (i6th) century. * * * Thus these dis- orders of the mind the one leading to an inconsiderate belief of what is obscure and uncertain, the other to the doubting of what is clear and certain have nevertheless a common origin, which is the neglect of attention which is necessary in order to discover the truth. pp. 2-6. On the contrary, Prof. Baynes in his note on this passage of the Port Royal Logic, holds that Pyrrho has done good service to philosophy, and that his "teaching consisted in showing that, since knowledge supposes relations, absolute knowledge is a contradic- tion." But it must have been a questionable service, for in his formal dialectics, Pyrrho seems to have set at de- fiance the law of identity, by repudiating all fixedness of predication; and also the law of contradiction, by holding that contradictions are entitled to equal belief and that "demonstration" is a fiction, so that "nothing is any- more this than that;" and as to the matter or content of his logical forms, he held that the "first principles of all things have no reality;" and in addition to confounding all rational distinctions, he equally reduced all moral dis- tinctions to a chaos by denying that anything is "honor- LECTURE OF PRES, LAWS. 343 able or disgraceful, just or unjust, good or bad." Cer~ tainly language must have lost all reliable significance, or such radical and sweeping negations are tantamount to the overthrow and annihilation not alone of "absolute knowledge" but of all knowledge. In its speculative attitude as well as in its suicidal practical recoil, by an appeal to the irrepressible spontaneity of human nature in its common sense utterances and activities, Pyrrho- nism is a surprisingly complete anticipation of Hume. In fact, this Scotch sceptic and historian, who, as a phi- losopher, may be fairly viewed as Pyrrho's alter ego, seems to have borrowed the pallet of the Greek painter; and our Scotch professor certainly gives us a curious surprise in making Pyrrho the prototype of Hamilton instead of Hume. Let us now make an immediate and silent descent across an interval of two thousand years, extending from the Greek Pyrrho, reputed "the true founder of scepti- cism," to the Scotch Hume (1711-1776), reputed "the prince of sceptics." The few extracts which will now be adduced, to reveal and epitomise his views, arc of un- doubted authenticity and genuineness, being in these re- spects unlike the conjectural extracts respecting Pyrrho: It seems evident, that men are carried by a natural instinct or prepossession to repose faith in their senses; and that, without any reasoning, or even almost before the use of reason, we always sup- pose an external universe, which depends not on our perception, but would exist, though we and every sensible creature were ab- sent or annihilated. Even the animal creation are governed by a like opinion, and preserve this belief of external objects, in all their thoughts, designs and actions. It seems also evident, that when men follow t his blind and powerful instinct of nature, they always suppose the verv images presented by the senses, to be the external objects, and 'never en- tertain any suspicion that the one are nothing but representations of the other. This very table which we see white, and which we feel hard, is believed to exist, independent of our perception, and ..to be something external to our mind which perceive* it. Our presence bestows not being on it: our absence does not annihilate 344 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. ti. It preserves its existence uniform and entire, independent of the situation of intelligent beings, who perceive or contemplate it. But this universal and primary opinion of all men is soon de- stroyed by the slightest philosophy, which teaches us that nothing can ever be present to the mind but an image or perception, and that the senses are only the inlets through which these images are conveved, without being able to produce any immediate inter- course between the mind and the object. The table, which we see, seems to diminish, as we remove further from it: but the real table, which exists, independent of us, suffers no alteration:, it was therefore nothing but its image which Tras present to the mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason ; and no man who reflects ever doubted, that the existences which we sonsider, when we say, this house and that tree, are nothing but perceptions in the mind, and fleeting copies or representations of other existence? which remain uniform and independent. In all the incidents of life, we ought still to preserve our scep- ticism. If we believe that fire warms, or water refreshes, it is only because it costs too miicil pains to think otherwise. Not only are the senses thus subverted but reason herself, as will immediately appear. Says Hume: I have proved that these same principles, when carried further, and applied to every new reflex judgment, must, by continually diminishing the original evidence, at last reduce it to nothing, and utterly subvert all belief and opinion. Again : Reason first appears in possession of the throne, prescribing laws, and imposing maxims, with an absolute sway and authority. Her enemy, therefore, is obliged to take shelter under her protec- tion, and by making use of rational arguments to prove the falla- ciousness and imbecility of reason, produces, in a manner, a patent under her hand and seal. This patent has at first an authority of reason, from which it is derived. But as it is supposed to be con- tradictory to reason, it gradually diminishes the force of that gov- erning power and its own at' the same time; till at last thej both vanish away into nothing, by a regular and just diminution. "Nothing," nothingness or nihilism is, then, in Mr. Hume's own language, the upshot of his philosophy and he follows it to its utmost consequences: I am uneasy to think I approve of one object, and disapprove of another; call one thing beautiful, and another deformed; de- cide concerning truth and falsehood, reason and folly, without knowing upon what principles I proceed. ' * * For I have already shown that the understanding, when it acts alone, and ac- cording to its most general principles, entirely subverts itself, and leaves not the lowest degree of evidence in any proposition, either in philosophy or common life. LECTURE OF PRE6. t perfectly my sceptical disposition and principles. * * No: if I must be' a fool, as all those who reason or believe any thing certainly are, my follies shall at least be natural and agreeable. The foregoing extracts must suffice for indicating in the main