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We, who have taught the world so much of practical science, so much of commercial enterprise, so much of political independence, should contribute an equal share to the intellectual progress of mankind. The experience of the last ten years should have convinced all thinking Americans that too much politics, and not enough statesmanship-too many politicians, too few statesmen,-is the greatest danger that has yet menaced republican institutions. This present peril can be averted if college men would devote more time to public questions and less to abstract science. In theory our Government is the best in the world; in practice it is fast sinking to a level with the worst. We want better men in high and low places. If our colleges cannot provide such men, then they fail to that extent. Politics should be a noble pursuit, and such it was when politicians were patriots, and senators were statesmen. In the earlier and bet

ter days of the Republic, patriotism was its own reward, and did not seek the spoils of office- - did not look to the Senate as a sure road to wealth.

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Although pure patriotism ought to call forth the highest endeavor of collegebred men, there is a grand and noble pursuit that should command the attention of men of culture. Carlyle has said that literature is the noblest field for the truly ambitious man. He was right: the greatest political fame, however brilliant, is but brief. A prime minister sways a nation's destiny: he is the idol of the hour-his speeches are in every journal, his name in every mouth. He dies or falls and soon his very name is forgotten. Who was prime minister of England when Samuel Johnson walked the streets of London all night because he had no place in which to sleep? Who was prime minister of England when Oliver Goldsmith lived in a garret in Green Arbor Court? The statesmens' names are forgotten, but the names of Johnson and Goldsmith will go down to the latest posterity.

From the opening of the University, Mathematics has been a leading branch of study. Professor Sylvester, the distinguished English mathematician, was induced, partly by an ample salary, to accept the head of this department in the new University. He brought with him the reputation of a successful teacher

and a profound thinker, and during the years he remained in Baltimore he gave a great impetus to his special branch of learning. Among other things, he established the "American Journal of Mathematics," which has become an authority upon that branch of science. When Prof. Sylvester returned to England, he was succeeded by Prof. Craig in the chair of Mathematics, as well as in the editorship of the "Journal of Mathematics."

The Physical Laboratory and Seminary is under the general direction of Prof. Henry A. Rowland, assisted by Professors J. S. Ames, Louis Duncan, and others. This department includes Applied Electricity, Steam and Hydraulic Engineering, Practice in Mechanical Drawing, etc. Drawing, etc. It is well supplied with all the necessary appliances, including a physical laboratory, power house, dynamos, motors, valuable instruments for elementary work and research, with a carefully selected library, in which are all the leading physical journals published in the United States, England, France, Germany and Italy. In this, as well as in the other departments, a working knowledge of French and German is required.

The department of Chemistry is presided over by Prof. Ira Remsen, assisted by half-a-dozen associates. The course of instruction includes analytical chemistry, physical chemistry, inorganic chemistry, and laboratory work. Much of the work in the advanced courses is done in the laboratory, under the personal direction of Professors Remsen and Morse.

Within the last quarter of a century, Biology has become an important part of an university education. Johns Hopkins provides for courses in this study. 1, For students who wish to make Zoölogy or Animal Physiology or Botany a subject of advanced study and research, or the principal or a subordinate subject for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy; 2, for graduates in medicine who desire a laboratory course in Physiology; 3, for undergraduates who desire some knowledge of the biological sciences as a part of a liberal education; and 4, for undergraduates who desire to prepare themselves for the study of medicine. Prof. Wm. K. Brooks is at the head of this department, assisted by five other professors. The building devoted to biolog

ical studies at Johns Hopkins was the first of its kind constructed in this country. The work carried on here is threefold: Physiology, Zoology, (including Morphology and Embryology), and Botany. An excellent collection of works on biological subjects, a museum, and a herbarium have been added to the laboratory, and every facility is offered for the prosecution of original investigation.

Instruction in Geology and Mineralogy is under the direction of Dr. William B. Clarke, and consists of lectures, laboratory and field work and conferences upon topics of current literature. The library in this department is well supplied with leading journals and works of reference upon geological subjects, including the fine library of the late Prof. George H. Williams, whose memorial lectureship was inaugurated during the past session by Sir Archibald Geikie, Director General of the Geological Survey of Great Britain.

The department of Astronomy was organized under the direction of the eminent scientist, Simon Newcomb, and it is now in charge of Associate-Professor Charles Lane Poor. The classes include beginners and those who are prepared to carry on advanced work. Suitable instruments have been provided, and a small observatory enables the students to make and record observations.

The Latin and Greek Seminaries of the University are under the direction, respectively, of Prof. Warren and Prof. Gildersleeve, and consists, each, of undergraduate, advanced, and elective courses. Lectures are given by the professors, and the students read the standard classical authors. The Oriental Seminary is in charge of Prof. Paul Haupt, who instructs the students in Hebrew, Assyrian and Arabic. Less than a dozen students availed themselves of this course, while Prof. Bloomfield had only half a dozen in Sanskrit. The well-equipped library of the Oriental Seminary has been recently enriched by the valuable collection of the late Prof. August Dillmann, of Berlin. The English Seminary, under Professor James W. Bright and Dr. Wm. Hand Browne, provides instruction in advanced and college courses, including Anglo-Saxon and the study of the early masters of English poetry, Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton. Associate-Professor Herbert E. Greene gives an elective course

in the English literature of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries- from Dryden to Wordsworth. A class in Rhetoric and Composition, under Professor Greene, meets three times a week; lectures are given by the Professor, papers are written by the students, which are read and criticized in the presence of the class, each member of which is obliged to make a careful study of one prose author, and submit the result of his study in the form of a series of short papers.

Prof. A. Marshall Elliott is at the head of the Seminary of the Romance Languages. Advanced instruction in this department covers a period of three years. The subjects of instruction comprise three sections: a purely linguistic, a purely literary, and a composite group intended to unite the first two. The studies include Latin, Italian, Spanish and French literature.

A few years since there appeared in a contemporary an article on "The Development of the American University," in which the writer said, that, up to that time (1888) "there has existed no form of an educational institution which we can call an "American University," if, by this term we intend to designate something other and higher than an American college." Yet, at the time when that article was published, the Johns Hopkins University was in the full vigor of its youth, and splendidly equipped with all the requirements of an university. Harvard required two and a half centuries to grow from a college to an university; but Johns Hopkins was a born university, if, by an university is meant an institution in which "a higher education" is obtained.

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President Gilman published in 1896 what he called "A Glance at the Past,' in which he said that Johns Hopkins University "was a place, where youth, properly trained by a long course of discipline, might be aided by teachers, instruments and books to pursue an advanced course of study and thus to be fitted for the traditional professional life, for professorships of science, literature, and other callings which are based on a high intellectual attainment." Among the "permanent subjects of instruction" at Johns Hopkins, said Dr. Gilman, 'have been the ancient classics, the Semitic tongues,

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etc." He especially declared that the
University was intended for those who
had undergone a period of college train-
ing, whose intellectual habits
formed, who had acquired exact knowl-
edge, who had learned how to study;"
thus assuming that the University is in-
tended as a training-school for professors,
and, as such, as already mentioned, it
has unsurpassed facilities. That the
Johns Hopkins is an "up-to-date" uni-
versity is shown by the freedom allowed
students to choose their course of studies.
Having selected his course, the student
must adhere to it. The training he re-
ceives is thorough and systematic; and
when he receives his degree, he has
earned it, and is well fitted to take his
place as a teacher of the special study to
which he has devoted himself. When

Socrates taught his enthusiastic disciples

the wisdom of which he was master; when Plato walked the academic grove with his followers and announced those high truths which still charm the human mind, the ancient world had no higher university than the school where these illustrious philosophers lectured.

vative instincts, is no longer at liberty to ignore
differing tastes, abilities, and impulses.
lege and even high school curricula have lost
much of their Mede and Persian unchange-
ableness, and it is admitted that the learner
may even early in life make a reasonably
wise choice as to how he shall develop his
mind. In the good old days, the subjects
taught in the best equipped universities were
few in number and narrow in scope. Now
they cover the whole field of useful know-
ledge; and that field is enlarging constantly
as the years go by."

Another journal said :

"The transformation of the plan of study pursued at Harvard College has culminated in the regulations published for the next academical year. The abandonment of the timehonored principles of university instruction is now complete, and, so far as this institution is concerned, we must learn to attach an entirely new meaning to the phrase, a liberal education; for henceforth it will be possible to obtain the degree of Bachelor of Arts without having read a line of Greek or Latin during the four years covered by the college course.

Mr. Charles Francis Adams, Jr., delivered an address at Harvard, in which he took strong ground against Latin and Greek forming a necessary portion of the college course. So, He pronounced the retention of these in our college curricula to-day, a "fetich - an absurd anomaly, a senseless tradition. "

the Johns Hopkins University aims to furnish the highest education to American youth.