our estimate of Hume on the present occasion,, 'although it differs from that of some able critics. Hamilton credits Hume with only a negative aim and result. He says "The sceptic, qua sceptic, cannot himself lay down his premises; he can only accept them from the dogmatist." * * "Hume was a sceptic; that is, he accepted the premises afforded him by the dogmatist and carried these premises to their legitimate consequences. To blame Hume, therefore, for not hav- ing doubted of his borrowed principles, is to blame the sceptic for not performing a part altogether inconsistent j-with his vocation." Now, it should be borne in mind,, that Berkely had already destroyed matter, and that Hume undertook to show that, by the same piocess, or by parity of reasoning, the destruction of mind was inevitable. His fundamental position was expressed thus: '"All the perceptions of the human mind resolve them- seJves into two distinct kinds, which I call impressions .and ideas. The difference betwixt them consists in the degrees of force and liveliness with which they strike 'Upon the mind and make their way into our thought or -.consciousness. Those perceptions which enter with most force and violence, we may name impressions^ and .under this name I comprehend all our sensations, pas- sions and emotions, as they make their first appearance in the soul. By ideas,\ mean the faint images of these in I/KCTUBE OF PBES. LAWB, 847 thinking and reasoning." Matter and mind are resolved into a congeries of impressions and their fading pictures, so that the sum total of knowledge is phenomenal and only phenomenal. As already explained, this is nihilism. Hume swept away both matter and mind as substantive realities, and in spite of his utterly discrediting reason, his speculations then took a positive phase, and on the basis indicated in the above extract, respecting "impres- sions and ideas," he constructed a complete system of the human mind. If the office of a sceptic be purely nega- tive, then Hume was something more than a sceptic, for, tmlike Pyrrho, he assumed the aggressive role of a posi- tive constructive philosopher. And so .successful was he in this as to reduce the world to the alternative of ac- cepting his positive system of phenomenalism or of re- constructing its philosophy, and the most notorious fea- ture of the philosophy of the present is the fact that its votaries mainly fall into two groups, those who stand with Hume in his phenomenalism or positiveism and those who antagonize jt and stand with Reid and Hamilton in their realism. Hamilton says: "The dilem- ma of Hume constitutes, perhaps, the most memorable Crisis in the history of philosophy; for out of it the whole subsequent metaphysic of Europe has taken its rise." The actual dilemma was, as I have stated it, the alternative between nihilism and realism or phenome- nalism and noumenalism. The battle still rages. Hume was a Pyrrohonist, but he was more than a Pyrrohonist ; he was a sceptic, but he was more than a sceptic; his criticism resulted not only in destructive ni- hilism, but in constructive nihilism. As a sceptic his aim was destructive and it succeeded in knocking many false props from under knowledge, but his renewal of the daring and sacnhgious attempt to destroy the 848 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. temple of knowledge itself, was a failure; yea, his bold assault only resulted in the foundations of knowledge being laid deeper and broader. But as Pascal happilj says, and we have seen it illustrated in both Pyrrho and Hume, "Nature subverts scepticism and reasos sub- verts dogmatism :" Truth crushed to earth will rise again. The eternal years of God are hers. The third name mentioned as in the van of nihilism, was that of J. G. Fichte, 1762-1814, A. D. He did not professedly play the role of the sceptic, but his idealistic dogmatism is even a more thoroughgoing nihilism than that of either Pyrrho or Hume. The following re- markable passage from Fichte's "Bestimmung des men- schen," tells the whole story : The sum total is this: There is absolutely nothing perma- nent either without me or within me, but only an unceasing change. I know absolutely nothing of any existence, not even of my own. I myself know nothing and am nothing. Imagei (Bilder) there are; they constitute all that apparently exists, and what they know of themselves is after the manner of images j images that pass and vanish without then being aught to witness their transition ; that consist in fact of the images of images, with- out significance and without an aim. I myself am one of these images ; nay, I am not even thus much, but only a confused image of images. All reality is converted into a marvellous dream, without a life to dream, and without a mind to dream; with a dream made up only of a dream of itself. Perception is a dream; thought the source of all the existence and all the reality which I imagine to myself of my existence, of my power, of my desti- nation is the dream of that dream. H's Reid, p. 129*. Such an utterance as this one of Fichte has on the individual mind a soporific influence and recalls the Nir- wana, the Hindoo doctrine of the individual soul's extinguishment oy being blown out like a lamp in the phraseology of Buddhism, that ancient system of Nihil- ism. (Max Muller's Chips, I. 279, 280.) Travelers sometimes call our attention to a most re- markable phenomenon of nature which we, after the French, call a mirage, At one time, it may be the ap- LKCT0RE OP PKKS. LAWS. 349 parancc of pools and lakes of water in sandy and desert: places where water is most needed and least likely ta occur; at another, it may be a calm flowing water, re- flecting from its unruffled surface the trees growing on its banks, while objects in the background assume the appearance of splendid residences amidst groves oi trees, or of castles embosomed in a forest of palms with outlying lakes dotted with verdant and beautiful little islands. The illusion is often so perfect in all its circum- stances that the most experienced travelers and even the natives of the desert are deluded by it; and an experi- enced eastern traveler observes, that "no one can imagine, without actual experience, the delight and eager expectation, followed by the most intense and bitter dis- appointment, which the appearance of the mirage often occasions traveling parties, particularly when the supply of water which they are obliged to carry with them or* their camels is nearly or quite exhausted." "Still the same burning sun! no cloud in heaven! "The hot air quivers, and the sultry mist "Floats o'er the desert, with a show "Of distant waters mocking their distress." The phantom ship, which the early colonists of our country beheld in the air, as a supposed divine interposi- tion in answer to their earnest cries to heaven for sup- plies to meet their desperate necessities, was but a mock- ing mirage. But may we not in all seriousness ask^ whether the delusion of those who transmute these empty images into substantial realities is any greater than the delusion of those who change the life sustaining realities of the universe into the splendid mockery of a sceptical mirage. Surely it is a much more pleasing service which the great Shemitic peer of the Aryan Homer, renders, when, in his vision, he holds before us. the literal realization of actual blessings as surprising as $50 UNIVERSITY OP MISSOURI. the conversion of the illusion of the mirage into a sub- stantial reality: Then shall be unclosed the eyes of the blind; And the ears of the deaf shall be opened : Then shall the lame bound like a hart, And the tongue of the dumb shall sing: For in the wilderness shall burst forth waters, And torrents in the desert: And the glowing sand shall become a poll, And the thirsty soil bubbling springs. Let us rather welcome an excess of realism than; the hollow and unatural emptiness of nihilism. In the spring of 1874, James Parton, the well known author, was elected President of the "N. Y. Liberal Club," and on assuming the chair, among other things, said: "Here we are, this human race of ours, tossed upon this round ball of earth, naked and shel- terless, sent rolling through space. Why? we don't know; whence? we don't know; and whither? we don't know, that is to say, I don't know. If there are any here so fortunate as to know, I tender them my re- spectful congratulations. But for my own part, I only clearly know that I don't know." This is the inevitable outlook of faithless nihilism. No wonder that its gloom, which horrified the mind of Hume, should bewilder a Parton. ii. REALISM: We now turn our thought from the dreary chaos of nihilism and seek a firmer looting upon the continent of realism. I have often thought of an incident when I was a college student. A letter was received from one of the last graduating class, giving a discription of his experience in a new line of study. "Yes boys," said George, "I am studying Hebrew; but I feel like a blind sheep in a millpond, for I can neither see shore nor touch bottom." The fact was, George was not a very L.EOTDRK OF PRE8. LAWS. 851 apt scholar in language; the difficulty was subjective and not objective, for this language is remarkable for its sim- plicity and perfection. And thus it is that the nihilist flounders, for to him the moral and physical reality, order and beauty of nature are a chaos "A dark Illimitable ocean, without bound, Without dimension, where length breadth and height, And time and place, are lost; where endless night And chaoe, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy." It is important at this point to recall the view that consciousness is the great storehouse of the materials, the fountain of the stream, the Bible of Philosophy. Consciousness is sometimes vaguely and popularly used for what may at any time have been a distinct matter of knowledge, as, I am not conscious of ever having made the remark attributed to me; and then, it has-been understood in the too narrow sense of a particular fac- ulty coordinate with other particular faculties and whose function or office it is to take note of their operations; whereas, the better view esteems consciousness as the root of our intelligence, so that the particular powers are only the modifications or sharers in common, each in its measure, of its vitality and energy. This generic view' as distinguished from the popular and specific views,seems to define the nature of this canon of philosophy. But the nature and the sphere of the activity of this generic function of our intelligent being, may, for reasons which cannot now be canvassed, be viewed as threefold,. i. e., (i) phenomenal, (2) noumenal and (3) inferential. However, as some limit consciousness entirely to the facts or phenomena of experience, the word intuition, which means the power of the immediate vision of truth on the apprehension of its evidence, whether that 862 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. evidence be direct or mediate, may with propriety be made to do duty in this tripple service ; and then, our phenomenal intuition will coincide with consciousness and the noumenal and inferential intuitions will be distinc- tive. The bearing of this will be evident farther on t for as thus defined, intuition rather than consciousness is the true and valid criterion of philosophy. Of course the operation of intuition, like that of every other power, has its root in consciousness; but it is something more than consciousness, just as each specific power is consciousness plus a defferential element, as memory, thought, imagi- nation, feeling, will, to all of which consciousness stands in common relation and each of which has its character* istic and discriminating form of energy. Consciousness is not coextensive either with mind or with mental activity. The facts of consciousness have two aspects, as they are viewed simply as phenomenal appearances in some sense or other, or as they are viewed as evidencing some- thiug other than themselves. It is the province of met- aphysics to consider at large these facts of consciousness,, subjectively or internally in relation to the mind know- ing, and objectively or externally in relaiion^tothe things known. Psychology is the science of both classes of these facts of consciousness, as such, inter se\ but ontol- ogy deals with these facts in relation to realities existing out of consciousness. When these facts are vacated of all substantial import, the world is an empty plantasma- goria and the result is nihilism ; when credited with sub- stantive validity, in whatever measure, a corresponding realism is the result. As a matter of fact we have three specific forms of realism, viz., the Unitarian, the dualistic and the theistic. Each of these must be briefly expounded. LECTURE OF PRES. LAWS. I. Unitarian realism. This holds that the phe- nomena of consciousness, which are constitutive of the primary fact of knowledge, reveal substantial reality, but that this reality is one and single. There are three varieties of this Unitarian form of realism. The first is idealism, which makes mind the only substance; the second is materialism, which makes matter the only sub- stance; and the third is that of absolute identity, which views