A great advantage possessed by this university from the beginning, has been its elective system. It was only ten years ago that Harvard adopted this system, after much opposition on the part of the conservative members of its faculty. During the discussion, much talk and a great deal of nonsense was published in the public prints; at the same time the open discussion of the matter brought out a modicum of practical, commonFrom the various opinions, I have selected the following: The Dial," of Chicago, said:


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'Slowly the world has come to the belief that children are to be educated, not merely that they may play the part of machines, or, rather, of parts of machines, in the great social factory, but that each one has a possible development, in and for himself, without reference to others; and that it is the duty of each generation to supply for its successor the requisite conditions for this development. This mature thought of the world has had its influence, of course, upon all educational systems wherever it has prevailed. It has modified the popular notion as to what knowledge is of most worth. The modern ideas in regard to elective courses have come out of a growing reverence for the individual.

The schoolmaster, with his too conser

In the midst of the discussion Archdeacon Farrar visited the United States, and, in an address before the students of Johns Hopkins, he used the following striking language :

"Fifty years ago no educational establishment, as comprehensive in its range as this university existed among the English-speaking nations of the world. The old systems then in vogue were, however, happily more honored in the breach than in the observance. While some boys profited by the scheme, others of equal talent and merit, like Sir Walter Scott, were sent forth dunces. In history they were deficient, and I may say, that they were not taught to write Latin and Greek. The Greek they wrote would make an Athenian schoolboy laugh. Happily, that day is past, and I am happy to say that I have contributed my share toward giving the deathblow to that system of training. The fantastic folly of making every boy write verses in languages he does not understand has had its day. All that has been changed, and honor now is given to every branch of human knowledge. My object was not to disparage the classical studies, but only to destroy the autocracy of those ancient languages. I only pleaded that they should not be exclusive, but I do not mean to say that I wish to have them excluded."

More than two hundred and fifty years ago, the eminently practical phi

losopher, Bacon, spoke of the evil of an exclusively classical education, and grieved because there was no collegiate education which was free, where such as were disposed might give themselves to histories, modern languages, books of policy and civil discourse, and other like enablements unto causes of state." Now, if this was an evil in the sixteenth century, it must be a much greater evil in the nineteenth century.

In the sixteenth century, a person who did not read Greek and Latin had little or nothing to read. But all that has long been changed, and the books that have been written in the English language during the last three centuries are of far greater value than all the books which were in existence previous to that time. Shakespeare possesses more sweetness and eloquence, more true philosophy, more genius, in short, than all the classic writers put together. We can do without Edipus and Media while we have Lear and Hamlet; Falstaff and Dogberry more than supply the place of Thraso and Pyrgopolinices. To affirm that textbooks which were old in the days of the Cæsars must be the text-books of American students in the last quarter of the nineteenth century is certainly an absurd proposition; yet that is just what is maintained by the advocates of an exclusively classical education. They ignore the magnificent progress which literature has made during the two thousand years that have passed since Plato taught philosophy in the academic grove, and Cicero's eloquent voice was heard in the Roman Forum. But this only en passant, for, as has been said, Johns Hopkins University has wisely adopted the elective system. Starting out as Johns Hopkins University did with a splendid endowment, it adopted at the outset all the newer methods that have been devised in modern times for the promotion of a higher education. While the ancient classics, the Semitic tongues, comparative philology, and history, have been prominent in the curriculum, the newer sciences have been cordially welcomed and encouraged. Modern languages, especially English, French and German, have held a prominent place in the studies, and every candidate for the baccalaureate must have acquired some proficiency in Latin, French and German, history and philosophy, and also have

devoted at least one year to some branch of science, including attendance in the scientific laboratory.

The cold enthusiasm which theoretical science inspires is not wanting at Johns Hopkins. The pursuit of science dominates all other studies, and this is to be regretted if it is true, as Ernest Renan declares: "Between Christianity and science, there is an ineffable conflict, and one of the two adversaries must succumb." The natural result of an exclusive devotion to abstract science is a deadly and fatal pessimism, ending in a loss of faith, hope, love, everything that makes life pleasant, earth tolerable, death a curse, and causes the unhappy man of science to exclaim, with the sated King of the Jews, Vanitas vanitatis.