the properties of both mind and matter as the common properties of one supreme and all-comprehend- ing substance. Each of these views will now receive a brief notice and in the order named. ( i.) The first, then, is idealism, according to which the "one and only substantial reality is mind, The existence of mind, as a thinking substantive re- ality, is placed beyond doubt by a very simple enun- ciation. Let us drop the reins on the neck of doubt; and, without shrinking or reservation, boldly doubt of everything of the existence of God, of the external world, doubt our own existence. But when it is said that all things are doubted, it is manifest that the doubt itself is excepted which did put allthings else in subjection. It is obviously impossible to overthrow this doubt itself, for if you doubt of it, your doubting still remains as an ultimate and insuperable fact. But doubting is conscious thinking, is a fact of consciousness. Now, to utilize a distinction just made and which is oe- lieved to be one of importance, as this act of thinking stands in the eye of phenomenal intuition, so the think- ing self is cognized, not by inference from this fact, but directly, instantaneously, and necessarily by a power of the mind which I have ventured to call the noumenal intuition. As ordinarily interpreted, we cannot be conscious of self but only of the mental modification 354 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. -through which self is mediately known or inferred: just as we are not conscious of our mental powers them- selves, but only of their actions: whereas, there seems evidently to he an endowment directly cognizing self and its powers, as the logical antecedant or apriori con- dition of intuiting their operations, and this endowment is made distinctive and intelligible by designating it the noumenal intuition. However, if the function of con- sciousness itself be extended so as to embrace it, very well, provided it is understood. This exposition covers the ground of Descartes' 'Cogito, ergo sum. This expression is sometimes viewed ,as an enthymeme, or syllogism with one premise sup- pressed; and by supplying it, the full argument would be: whatever thinks exists \ I think; therefore, I exist. But the major premise, whatever thinks exists, is an ab- stract universal proposition, and therefore it is not in its primary and spontaneous form. The necessity and im- mediacy of the conjunction of thought and self are just as imperative in the original and concrete particular act of consciousness and intuition, as in the abstract universal form of reflection and logic. The ergo evidently leads away from the original concrete fact, in its spontaneous and intuitional form, to its scientific and formulated phase; just as the proposition, every change must /iarc a cause, is not the original fact of intuition in its spon- taneous form. The original judgment contemplates only an individual concrete change, as necessarily refera- ble to an antecedent and adequate action of force; and the universal proposition is not properly a generalization .upon a multitude of instances, but merely the unlimited statement of what is found true in every instance of a change. The repetitious instances do not furnish the particulars of an induction, but only particular illustra- LECTURE OF PRES. LAWS. 355 tions of the same identical primitive concrete judgment, so that reflection converts the concrete psychological judgment, by abstraction, into the universal logical judg- ment. Just so, / think and I exist is the 'primary con- crete and complex psychological intuition; but the prop- osition taken as the major premise of Descartes' syllo- gism, whatever thinks exists, results from reflection and abstraction, but not from generalization, in the empirical sense, which can only enunciate what is and not what must be. If I am asked how I know that I exist? and answer that I am conscious of it, the answer is seen, in the light of the foregoing exposition, to be valid and beyond the reach of doubt. A fact of phenomenal and of noume- nal intuition may be explained and illustrated, but can neither be proved nor disproved ; it is not amenable to logic, but only to common sense; and logic itself is pos- sible, only on the assumption of the priority of the ex- istence and authority of such realities. Realism, then, has a sure footing, as to the substan- tial reality of self, which is the veritable warp of knowl- edge, however diverse and party colord may be its woof. The fact of human thought is assumed in all systems of philosophy, in all sciences and m all expe- rience whether in self communion, in man's intercourse with man or with all things other than self. This sub- stantial self-hood, which refutes and survives all nihilism, is literally our pou sto, a sure footing in the domain of reality, to which we gravitate by the necessities of our rational nature and from which all imagined escapes are illusory self-deceptions. Self is the terra firma of thought, from which bur rational nature can no more escape than our bodies from the. operation of the law of gravitation. 556 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. Now, what has just been set forth is the truth, but it is not the whole truth. Idealistic Unitarian realism admits only the real or substantial existence of mind, but denies the substantial existence of matter. A few citations from Bishop Berkeley will complete all that need be said at present on this point: The table I write on, I say, exists, that is, I see and feel it; and if I were out of my study I should say it existed, meaning thereby that if I was in my study I might perceive it, or that some other spirit actually does perceive it. * * This is all that I can understand by these and the like expressions. For as to what is said of the absolute existence of unthinking things without any relation to their being perceived, that seems perfectly unintelligi- ble. Their ESSE is PERCIPI, nor is it possible they'should have any existence, out of the minds or thinking things which perceive them. It is indeed an opinion flagrantly prevalent amongst men, that houses, mountains, rivers, and in a word all sensible objects have an existence natural and real, distinct from their being per- ceived by the understanding. But with how great an assurance and acquiescence soever this principle may be entertained in the world ; yet whoever shall find in his heart to call it in question, may, if I mistake not, perceive to involve a manifest contradiction. Some truths there are so near and obvious to the mind, that a man need only open his eyes to see them. Such I take this im- portant one to be, to-wit, that all the choir of heaven and furniture of the earth, in a word all those bodies which compose the mighty frame of the world, have not any subsistence without d. mind, that their being is to be perceived or known ; that conse- quently so long as they are not actually perceived by me, or do not exist in my mind or that of any other created spirit, they must either have no existence at all, or else subsist in the mind of some eternal spirit: it being perfectly unintelligible and involving all the absurdity of abstraction, to attribute to any single part of them an existence independent of a spirit. To be convinced of which the reader need only reflect and try to separate in his own ihoughts the being of a sensible thing from its being perceived. From what has been said, it follows, there is not any other substance than SPIRIT, or that which perceives. Bishop Berkeley is acknowledged to be a represen- tative idealistic realist, and the language of these ex- tracts is too explicit to 'admit of any question that, whilst he gave to the external world a phenomenal and appa- LECTURE OF PRES. LAWS. 357 rent reality., he utterly denied its non-spiritual substantial reality and held that "i-here is not any other substance than spirit." But in his mind there was no question about the individual substantial reality of an infinite spirit or God, and of finite spirits. Matter is a phenom- enon of mind. (2.) The second form of Unitarian realism goes to precisely the opposite extreme and holds that "there is not any other substance" than matter. Materialism, consequently, is the name by which this second form of Unitarian realism is most familiarly known. As in idealism, or philosophic spiritualism, all the phenomena of matter are explained away as phenomena of mind, so in materialism, all the phenomena of mind are ex- plained away as phenomena of matter. The Unitarian psychologists reach this result by explaining all knowl- edge as consisting of transformed sensations, whether the philosopher's stone, by which this magical transmu- tation is effected, be the reflection of Locke, the associa- tion of others, or the two combined. Nihil est in in- tellectu quod non fuit prius in sensu there is nothing in the intellect which was not previously a sensation. This is the accepted axiom of all such as hold this view. This adage is their only and universal rule for interpre- ting, translating and transforming the facts of conscious- ness. It has been wittily observed of the associational psychologists, that "whenever one of their fundamental assumptions is contradicted by the experience of man- hood, it is easy to say that in infancy a period of which anything can be affirmed, since nothing is remembered it was strictly true. This is certainly making the most of early years. The small child is put into the association mill, f and after a little brisk grinding is brought out with a complete set of mental furniture. 358 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. When the critic reaches the spot he is blandly told that the work is done, and the machinery put away. He is further warned that any search on his part will be use- less; as the traces of manufacture have been entirely obliterated." The cultivators of various branches of physical science are much given to this materialistic realism. In that little book entitled "The Unseen Uni- verse," which made a sensation at the time of its anony- mous publication, but which is now known to be the joint product of the distinguished physicists Stewart and Tait, the case is put in the following striking language: Is there not, therefore, a reality about matter which there is not about mind? Can we conceive a single particle of matter to go out of the universe for six or eight hours and then to return to it; but do we not every day "see our consciousness disappearing" in the case of deep sleep, or in a swoon, and then returning to us again ? Far be it from us to deny that we have something which is called consciousness, and is utterly distinct from matter and the properties of matter, as these are regarded in Physics. But may not the connection between the two be of this nature? When a certain number of material particles, consisting of phosphorus, carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, and perhaps some others, are in consequence of the operations of their physical forces, in a certain position with respect to each other, and in a certain state of motion, consciousness is the result, buc whenever this connec- tion is brought to an end, there is also an end of consciousness and the sense of individual existence, while however the particles of phosphorus, carbon, etc., remain as truly as ever. Now this means that matter must be looked upon as mis- tress of the house, and consciousness as an occasional visitor whom she permits to take of her hospitality, turning him out of doors wheneyer the larder is empty. It is worth while to investi- gate the process of thought which gives rise to this curious con- ception of the economy of the universe. In his work on the "Diseases of the Nervous Sys- tem," which is widely circulated among the medical pro- fession, Dr. Hammond "looks at the brain as a complex organ evolving a complex force the mind." Again he says: The mind, therefore, as before stated, is a compound force evolved by the brain, and its elements are perception, intellect. LECTURE OF PRES. LAWS. . 369 1 emotion and will. The sun likewise evolves a compound force, and its elements are light, heat and actinism . One of these forces., light, is again divisible into seA-eral primary colors, and the intel- lect of man, one of the mental forces, is made up of faculties. It would be easy to pursue the analogy still further, but enough has been said to indicate how clearly the relationship between brain and mind is that of matter and force. The false intellectual conception is then a fixed result of the altered brain tissue, and is just as direct a consequence of cerebral action as is a thought from a healthy brain. My own idea of insanity is based entirely on the fact, that as the healthy mind results from the health v brain, so a disordered mind comes from a diseased brain. In Vol. I, of Prof. Flint's Physiology, the follow- ing admirable passage from Uongct is quoted with ap- proval : In his psychical relations, but in these only, man can constitute a distinct kingdom. Physiology has especially in view the acts which assimilate man to animals; it. belongs to psychology to study and make known the faculties which separate him from them. In Vol. IV, published