Johns Hopkins University endeavors. to give a liberal education to every student who "is in training for the degree of bachelor of arts." The University can justly claim, as one of its most important achievements, that 800 of its students have become members of the academic staff of some of the leading universities, colleges and other educational institutions throughout the United States. Socrates wrote nothing, but he taught Plato and Xenophon; he left no philosophical writings, but through the minds of his famous disciples his work went forth to the world, and still lives to instruct mankind. But Johns Hopkins has done more than merely provide instructors for other institutions of learning; its professors have given to the world Studies in Historical and Political Science, Studies from the Biological Laboratory, and Memoirs from the same; it furnishes Contributions to Assyriology and Comparative Semitic Philology; it sends forth monthly Modern Language Notes; it issues a Journal of Experimental Medicine, an American Journal of Philology, besides the other journals already mentioned. So Johns Hopkins cannot be called "a silent sister' among the universities of America.

The University will begin its twentysecond academic year on the first of October, 1897, with, it is believed, over 600 students and 110 professors and associate professors. This is an excellent showing for an university that has only just attained its majority.




ELF CULTURE is the only real and noble aim of life. The magnificence, beauty, and utility of a glacier, as a perpetual reservoir of solid moisture, is not gauged by the size, arrangement, or the constitutional features of its moraines; neither is the greatness and usefulness of the philosopher measured by the amount of his knowledge of the physical fact and theory science of the times.

Of all kinds of intellectual greatness, the greatest is achieved by the philosopher who stands before the thinking world as a model of scientific virtue: deaf to flattery; insensible to paltry hostile criticism; patient of opposition; dead


the temptations of self-interest; calmly superior to the misjudgments of the short-sighted; whom nothing diverts from the endeavor to live nobly, and to whom noble means are as indispensable as noble ends; in whom the most brilliant successes foster neither vanity nor arrogance; to whom fame is unimportant, and poverty a trivial circumstance; whose joys, like fragrant breezes from


encircling landscape, come from the surrounding friendships of the general world, to whose best interests the noble heart is forever loyal.

Another subject for serious reflection is the over-accumulation of scientific information. Certainly the feeling prevails that the world cannot have too much science. But the science of learning and the science of knowledge are not quite identical. Learning has too often, in the case of individuals, overwhelmed and smothered to death knowledge. The average human mind, when overstocked with information, acts like a general put in command of an army too large for him to handle. Many a vaulting scientific ambition has been thus disgraced. Nor is this the only danger that we run; for the accumulation of facts in the treasury of the human brain has a natural tendency to breed an intellectual avarice, a passion for the piling-up of masses of facts old and new, regardless of their uses. In the great game of

* Excerpt from a Presidential Address delivered before the American Association for the Advancement of Science, by Prof. J. P. Lesley, State Geologist of Pennsylvania.

our spiritual existence, facts are mere counters with which to play the game. A million of them are worth nothing, unless the player knows how to play well the game; and when the game is over the worthless counters are swept back into the drawer. The danger moreover pursues us into higher and higher planes of science. Not only the avarice of facts, but of their explanations also, may end in a wealthy poverty of intellect for which there is no cure. Even the sacred fires of research may be allowed to burn too long, until, in fact, they turn the investigator into a mere miser of ideas.



A certain temperance in science is obligatory from another point of view. mere wealth of possessions cannot guarantee happiness, neither can a superfluity of learning insure wisdom. When the body from overfeeding grows plethoric, its vital energies subside and its life is endangered. The intellect may be mischievously crammed with science. much we know is not the best question, but how we got what we know; and what we can do with it, and above all what it has made of us. The tendency of training now is to subordinate the soul to that which should be only its endowment and adornment; to turn the thinker into a mere walking encyclopedia, textbook, or circle of the mechanic arts, not to produce the highest type of man. What ridiculous and pitiable creations are these!— an authority in physics who cannot speak the truth? a leader in natural history who is given over to the torments of envy? a god in chemical research sick of some false quotation? a youthful prodigy of mathematical science tottering with unelastic steps and outstretched arms to grasp his future fame. Yet no one will deny that the intemperate pursuit of any branch of science has a tendency to produce such characters, by elevating to undue importance the individual accumulation of scientific facts and scientific theories, to the neglect and depreciation of that spirit of truth which alone can inspire and justify an earnest study of the material universe.

We should reflect that it is as true of science as of religion that the mere letter of its code threatens its devotee with intellectual death; and that only by breathing its purest spirit can the man of

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