a number of years later, it is laid down in the text, p. 377, "that there is and can be no intelligence without brain substance. * * * The brain is not, strictly speaking, the organ of the mind,, but the mind is produced by the brain substance." Dr. Maudsley criticises the proposition of Cabanis, "that the brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile," because, he says, mind, the product of brain action, can- not, like bile, the product of liver action, "be observed and handled and dealt with as a palpable object." * * * "Nevertheless," he states, '"it must be distinctly laid down, that mental action is as surely dependent on the nervous structure as the function of the liver confessedly is on the hepatic structure." It r would seem, then, that Cabanis and Hammond and Flint and Maudsley, not to extend the list, hold substantially the same view of mind, as a mere phenomenal function of the 'nervous tissue* UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. At death the stomach will cease to secrete gastric juice, t:he liver will ^top secreting bile, and nerve tissue **brain substance" will no longer functionate and evolve mind a consequence too grave to be passed in silence and yet too obvious to escape the attention of the most unwary. But it is the object, in this connection, -only to submit a statement without argument: and hence it is proper to mention, to you, that in a thesis on the "*'Dual Constitution of Man," which thesis is accessible to you, I have canvassed this precise issue, as to the re- lation of mind to our nervous organism, and shown that 't is not a function but a functioner of nerve force. Prof. Huxley says: "There is every reason to be- 'lieve that consciousness is a function of nervous matter." (Huxley's Crit. and Add., 250.) Prof. Tyndall says: "Besides the physical life dealt -with by Mr. Darwin, there is a psychical life presenting similar gradations, and asking equally for a solution. * * I descern in that matter which we have hitherto covered with opprobrium, the promise and potency of all terres- trial life." (Belfast Address revised by author, pp. 80 -arnd 89.) The year after Descartes' death, Thomas Hobbes ^>f Malmesbury (1588-1679) published the work from -which the following citations are made : Seeing the foundation of all true Ratiocination, is the con- stant Signification of words. * * * I will begin with the words Sodv and Spirit, which in the language of the Schools are termed, Substances, Corporeall and Incorporeal!. The Word Body, in the roost general acceptance, signified! that which filleth, or occupieth some certain room, or imagined place. * * * The same also is t, but his monotheism was pantheism Plato, with all the lofty granduer of his sublime spirit, sought for the absolute in the archetypes existing in the di- vine mind. The Alexandrian philosophers proposed, to them- selves the same high argument; mingling their theories with the mysticism of the east, and even calling to their aid, the lights of the Christian revelation. In more recent times Spinoza gave cur- rency to similar investigations, which were soon moulded into a stern and unflinching system of pantheism; and in him we see the model upon which the modern idealists of Germany have renew- ed their search into the absolute ground of all phenomena. The very first requisite, therefore, in understanding the rationale of the" German philosophy is to fix the' eye of the mind orrthe notion of THE ABSOLUTE, and thus to pass mentally beyond the bounds of changing, finite, conditioned existence, into the region of the un- changeable, the infinite the unconditioned. It is, in fact, in the various methods by which it is supposed that we are conducted- to the absolute, whether by faith, intuition or reason, that the differ- ent phases of the German metaphysics have arisen. Morell's Hist. Mod. Phil. 411. Among these German systems, those of Schelling and Hegel have been most conspicuous in maintaining "that mind and matter are only phenomenal modifica- tions of the same common substance." 2. Dualistic realism. This is the second generic form of realism, according to the analysis and enumera- LECTURE OP PRES. LAWS. 367 tion already given. The views under this head are also diverse, but they may be arranged in two groups, (i) that of bastard dualism, and (2) that of legitimate dual- ism. That, however, which is characteristic of dual- ism is its intuition of the substantial reality of both mind and matter, as coexistent and distinct substances, each having its own attributes and laws of subsistence and operation. The oriental dualism of Zoroaster, which invaded the thought of Europe at the time of the transi- tion from the old to the new civilization, has no signifi- cance in this special connection, however curious, import- ant and indispensable it may be in the appreciation of the ethical, religious and speculative opinions of the early centuries of our era. (i.) The three forms of spurious dualistic realism which may be now noticed are represented by Descartes, Leibnitz and Brown. Descartes (1596-1650) was a Frenchman and ex- cogitated his peculiar system of philosophy whilst on duty as a soldier. His mathematical genius placed un- der obligation all succeeding generations; but by striking out a new method in philosophy, he associated his name with that of Socrates and became the father of our modern philosophy. His system lives only as a curios- ity, but his method of appealing directly to conscious- ness as affording an impregnable base of operations, sur- vives and is not destined to perish. In regard to the substantial objects of existence, Descartes recognized one self-existent and self-sufficient substance, God, and then matter and mind as derived and dependent, or created substances. These substantial entities we could not know except by virtue of their possession of attributes; each substance has its chief property, which constitutes its nature and essence, and 368 ONIVERSITY OI MISSOURI. to which property all others are referred. Extension in length, breadth and depth, constitutes the nature of cor- poreal substance, and thought constitutes the nature of thinking substance. Every other thing which can be at- tributed to body presupposes extension and is only some mode of an extended thing; as also the things which we find in the mind, are only diverse modes of thinking. And so we can easily have two clear and disticnt notions or ideas, one of a thinking substance, another of a cor- poreal substance, provided we accurately distinguish all the attributes of thought from the attributes of exten- sion. (Principia, i, LI-LIV.) This is about his own language; and we get at the heart of his system by observing that mind and matter, whose very natures are constituted of thought and ex- tension, whilst coexistent and most intimately related, yet like two gasses mechanically mixed, do not influence each other. The pineal gland was made the seat .of the soul, but the relation of body and soul is one of non-in- tercourse. This presents a striking double contrast to the two opposite extremes that of Spencer's conversion of food into thought and that of Berkely's conversion of all corporeal things into ideas which ideas "man eats and wears. The correspondence of the activities of soul and body is brought about by the direct agency of God r as each furnishes occasion; or, as another has expressed it: "It is God himself who by a law which he has es- tablished, when movements are determined in the brain, produces analogous modifications in the consdous mind. In like manner, suppose the mind has a volition to move the arm; this volition is, of itself inefficacious, but God in virtue of the same law, causes the answering motion in our limb. The organic changes, and the mental mod- ifications, are nothing but simple conditions and are not LKCTURK OF PRES. J,AW8. 3(59 real causes; in short they are occasions or occasional causes." Leibnitz (1646-1716) was a German of amazing ver- satility, originality, breadth and depth of intellect. His brilliant speculation as to the constitution ot mind and matter is known as the system of preestablished har- mony, and was occasioned apparently by the system of Descartes. He teaches, in his system, that compound bodies are made up of monads which are the ultimate elements, the dynamical atoms; that each soul is a monad and each monad is a miniature universe, having its inherent or immanent qualities and its sphere and series of allotted activities. Matter and mind thus con- stituted were, at the beginning, wound up like two clocks, to run forever in perfect harmony. All the con- tingencies of the universe were anticipated and provided for by its great author, and the'involution of energy and intelligence was made equal to the possible evolution. The fact is, Leibnitz so far anticipated Spencer and Darwin in some fundamental features of their specula- tions, that it has attracted some attention. According to this system : God created the soul at first in such manner that it under- stands and represents to itself in corresponding order whatever passes in the body ; and the body also, in such a manner that it must do of itself whatever the soul requires. Between the two substances which constitute this man, there would subsist the most perfect harmony. It is thus, no longer necessary to devise theories to account for the reciprocal intercourse of the material and spiritual substances. These have no communication, no re- ciprocal influence. The soul passes from one state, from one per- ception to another by virtue of its own nature. The body exe- cutes the series of its movements without any participation or in- terference of the soul therein. (Opera, ed. Erd., C2O, a, et al.) Again he says : I will not make a difficulty of saying that the soul moves the body ; even as a Copernican speaks truly of the rising of the sun, a Platonist of the reality of mat'ter, a tartesian of the reality of sensible qualities, provided one understand? them judiciously. 1 370 UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. believe, in like manner, that it is very' true to say that Mi act the one upon the other, provided it is understood that Hie one is a cause of the changes in the other, in consequence of the laws of their preestablished harmony. CErd., 132, a.) That is, it is proper to use this language of ordinary life, provided you understand by it something entirely different from what is ordinarily understood by it, for body and soul, according to Leibnitz, have really less in- fluence on each other than two separate clocks vibrating near each other. The feeling of joy in the heart and the smile on the face, fear and palor, all corresponding bodily and mental states, are, according to this view, mere coincidences. I will translate for you another of his own brief expositions of his peculiar system, given in a letter just twenty years before his death and six years subsequent to his first formal disclosure of his .system to Arnauld : You say that you do not understand ho\v I would he able to prove what I have advanced touching the communication or har- mony of two substances so different as the soul and body. 1 truly believe that I have found the means of doing so:* and behold how I undertake to satisfy you. Figure to yourself two clocks which perfectly agree. Now that can be effected in three ways. The first consists in a mutual influence; the second is by assfgning to them a skillful workman who may regulate them and put them in accord at every moment; the third is to make the two pendulums with so much art and exactness that one may be assured of their agreement everafter. Put, now, the soul and the body in the place of these two pendu- lums; their agreement can occur in one of these three ways, (i) The way of influence is that of the vulgar philosophy, but as one could not conceive of material particles which can pass from one of these substances into the other, it is necessary to abandon this belief. (2) The way of the continual assistance of the Creator is that of the system of occasional causes; but I hold that this is to make intervene a "Deus ex machina" an artificial stage god in a thing natural and ordidary, where, according to reason, God ought to co-operate only in the manner that He concurs in all other things natural. (3) Thtifi there remains only my hypothesis, that is to say, the way ot harmony. Clod made, at the beginning, each of these two substances with such a nature that by following only its own proper laws, which it has received with its being, it accords in every respect with the other just as if there was a mutual influence or as if God continually extended to them an LECTURE OF P11ES. LAWS. 'U- influence beyond his general concurrence. Consequently, f have- no need of proving- anything, unless some one require that 1 prove that God is sufficiently skilful to employ this prevenient artifice of \vhich we see some sparks even among men. Now,. granting its possibility, you see that this [third] way is the most beautiful and the most worthy of him. You have suspected that my explication would be opposed U* the idea so different which you have of spirit and body ; but youi see in an instant that no one has better established their inde- pendence. For as long as one was obliged to explain their com- munication as miraculous, occasion has always been given a good man^y people to fear that the distinction between soul and bodu might not be as real as supposed, since the support of it is so far- fetched. I will not be displeased at your .sounding persons oV" distinction upon the thoughts which I have just explained to yoiu (Ibid. XXV.) It should be observed that Descartes is not himself wholly responsible for what is here criticised as the Car- tesian doctrine of assistance or occasional causes, as Male- branche and others endeavored by this shift to bring into consistency such of his views as thai of animal organ- isms being soulless machines and of providence bein- continual creation : la conservation et la creation nc differ- ent qtfau regard dc noire fa$on de penscr, et uon point eji effetl (Descartes' Oeuvres, ed. Simon, p. 93.) Thev judged that we experience sensations because God causes, them to arise in the soul, on the occasion of the move- ments of matter, and when, in its turn, the soul wills to>; move the body, that it is God who moves the body for; it. In like manner, the movements among bodies them- selves is effected by God moving one body on occasion?. of the movement of another body. (Erd. 127.) DCS carte's, own view that the soul exercised a directive influ- ence over the body and was susceptible of the action oC the animal spirits (Les Pass., pt. I, 34) was lost sight oi. by his followers; and yet Leibnitz repetitiously appeal- to his . mathematics, in which he was the compeer of Newton and of Descartes, to prove the paralogisn*. that the quantity of direction is as fixed in the un,- 372 UNIVERSITY OK MI8SOUIU. iverse as that of moving force, so that bodies must be just as independent of the soul in their direction as in the quantity of their moving force; and he even goes so far a- to express the opinion thai if Descartes had known of tin's, as he terms it, new law of nature a- to direction, he would have been led to the discovery of the sy.sl.em of pre-established harmony. Bv the modified Cartesian system, all efficiency was ab- stracted from both mind and matter and the only efficient operative energy was that of God, who so timed and regulated his action in the lines of material and of men- tal phenomena that they as perfectly accorded as if each, by its own susceptibility, responded 1 o the efficiency of the other. Whereas, in the system of Leibnitz, this responsiveness or accordance was equally perfect but it was by virtue, not of an}' present influence of God on either mind or matter, nor of any influence of either on the other, but vvhollv on account of the original consti- tution and store of energy lodged in mind and matter at their creation. He frequently objects to the Cartesian system that it makes God a soil of stage convenience, for the denouement of the piece by moving the body, as the soul wills, ami giving peccptions to the soul, as the body requires; and thai: thus, in a most unphilo- sophic manner, a perpetual miracle is performed in maintaining the ostensible intercourse of these two sub- stances. However untenable the Cartesian system itself may be, I must be allowed to quote: with approval the apt reply of Bayle, in the article of his Dictionary on Rorari- ns, that nothing can properly be called a miracle which- is brought about as an instance of an established method of procedure, i. e., accordi-ng to law. He says: "The system of occasional causes does not bring in God act- ing miraculously. F am as much persuaded as ever I LECTURE OF PKES. LAWS. 373 was," he continues, "that an action cannot he said to be miraculous, unless God produces it as an exception to general laws; and that everything- of which he is im- mediately . the author according to those laws, is dis- tinct from n miracle properly so called": -i.e., as it was esteemed by the Cartesian, God's ordinary mode of oper- tion could not in whole nor in part he properly termed miraculous. I will add that those who speak of the miracle of creation, talk wildly, for a creation is not a miracle: a miracle implies, first, an established order of nature, whereas creation, if it mean anything, does not presuppose but initiates that order; and second, a miracle implies a departure from or interruption of the order of nature, whereas, in creation, there is not vet any order to be interrupted. Hence, to talk of the miracle of creation is to talk nonsense, I mean that it is to use lan- guage to which no intelligible meaning can possibly at- tach, because of the contusion of thought necessarily im- plied. The fact is, for precisely opposite reasons, no such thing as a miracle was possible upon the hypoth- esis of either Descartes or Leibnitz. To the objection urged against his own system, that it was an extraordinary affair and had too little of God, whilst he charged that Cartesianism had too much of God, Leibnitz made answer: But I admit the supernatural only at the beginning, at the first formation of things; after that, the formation of animals and the relation between soul and body, are as natural as the most ordinary operations of nature. (Opera, edit. Erd., p. 476, a.) The only question, in his view, was as to the com- petence and wisdom of God in so' constituting the ele- ments or monads of the universe with dynamic powers, with immanent attributes, as to place the resources of Deity under no farther requisition. It is easy to see, under the Cartesian wing of these speculations, the egg 7? UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI. r>f Pantheism, and under the Leibnitzian wing, the egg of Atheism, both of which were hatched subsequently. As a matter of fact, Spinoza, stopping short with Des- tes' definition of substance as a being self existent and self sufficient, rejected his qualifications respecting created substances and left God alone as the sole existent and efficient substance; and Leibnitz, to escape this con- i -sequence of the obliteration of the inherent efficiency of second causes, grandly assumed that God made the universe at its creation the depository of immanent power, wisdom and all. attributes adequate to all its ^necessities and contingencies, as It should ever after flow smtward and onward in the commingling but entirely ^distinct and perfectly accordant streams of physical and pS3'chical life, thus removing God so far from view as to be forgotten, and investing the universe with so much of God as to be substituted by evolutionism in his {place. Pantheism has always amounted to the denial of any efficient finite substance; and Atheism, to the